#i'm gonna go commit more sins not crimes

[laixe]

you ever think any of those repent ads actually work...

[pixiefelixie]

⭑.ᐟ MAKE HIM CRACK: KIM SEUNGMIN (NSFW / 18+ ONLY)

: ̗̀➛ pairing: kim seungmin x brat fem!reader and lee felix x reader : ̗̀➛ word count: ~9k

you swore seungmin never wanted you like that. you were so sure. so your boyfriend, felix makes a bet: if seungmin really doesn’t want you, then he won’t crack—no matter how hard you push. felix is sure he will. you’ve got three days to prove him wrong.

author's note: the long-awaited part two is finally here 😭 thank you so much for being patient. this is the filthiest thing i’ve ever written and i apologize…but please read part one if you haven't already. enjoy! ♡

part one: make him snap

warnings below the cut!

: ̗̀➛ warnings: harddom!seungmin, sub!reader, consented infidelity, oral sex (m. receiving), unprotected sex, hair pulling, exhibitionism, degradation (again ik) threesome themes, getting caught

you knocked once.

the door opened before your knuckles even pulled back.

and there he was.

felix stood in the doorway wearing a white silk button-up that clung to his chest like sin and shimmered faintly every time he moved. the top two buttons were undone and his hair was swept back in that effortlessly perfect way that made you want to scream into a pillow. or maybe into his pillow.

“hi,” he said, smile soft and sunshine-warm.

you smiled so fast it hurt. “hi.”

and then you kissed him.

quick, light, full of something you were trying very hard to pretend wasn’t giddy joy. his hand found your waist the way it always did—steady, reassuring, like he couldn’t help pulling you in closer. you let him.

“i missed you,” you murmured against his cheek.

“you saw me yesterday.”

“and?”

felix grinned. “i missed you too.”

he stepped aside so you could slip inside, your hand lingering in his for just a second longer than necessary. the apartment was warm and smelled faintly like bergamot and something earthy—his body wash, maybe. the air settled around you like a hug.

normally, he’d pick you up for dates. always showing up at your door, walking you to the car like he was escorting you to prom. but tonight’s dinner spot was closer to his place than yours, so it made more sense for you to come here.

but you weren’t mad about it.

there was something about walking into his space that made you feel like you belonged there. like your toothbrush could be in his cup and your hoodie could be on his chair and it wouldn’t be weird at all.

“you look beautiful, angel,” felix said, his voice soft in that way that always made you melt a little in the knees.

you leaned in, fingers smoothing over the front of his shirt, flattening a wrinkle that didn’t really need fixing.

“and you look handsome,” you let your palm linger over his chest.

felix leaned down and kissed the top of your head. “i’m gonna grab a few more things and then we’ll go, okay?”

you nodded as he padded down the hallway, disappearing into his room. you stayed by the door, fidgeting with your dress, a smile still ghosting across your lips—until you heard it.

a voice.

muffled, but sharp. coming from the living room.

you turned, stepping lightly until seungmin came into view—half-slouched against the edge of the couch, phone to his ear, brows drawn in that low, annoyed pinch he always wore when he was trying very hard not to care about something that was obviously bothering him.

“i told you i didn’t want that. from the beginning. don’t act surprised now.”

there was a pause. a sharp sigh.

then, “alright. goodbye.”

he hung up and stood still for a beat, shoulders rigid.

then he turned and nearly jumped when he saw you standing there.

you raised an eyebrow. “you good?”

“peachy,” he muttered, slipping his phone into the pocket of his hoodie as he stepped toward the entryway.

you tilted your head, watching him reach for his sneakers. “you’re going out?”

“apparently i'm emotionally unavailable and it's suddenly a crime to not want commitment,” seungmin said dryly, crouching down to tie his laces. “so i thought i’d go for a walk.”

you blinked. “that didn’t sound like a walk kind of phone call.”

“it’s either that or drink half a bottle of soju and regret spending that night with her.”

her?

“maybe if you stopped fucking around with people, you wouldn’t have to walk it off every time one of them gets feelings.” you said, leaning against the wall with a shit-eating grin. 

he stood up slowly, brushing imaginary lint from his hoodie. “is there a reason you’re always in my business?”

“is there a reason your business is always messy?”

just as he was about to reply, felix came around the corner, adjusting the watch on his wrist.

“ready to go, love?” he said, stepping beside you.

“she’s bullying me,” seungmin announced, pulling his coat on.

“sorry,” you teased.

he rolled his eyes but—there it was—that barely-there smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth. “i’ll live,” he muttered, zipping his coat halfway up. 

as you stepped into your shoes, felix held the door open for both you and seungmin, who’d shrugged into his coat and was now pulling his hood up.

felix locked the door behind the three of you. “you going far?” he said out loud to seungmin.

“just around,” seungmin said as he paused at the edge of the sidewalk and shoved his hands into his pockets. “have a good night, you two.”

felix gave him a warm nod. “bye, min.”

you lingered for a second, eyes meeting seungmin’s just as he glanced at you. you watched him for a beat, the curve of his shoulders as he turned away to walk. he didn’t look back.

felix’s fingers slipped between yours.

you turned to him, and without a word, he lifted his eyebrows slightly.

shall we?

you smiled, breath curling in the cold air. 

“we shall.”

clink.

your glasses touched with a soft chime, the candlelight bouncing off the rims and catching in felix’s eyes like glittering dusk. you took a sip of your wine—warm, smooth, just sharp enough to wake your cheeks with a pleasant burn—then set your glass down and reached across the table for his hand.

felix didn’t hesitate. his fingers curled around yours instantly, thumb brushing soft circles into your skin like he’d been waiting all night to touch you properly. you turned his hand gently, letting your lips graze over his knuckles.

you watched his hands, the careful way he moved, the way he always did everything with intention. his rings caught the candlelight again, the silver warm with reflected gold.

and maybe it was the wine.

or the fact that he hadn’t let go of your hand yet.

but your mind wandered—back to that night. that split-second where he paused, where his hands tightened on your hips and everything shifted. the tension that flared the moment seungmin slipped into the room—not physically, but in suggestion, in the space between you and felix.

you still didn’t know what kind of tension it was. good or bad. sharp with jealousy, or with something darker. felix lived in that gray space—between obsession and ownership, between fear and fascination with what you’d do next.

all you knew was that it broke him—and then made him touch you like he’d never get the chance again. the memory flickered through you like heat. the way felix had grabbed your wrists, the way his breath had gone rough and uneven, the way his voice had dropped.

your thighs pressed together under the table, and you shifted in your seat like that might help. it didn’t.

“felix,” you said quietly.

he looked up instantly.

“yes, love?” he asked, voice soft, thumb still stroking yours.

you opened your mouth, but you weren’t sure what you meant to say. his gaze stayed on you, calm and kind, but his fingers didn’t stop moving—small, deliberate circles across the back of your hand, tracing the place your pulse was skipping under your skin.

you hesitated. “does it bother you?”

his expression shifted—barely. 

“what?” he said gently, like he hadn’t heard you right. 

you glanced down at your joined hands, your voice barely above the soft clink of cutlery and the low hum of conversation around you.

“i just mean… seungmin. and i know we bicker.” you swallowed. “i just… i don’t know. i haven’t been able to stop thinking about it after that night with you.”

there. you said it.

not the full thing. not the part where his name had been on your lips at the wrong moment, or the way seungmin’s eyes lingered when they shouldn’t.

you ran your thumb along the side of his, nervously.

“i don’t know if you seemed bothered by it,” you said quietly. “or if you were just talking about seungmin in the moment. as part of the, you know… act.”

felix didn’t speak.

his thumb stilled.

and your heart sank just a little.

“but just so you know, seungmin and i spoke to each other the next morning.” you added quickly. “trust me, there is nothing you should be worried about. he told me that himself.”

felix stayed silent.

too silent.

his eyes didn’t leave yours, but he didn’t nod. didn’t speak.

all of the sudden, he let out a soft laugh under his breath.

you looked up fast. “why are you laughing?”

he leaned in a little, lips tilted in that warm smile—but his eyes were still on you like he was reading a book only he understood.

“y/n.”

“mhm?”

his eyes searched yours. then finally—

“you know i have every reason to be worried, right?”

your breath hitched, but he shook his head, just once.

“it’s okay,” he said softly. “i’m not mad.” he never is.

he let his thumb drag across your knuckles again, slow and deliberate. 

“but you have to stop pretending,” felix murmured, his voice barely above a whisper. “that seungmin doesn’t want you.”

your heart stumbled. “what?”

felix looked up at you again, this time with a softness that hurt more than it helped.

“y/n,” he said, patient but firm. “come on.”

you blinked, hard. “he doesn’t,” you said, maybe too fast. “seungmin doesn’t want people. you’ve seen him—he barely tolerates women unless they’re his mom or his sister.”

“or you.” felix added.

you stared at him, throat tight. “this is crazy.”

felix still didn’t flinch.

he just watched you.

and you hated that part of you—the smallest, traitorous part—that wasn’t sure if you were trying to convince him. or yourself.

his expression didn’t change. “is it?”

you sighed, fingers curling tighter around his. “look. i’ll admit there’s something between us. okay? a pull, maybe. i don’t know. but seungmin? he’d never admit that. not to me, not to you, not to anyone. he doesn’t do that.”

felix’s smile returned then—soft, but unreadable. “doesn’t mean it’s not there.”

“felix,” you said gently, “he actively looks like he wants to jump into traffic when i talk to him.”

his voice was quiet, but too clear. “and he also actively looks at you like he wants to fuck you.”

your eyes widened. your whole body jerked slightly, not from shock at the statement—but from how casually he’d said it.

you immediately looked around the restaurant. candlelit tables. a couple two seats over. someone’s mom having a birthday behind you. there are too many people in this room for him to talk like that. you leaned in fast. 

“he’s too blunt,” you said. “also stubborn. i could show up naked and he’d probably throw a blanket at me and tell me to get therapy.”

felix tilted his head. “wanna bet?”

the word made something stutter in your chest.

your mind pulled back—just for a second—flashing through another bet. another night. the morning after. seungmin sliding sixty bucks across the counter.

your heart skipped. “what kind of bet?”

felix sat back slightly, finally releasing your hand only to reach for his wine. he took a slow sip, then set the glass down with precision.

“you push. just a little. if he cracks, i win.”

you stared. “and if he doesn’t?”

“then you were right,” he said simply. “and i’ll never bring it up again. either way, you’ll still get what you want. you wouldn’t mind the prize of losing either.”

your brow creased. “which is…?”

felix’s thumb brushed slow over your knuckles. his gaze didn’t waver.

“to fuck him.”

your heart lurched so hard you swore the wine in your glass rippled. your mouth opened—some reflexive denial hanging on the tip of your tongue—but nothing came out.

you went silent.

felix watched you. not smug. just certain.

“i know it,” he said gently. “you won’t say it. you won’t even admit it to yourself. but it’s there. i see it, angel.”

your skin was suddenly hot. you never wanted to admit it fully—not out loud, not yet. but the second felix had said it, something inside you had twisted tight, like your body had been holding the truth longer than your mouth could.

you wanted to see seungmin lose control. just once. wanted to know how he’d sound when he cracked. wanted to know how far felix would let this go.

you already knew the answer. as far as you wanted. as far as you needed. because felix would never say no.

he leaned in closer, voice barely above the ambient hum of the restaurant.

“and you know i’ll give you anything you want,” he murmured. “like always. right?”

you swallowed.

hard.

your brows pulled together. “what do you get out of it?”

felix tilted his head, fingers brushing gently over the top of your hand.

“seeing you happy.”

he meant it. that was the problem. he always did.

“how can you be okay with this?” you asked finally. it came out smaller than you meant it to.

felix didn’t answer right away.

instead, he reached across the table and gently took both of your hands in his, his thumbs brushing over your skin like it was delicate, precious, breakable.

“angel,” he said, voice low, “look at me.”

you did.

“i trust you,” he said. “so much.”

your throat tightened.

“whatever happens,” he continued, “whatever this is, i trust you.”

his hands squeezed yours gently, like he could feel the shake in your bones even if you weren’t showing it.

god. you loved him.

it hit you all over again, crashing through your ribs like a wave—how good he was, how much he gave without ever asking for anything in return. how he held you like you were the only person in the room, even when you were confessing something that should’ve ruined everything.

“i love you,” you whispered, because there was nothing else left to say. “you can trust me.”

felix smiled, eyes softening, voice barely above a breath.

“i know,” he said. “i love you too.”

then, with a small smile, you reached for your glass. “it’s settled.”

felix followed, his fingers brushing yours as he lifted his.

a soft clink echoed between you.

that evening, after the bet was sealed, you and felix spent the rest of dinner going over the rules. his terms were thoughtful, complex—laid out like a strategy. seungmin’s bet had been simple. blunt. a single dare and a deadline.

exactly like the two of them.

felix thought in layers. seungmin struck straight at the center.

sixty bucks was on the line—same amount as last time, because felix was sentimental like that. or maybe he just liked symmetry. 

the rule was that once seungmin kisses you, it’s over.

that was the clear marker. if seungmin’s mouth touched yours with intention, felix won.

you had three days to get seungmin to crack.

three days to find out if felix was right.

the next day, you were at dance practice, watching felix from the couch like you always did when you had a free hour and he didn’t.

he loved it when you were there. said it made him move cleaner. said it made the counts feel softer. you weren’t sure about all that, but you knew his eyes flicked to you between sets.

after an hour of relentless choreography, felix finally stepped off the floor, tugging his hoodie off his head and shaking out his hair.

he slumped onto the couch beside you with a dramatic sigh and dropped his head back against the cushion, breathing hard, chest rising under the thin fabric of his shirt.

“dead,” he muttered.

you turned toward him, trying not to be affected by the way his hair clung to his forehead, the way his collar was stretched slightly, the way his entire existence was just too much up close.

“you look it,” you said, but your voice was softer than you meant it to be.

felix cracked one eye open. “compliment me better.”

“you look hot,” you replied, immediate. then, with a smile: “literally.”

he smiled. “that’ll do.”

you reached for his hand, and he let you take it, fingers still warm and damp from practice. he looked ruined in the best way—sweaty, flushed, glowing under the dim studio lights.

felix laced his fingers with yours, still breathless but smiling, his eyes glittering beneath the studio lights.

“you ready?” he asked, voice low.

your gaze flicked—just for a second—toward the door.

that had been the plan. after his practice, you’d head down the hall. seungmin’s favourite studio was three doors over.

he squeezed your hand. “you still wanna do this?”

you looked at him. 

at the flush in his cheeks. the sweat on his temple. the way he was holding you like you weren’t about to walk away from him for another guy—for a bet. and still, he smiled like he wasn’t scared.

you nodded. “yeah.”

felix grinned, eyes crinkling as he leaned in and pressed a slow, sweet kiss to your mouth. his thumb brushed against your jaw like he was memorizing it.

“for luck,” he murmured, lips still against yours.

you kissed him one last time—gentle, lingering—and then stood up.

your heart was already racing as you opened the door. you slipped out into the hallway, trying not to let your nerves catch up with you.

the quiet between studios was broken only by the occasional echo of music behind thick doors and the soft hum of air conditioning overhead. you walked slowly—past mirrored practice rooms, dim rehearsal spaces—until you found it.

the recording studio.

the light above the door was red. he was in there.

you hesitated for half a second, then raised your hand and knocked. just twice. soft.

the light flicked off. a shuffle of movement. then the door cracked open, and there he was.

hoodie sleeves shoved up, hair a little messy, earbuds still dangling around his neck. he looked flushed in that way he always did when he was mid-verse—sharp focus still clinging to his features.

the second he saw you, his entire body stilled.

“oh no,” he said teasingly, as he lifted his head up.

you smiled. cheeky. 

“hi, seungmin.”

he stared at you like you were a walking hazard.

“what do you want?”

you slipped past him without answering, stepping into the small recording space like you owned it. warm lights. mic still set up. monitor screen still active. his voice was probably still ringing in the headphones he’d dropped on the chair.

“felix is too busy right now,” you said, casually wandering over to the console. you didn’t look at him when you said it—just ran your fingers lightly along the edge of the soundboard. “so i thought i’d come by.”

seungmin raised an eyebrow, still standing near the door like he hadn’t decided if he was letting this happen.

“does he know you’re here?” he asked.

you glanced over your shoulder. “does it matter?”

that earned a reaction. he let out a quiet breath—something between a laugh and a scoff—and looked away, smiling to himself like he couldn’t help it.

“i can leave,” you said, feigning politeness. “if you’re busy too.”

you already knew what the answer would be. he’d never tell you to leave. not when he didn’t know what you were doing. not when he wanted to know.

“you’re fine here,” he said after a beat, tone unreadable.

you nodded once and walked toward the small couch in the corner, dropping into it and tucking your legs up underneath you.

seungmin had settled in by the console again, clicking through takes with practiced indifference. his eyes flicked to the screen, then to the levels, then—briefly—to you.

your voice was calm when you asked, “what are you working on?”

seungmin didn’t look up from the monitor. “something you wouldn’t understand.”

the words were clipped, automatic, like muscle memory.

he waited for it—the jab, the comeback. the usual volley you always threw back with precision. his lips even curled slightly, like he was preparing for your argument.

but you didn’t bite.

you just hummed, light and easy. “still sounds good from here.”

he paused.

only for a second—but you saw it. the faint flicker of confusion that passed over his face like a shadow. his hands stilled over the keyboard. then he exhaled through his nose, trying to brush it off.

“it’s a demo,” he said, eyes fixed on the monitor again. “one of my solo things. chan and i are piecing it together soon.”

you leaned your cheek into your palm, voice still soft. “that’s cool. i didn’t know you wrote on your own.”

“don’t get too impressed,” he muttered with a tune at the end.

you smiled. “wanna play it for me?”

he stared at you for a beat longer, then clicked something on the keyboard. the track played—soft at first, then heavier. clean vocals layered over a slow beat.

you listened. 

when the first verse faded out, he clicked the spacebar and glanced at you again.

“i like it,” you said with a sweet smile. “you’re good at what you do.”

“great,” he sighed, lips twitching. “now i need to rewrite the whole thing.”

you laughed.

seungmin narrowed his eyes slightly, gaze flicking over your face like he was dissecting something. calculating. then—

“you hit your head on the way here or something?”

you blinked at him, all faux innocence. “why?”

seungmin narrowed his eyes. “because you’re being… nice.”

you tilted your head. “i’m always nice.”

“no, you’re not,” he said flatly, like it was fact. “you’re annoying and opinionated and loud.”

you tilted your head, pretending you don’t know what he’s talking about. 

“and you’re giving me those eyes,” he said flatly.

you blinked. “what eyes?”

he turned in his chair to face you more fully, elbow propped against the armrest, expression cool—almost amused.

“the ones you give felix,” he said.

your lips parted slightly. 

you blinked once. then, carefully: “i look at felix a lot of ways.”

seungmin let out a soft scoff. “you know what i’m talking about.”

for a second, it was impossible to tell what he was thinking. his expression was unreadable, but his eyes stayed fixed on you. slow. intent.

“you must want something pretty bad to come here like this.” he murmured.

you hadn’t even noticed it—when he rolled closer, when the space between you shrank like it’d always meant to. but now he was there. close. you could still pretend. there was still distance. technically.

but the placement was deliberate. he was leaned back in his chair like he wasn’t doing anything at all—but his legs were spread just enough to keep you boxed in, and his gaze hadn’t flickered away once.

you glanced at the door. just for a second. just long enough to remember why you were here. seungmin’s gaze tracked yours before turning to look at you again.

then, gently, he nudged your knee with his. it was barely a touch. just pressure. but it sent a shiver straight up your spine. because seungmin didn’t touch you. not ever. not even in passing. for obvious reasons. and now he had.

his voice was quiet. low. “what is it that you want?”

you met his gaze. let the silence stretch for one breath. two.

then you leaned forward.

just a little.

just enough to close the gap that he’d left open on purpose. your fingers found the edge of his sleeve—brushed lightly against the skin of his forearm, right where it met the crook of his elbow. barely there. a whisper of a touch.

but it was enough to make him still.

“i thought it would help,” you said. “making felix snap. hearing him say those words. letting him… do those things.”

your eyes flicked up to meet his. steady. careful.

“maybe it wasn’t him i needed to hear it from.” you whispered. 

seungmin smiled. a little too calm.

he reached out and took your wrist. 

“you’re sick,” he said, voice like silk wrapped around a knife.

and then, still watching you, he slid your hand off his arm and set it down on your lap like it didn’t belong to him. like he was returning borrowed property.

“don’t do that,” you said, voice steady. “don’t act like this is nothing.”

seungmin didn’t flinch.

“you and i…” you started again, slower, willing him to look at you, to hear it the way you meant it. “there’s something here.”

he just nodded. once. small.

“i know,” he said simply.

you froze.

that wasn’t the answer you were ready for. not that easy. not that fast.

you opened your mouth—but nothing came out. because what the hell were you supposed to say to that? seungmin looked at you like he’d already made peace with it. like knowing was the problem.

and then he turned away.

“i think you should leave, y/n.”

the words landed like cold water.

your chest pulled tight. “what?”

his back was to you now, already returning to the console, like the entire conversation had just been a brief distraction between takes.

“i have a bridge to finish,” he said. 

you exhaled slowly. a soft, frustrated sound that barely made it to him.

then you stood. your feet felt heavy. you couldn’t do it. not this time.

you reached the door, hand on the knob—and paused.

“i’ll see you tomorrow, seungmin.”

he didn’t answer. even after the door shut.

the next day came slower than it should have.

not because time dragged—but because your thoughts did. through every class, every errand, every moment you found yourself alone. they looped like static.

maybe he really won’t crack.

it wouldn’t be the worst thing.

you were the one who bet against the possibility. you’d get your sixty bucks for the second time, felix would wrap his arms around you and say something like, “guess i was wrong, huh?”—and he’d mean it softly, not bitterly. you’d curl into him and pretend this whole thing didn’t matter. like it wasn’t keeping you up at night.

it wouldn’t hurt. not really..

but if it had just been about winning, you wouldn’t be thinking about the way he looked at you yesterday when you were speaking to him. you wouldn’t be remembering the way he’d leaned forward—like if he moved any closer, he might forget himself.

your phone buzzed beside you. tonight’s plan was rolling.

felix: seungmin told me he’s on his way home. you’ve got him alone for at least an hour. you got this angel.

not even five minutes later, you heard the sound of the door unlocking. the quiet creak of hinges. the soft thud of shoes meeting the floor.

your heart jumped. immediate.

you straightened on the couch, as you heard the unmistakable shuffle of seungmin’s footsteps.

then—

“y/n?”

his voice.

you turned, slow, casual. like you hadn’t been listening for it all night.

“hi,” you said, voice light. innocent.

he blinked at you from the hallway entrance. hair a little messy like he’d run his hands through it too many times. 

“you’re here,” he said flatly.

you nodded, tucking your legs a little closer into the couch. “felix said i could stay until he got back. hope that’s okay.”

“yeah,” seungmin muttered, voice low as he stepped further into the room. “it’s fine.”

he didn’t look at you. just dropped his bag near the door, kicked off his shoes, and made his way to the couch. he collapsed beside you. dropped down like gravity had yanked him too hard, head thrown back against the cushion, long legs spread carelessly in front of him.

you stayed quiet for a second as your eyes trailed his body. from the visible bulge outlined by his grey sweatpants to the thin layer of sweat on his neck. you watched the way his chest rose and fell. the way his jaw clenched. the faint crease between his brows that hadn’t eased since he walked in.

“…are you okay?” you asked.

he didn’t answer right away. just reached up and dragged a hand over his face, fingers pressing into his eyes like he could scrub out the entire day.

“no.”

you blinked. that was rare. seungmin didn’t do no. 

he didn’t do honest.

you shifted toward him slightly. “do you wanna talk about it?”

“no.”

okay, so not that honest.

you waited. let the silence stretch, let the question hang in the space like a hook. you knew he’d bite eventually.

and sure enough, a few seconds later:

“am i manipulative?” he asked, bluntly. 

you hesitated. “i… don’t think so?”

he didn’t look convinced.

“i showed up to fuck, and she started talking about feelings again. i said i didn’t want that, and she said i’d led her on.” he said. 

you stilled. the girl. the one from the phone call. the one you’d overheard him arguing with the other night.

“i said i didn’t want that from the start,” he said, sharp now. “she asked me to come over. i didn’t chase her. i never promised anything.”

his fingers flexed against his thighs, knuckles pale from tension. he was still staring at you—jaw set, eyes sharp—but something in the way his hands twitched told you he was barely holding himself together.

and maybe it was awful, maybe it made you just a little bit cruel, but—god—he looked good like this.

you’d always known seungmin was attractive in that quietly devastating kind of way. not the type to flaunt it. not the type to notice it. but it hit harder when he was like this—on edge, breathing hard, frustration leaking out of him in little cracks that let you see what he usually kept hidden.

he was always so composed. always in control.

but now?

now he looked like he wanted to break something. or someone.

and your stomach flipped at the thought that maybe—just maybe—you wouldn’t mind being the thing he lost it on.

“you were clear. that’s not manipulative. that’s just… knowing what you want.”

he scoffed, dry and bitter. “yeah, well, apparently that makes me an asshole.”

“only to people who think they can change your mind.”

his jaw twitched. 

“i think,” you said carefully, eyes trained on the tension in his fingers, “you need someone who respects that you don’t want any strings attached.”

once he heard your words, his hands finally unclenched. then—he moved. he turned to face you fully, his upper body propped up on his arm that is behind your head.

he’s going to crack tonight.

you knew it with the kind of certainty that hit low in your stomach. he was too wound up from whatever that argument was. he hadn’t even gotten the sex he wanted, and now all that leftover tension was sitting under his skin, burning holes through his composure.

and you were right here. in front of him. saying the exact things he didn’t know he wanted to hear.

his eyes flicked down your face, landing on your mouth for just a second too long. when he looked back up, something in him had shifted. still calm—but only on the surface. below that, he was simmering. mad. worked up. and probably half-hard just from frustration alone.

“you’re good at pretending you can handle things,” he said. “but i don’t think you really know what you’re doing.”

“then show me.”

his jaw flexed, like he was trying to bite down the part of him that wanted to respond. but he didn’t pull away. didn’t call your bluff.

you reached out—slow, deliberate—and placed your hand on his chest, right over the thin fabric of his shirt. he sucked in a breath so sharp you felt it beneath your palm. his eyes fluttered shut for a moment, jaw clenched like he was trying not to let it show how much that one touch rattled him.

but it did.

you were doing something to him.

he opened his eyes again, darker now, pupils blown. his hand lifted and curled around the back of your neck, fingers warm and steady, grounding you—but also pulling you in. his gaze dropped to your lips.

then back up.

he was going to kiss you.

he leaned in—closer, closer—until your noses brushed, until you could feel the heat of his mouth hovering a breath away from yours. your lips parted. your pulse screamed.

he stopped.

“we can’t,” he muttered, low and strained.

you blinked, confusion punching through your haze. “what?”

“we can’t,” he said again, eyes locked on yours like he needed you to believe him. like he didn’t believe himself. “you’ll regret it.”

frustration surged in your chest. you could see it—he wanted this. he wanted you. he just couldn’t let himself fall first.

so you moved.

you climbed into his lap, one knee on either side of his thighs, straddling him with quiet defiance. his breath hitched immediately, hands flying to your hips like instinct.

“then stop me,” you whispered, cupping his face gently. “tell me you don’t want this.”

his eyes darted across your face, his jaw tightening again like it hurt to stay still.

“you can’t,” you added, voice barely above a breath. “because you do.”

his hands tightened just slightly on your hips, enough to make you feel the restraint buzzing beneath his skin. his gaze didn’t leave yours, but the heat in it dulled, shaded by something heavier. guilt. conflict.

“i’m not doing that to felix,” he said finally, voice low and tight. 

the words hit harder than you expected. not because he was rejecting you—but because you knew he meant it. because even like this—left frustrated, horny, with your body pressed against his—he still respected his best friend too much to cross the line.

if only he knew this was a bet made by said best friend. 

your fingers slipped from his face, settling against the base of his throat instead, your thumbs resting gently there as you searched his expression.

“what if…” you started carefully, “what if it wasn’t felix?”

his brows lifted just barely. “then you wouldn’t have to try so hard.”

you blinked.

you stared at him for a long beat. at the lips you wanted. the eyes you couldn’t read. the softness in his hands, even as he held you still. his heart was thudding beneath your palm, loud and uneven. just like yours.

“i won’t tell him,” seungmin said quietly. “this stays between us.”

“you won’t?”

he shook his head, gaze steady. “no.”

then, softer—warning:

“but if you do this again…” his hands slid just barely along your sides, almost like he couldn’t stop himself. “if you get this close again, i won’t be able to hold back.”

you were fine with that.

you had one night left.

one night before the bet ended. before sixty bucks went into your hands. before you were supposed to laugh it all off and say well, that was fun after having failed to seduce kim seungmin.

you didn’t care about the bet anymore.

you hadn’t for a while.

you wanted seungmin to crack.

tonight was your last shot.

this time, you went straight to the dorm.

you knocked once.

it was late. the kind of late where the hallway felt too quiet and your pulse was too loud in your ears. you didn’t tell felix. didn’t plan anything. just showed up.

the door creaked open.

and there he was. hair wet, still towel-draped across his shoulders. a muted blue t-shirt clinging a little at the collar, grey sweats riding low. 

seungmin’s eyes swept over you once. then again, slower. then he leaned against the frame like he was already tired of whatever this was.

“felix isn’t here,” he said flatly.

you didn’t answer right away.

he knew what this was.

“but he will be,” seungmin said eventually, voice quieter now, like he was warning you. or warning himself. “you should come back later,” 

his voice didn’t match the words. it was too soft. like a door half-closed, not locked. his eyes didn’t leave you. didn’t flick to the clock or the hallway. they just stayed on yours—dark, unreadable, and a little too steady for someone who wanted you gone.

you didn’t move.

then, without looking away, he stepped back.

you stepped in.

the air shifted the second you crossed the threshold, as if the room itself braced for impact. you heard the soft thud of the door clicking shut behind you, and you stood there—just for a moment—so close to him now it made your skin buzz.

“y/n.”

his voice was low. too low. careful in a way that made your stomach tighten.

“yeah?”

seungmin didn’t answer right away.

“does felix know you’re here?”

the same question as last time.

and before you could even open your mouth to throw up a dodge, he added—

“don’t give me that indirect shit again.”

you froze.

his eyes were on you, dark and direct, gaze locked like he’d been building to this. there was something in it that looked almost like fear—coiled under the frustration, under the sharp jaw and the tense shoulders. he looked so hot like that—torn between doing the right thing and wanting to be selfish.

you exhaled, voice small. “no.”

seungmin didn’t move. his jaw clenched.

then he nodded, slow and sharp, like he’d known the answer already and just needed you to confirm it. 

“right,” he muttered.

and then he reached for his phone.

you reacted instantly.

your hand shot out, grabbing his wrist before he could unlock the screen.

“wait.”

seungmin stilled. his thumb hovered over the button. his gaze didn’t lift. “i’m gonna call him.”

“no,” you said, fast, breath catching. “don’t.”

your fingers curled around his wrist, tight.

“i love felix,” you said suddenly.

seungmin blinked, something in his face tightening like he hadn’t expected that. like he didn’t know what you were about to do with it.

you didn’t either.

“i do,” you repeated, slower this time, like you were trying to convince yourself. “he’s good to me. sweet. kind.”

seungmin stayed quiet, but his jaw set, and you could tell he was waiting. bracing.

“but you,” you said. “i hate the way you look at me. i hate the way you talk to me like i’m a child who doesn’t know what she wants.” you took a step closer, your voice low now. “but maybe you were right.”

seungmin didn’t flinch.

“maybe i am sick,” you said. “because felix is soft and patient and perfect—and you’re not. and that’s why i’m here again.”

you were close now. 

“maybe i don’t want sweet right now,” you whispered. “maybe i need someone who can ruin me a little.”

his breath hitched.

“why do you think i enjoyed it so much,” you murmured, eyes locked on his, “when felix was mean to me that night?”

seungmin’s gaze sharpened like a blade drawn too fast.

“you think that’s something to be proud of?” seungmin said, voice low, biting.

then he stepped toward you.

once.

twice.

and you stepped back on instinct until your spine hit the wall with a soft thud. the air thinned immediately, like it couldn’t squeeze between your bodies anymore.

his eyes were burning into you now. sharp. angry. too full for someone pretending not to care.

“you’re pathetic,” he muttered. “you show up here, say you love him, say you hate me, and now you want what—pity? attention? to get fucked by the guy you can’t stop pushing?”

you didn’t flinch. just tilted your chin up, gaze steady. 

you smiled. it was the kind of smile that came from knowing exactly which wire you’d just cut, and hearing the bomb tick faster.

because seungmin had cracked.

the second his composure slipped—when the line in his jaw tightened, when his voice dropped into something raw and reckless—you knew.

you’d broken him.

and now he was right in front of you.

towering.

his chest rose and fell fast. his shoulders were tense, caging you in like he didn’t trust himself to move. his eyes were unreadable now. burned out from trying not to feel and failing anyway.

“you’re so mad at me,” you said, voice quiet but taunting. “you look at me like you hate me, but you keep getting closer and closer to me. isn’t that a little…”

you smiled, just enough to sting.

“manipulative?”

that broke something.

seungmin surged forward, his mouth crashing into yours without warning. the kiss was messy, hard, teeth clashing—and you gasped into it, breath catching in your throat as his hand tangled in your hair and pulled, just enough to make you feel it.

you’d done it.

even if you lost the sixty bucks—this was what you wanted.

him, like this.

you pulled back just enough to catch your breath, lips swollen, eyes wild, and seungmin’s hand still fisted in your hair like he wasn’t ready to let go.

felix got you what you wanted. god, you loved felix. 

but seungmin was here. right now. and you were past pretending that didn’t matter.

his mouth was still hovering near yours, breath ragged. you were still panting, your chest brushing his with every breath, drunk off the taste of him—head spinning from how hard he’d kissed you, how deep the pull in his voice had gotten.

and then, because you never learned, you pushed again.

“you suck at commitment,” you whispered, just loud enough for the words to crack between your bodies.

his eyes lifted. sharpened.

“so of course the thing that gets you off is fucking your best friend’s girl.” you murmured, that bratty smile creeping back, slow and venomous. 

his jaw flexed, and his grip in your hair tightened, but firm like he was warning you not to push further.

you pushed anyway.

“you’re just waiting for him to fuck up so you can sweep in and take whatever’s left of me, aren’t you?” you tilted your head, voice like silk-wrapped poison. “or maybe you just like being the one thing i’d never admit to wanting. the one i should stay the hell away from.”

“shut the hell up.”

you barely had time to blink before the hand in your hair yanked, sharp enough to drag a breathless gasp out of you, neck craning with the force of it. his other hand gripped your waist, fingers digging into the curve of your hip as he pressed in closer, until there wasn’t a single inch between you. 

“you think i’m here because i want to be some dirty secret?” his voice was a low, guttural rasp, so close to your ear you felt it more than heard it. “you think i give a fuck about winning you over? i’m here because you won’t fucking stop.”

he twisted your hair tighter. you whimpered.

“you come to my door, night after night, eyes all big, talking about how much you ‘love’ felix while you practically beg me to wreck you. you play innocent until i call you out, and then you play victim when i do.” his breath was hot against your neck now, mouth brushing the skin there, just barely. “you want to be used. you want to be put in your place.”

your fingers curled into the front of his shirt, stubborn even now, even as your pulse skittered like a cornered thing under your skin. you knew the look in his eyes. knew what came next. but you still couldn’t resist the bite.

“you think i’m begging for you?” you breathed, voice laced with mockery, the kind of tone that always made his temper spark. “you’re the one holding me like you’re about to come in your pants.”

he didn’t say a word.

just slid one hand down your thigh, slow and deliberate, then bent his knee and shoved it up between your legs.

your breath punched out in a shocked whimper as his thigh pressed firm against your core, forcing your hips to roll against it. you bucked without meaning to try to chase the pressure.

“mmhm,” seungmin murmured, his voice dark and low, head tilted so his mouth brushed your temple. “that shut you up.”

you made a small, desperate sound, your forehead falling forward, burying in the crook of his neck as your fingers fisted tighter in his shirt. 

“you’re so loud until i do something about it,” he said, voice vibrating against your skin, his arms tightening around you. “that bratty little mouth just runs and runs—but look at you now.”

he shifted his leg just enough to drag it against you again. the friction sent another whine crawling out of your throat—high and pathetic—and your hips jerked, grinding down on instinct.

he exhaled a laugh, mean and quiet.

“that’s what i thought.”

you tried to lift your head, tried to snarl something back—anything—but he beat you to it, dragging his lips down the side of your face in a taunting, too-soft kiss.

“don’t start,” he warned, just above a whisper. 

then his hands were back on your waist, strong and certain, and before you could even protest he hoisted you up—effortless—like you weighed nothing at all. you gasped, arms looping around his neck, legs instinctively locking around his waist as he walked you across the room.

he dumped you onto the couch and the cushions barely bounced before he was on you again.

seungmin climbed over you, arms bracketing your shoulders as his mouth descended. his lips crashed into yours, breath hot and wild, tongue slick as it parted your mouth and stole the air from your lungs.

you moaned into it as his hand found your jaw, thumb swiping your cheekbone as he tilted your head just the way he wanted. 

and then you were moving.

your fingers fumbled at the hem of your shirt—thin, soft cotton stretched from how tightly it clung to you. you broke the kiss for only a second, just long enough to yank the thing over your head. you dropped the shirt somewhere and lay back in just your bra, chest rising fast, skin flushed and exposed.

seungmin’s eyes dropped immediately. his breath caught. his hand followed, dragging from your throat down between the swell of your breasts, pausing over the center of your bra. his thumb brushed the fabric, then pressed—slow, heavy—watching the way you squirmed beneath him, lips parted and eyes half-lidded.

“you know how long i’ve wanted to see you like this?” he muttered, voice dark with hunger, words rumbling low in his chest as he leaned in and kissed just above your heart, then down, slower, pressing his mouth to the tops of your breasts like he wanted to memorize the way they rose under him. “fucking teasing me for days—saying things like that. all those stupid little games.”

his fingers found the clasp of your bra like he’d done it a hundred times in his head—deft, practiced, no fumbling. just a subtle flick and it came undone, the straps slipping from your shoulders like silk unraveling.

seungmin exhaled like the sight of you finally, completely naked from the waist up had knocked the breath clean out of him. his hands moved to cup your breasts, thumbs brushing over your nipples. and then he leaned in again, mouth hot and open as he kissed between them, then circled your left nipple with his tongue, teasing and wet, before he wrapped his lips around it and sucked.

a sharp gasp cracked out of you, and your fingers twisting in the waistband of his sweatpants, tugging.

he pulled off your breast with a soft pop, breath damp against your skin. “why so impatient?” he murmured, almost amused.

“i want your cock,” you said, no shame, voice breathy and sharp, like it hurt to wait anymore.

his lips quirked into something wicked. “yeah?”

you nodded, hard, grinding your hips up into him as your hand finally slipped under the waistband of his sweats. he hissed the second your fingers brushed him, already thick, already hot and twitching against his stomach through his boxers. but before you could go further, he grabbed the hem of his shirt behind his neck and pulled—one smooth motion, the fabric dragging up and over his body.

your mouth went dry.

toned, tight muscle rippled under taut skin, the faint sheen of sweat catching in the low light, highlighting his collarbones, the sculpt of his chest, the sharp cut of his abs. 

you surged up before he could say another word, catching his mouth in another kiss. your hand curled into the back of his neck, pulling him down as you rose onto your knees, chest to chest, skin flushed and searing. the contact made you whimper—fuck, you could feel how hard he was against you, thick and pulsing through the last thin layer of fabric between you.

seungmin kissed you back just as fiercely, one hand tangling in your hair, the other gripping your waist like he needed to anchor himself or risk unraveling completely. but then you felt his hand shift—lower—and a second later, you heard the soft rustle of elastic being dragged down.

your breath hitched.

you broke the kiss and looked down, watching as he palmed himself once through his boxers, then pushed them down and freed his cock.

long. hard. already leaking at the tip.

your lips parted in a soft, unintentional moan. but you didn’t wait.

you kicked your shorts the rest of the way off, now in just your panties, the wet cotton clinging to the slick heat between your thighs. then you pushed at his chest with both hands and he let you, letting his body fall back against the couch, legs spread wide, arms resting on the back like he was trying to pretend he wasn’t completely at your mercy.

you slid down between his legs.

he blinked. “what are you—”

you didn’t answer.

just wrapped your fingers around the base of his cock, firm and slow, watching his reaction like it was the only thing that mattered. his breath stuttered the second you touched him—his hips jerked slightly, thighs tightening—and then you leaned in and licked a stripe up the underside, from the base to the leaking tip, slow and wet and intentional.

his whole body flinched.

“shit—”

you smirked against him.

and then took him into your mouth.

the groan he let out was sharp and low, a barely-muted “fffuck,” as your lips wrapped around the head and your tongue swirled, tasting the salt and heat of him. his hand flew to your hair immediately, not pushing, not guiding—just holding, fingers flexing tight like he couldn’t believe you were really doing this.

you bobbed your head lower, taking more of him in, your jaw stretching around the length, spit slicking your lips as you hollowed your cheeks and moved slow, teasing. he was big—thick, veiny, and already twitching—and every time you slid down farther, his head tipped back just a little more, breath coming harder through clenched teeth.

his fingers tightened in your hair—and then he moved. just slightly at first, a nudge, then a firmer grip as he began to guide the motion of your head, not gently anymore. his other hand came up, threading in from the opposite side, both fists tangled in your hair now like reins. he didn’t ask. he just took control.

“that’s it,” seungmin muttered, voice gone thick and gravelled with lust. “look at you.”

you moaned around him, mouth stuffed full, throat tightening as he eased you lower, deeper, until your nose brushed the skin of his abdomen. your hands clutched at his thighs for balance, fingernails digging into hard muscle as your body worked to adjust to the pressure, the stretch, the overwhelming heat of him.

“sick little slut,” he said, dragging you off slow just to watch the string of spit stretch from your lips to his tip. “you love this. love how wrong it is. god, it’s fucking wrong—and you’re making me love it too.” 

he slapped his cock against your tongue, twice, the sound slick and sharp. and then he shoved you back down.

his breath started to hitch—just barely at first, the rhythm of his hips losing their even tempo, those slow, punishing thrusts breaking into shallower, hungrier jolts. you felt him twitch against your tongue. heard the roughness crack into his voice when he breathed out, “shit… fuck…”

your gaze lifted, watery eyes blinking up at him from beneath your lashes.

“keep looking at me,” he growled. “fuck—don’t you dare look away.”

you didn’t. you couldn’t.

not when he looked like that—hair messy, chest heaving, sweat beading at his brow, so close to breaking. he was so fucking hot when he lost control. even hotter trying not to.

“your throat’s so perfect,” he moaned, low and wrecked, a sharp breath hitching through his chest. “i’m gonna come—fuck, i’m gonna fucking come—”

you moaned around him, squeezing your thighs together, letting him hold you down on his cock as the tension in his body snapped taut.

“take it. all of it,” he panted, staring you down, voice ragged.

his hips bucked once, twice—deep—and then he groaned, a sharp, guttural sound that punched out of him as he came. the heat of it flooded your mouth in thick, pulsing waves, and his grip stayed firm, keeping you down, watching as you took every drop just like he told you to.

he looked divine like that—head tipped back slightly, mouth open, moaning low as he spilled into you, owning you completely.

and even when his grip loosened, even when he finally let you breathe, he didn’t stop looking at you. watching. daring you to spit it out.

you didn’t.

you swallowed. every drop.

you pulled off slow, lips dragging over the sensitive head, tongue giving one last lazy swirl as he twitched again, shivering with the aftershocks. your mouth parted, a slick strand of spit and fluid stretching between your lips and the tip of his cock.

seungmin’s breath hitched.

his hands slid from your hair, but only to cup your jaw, tilting your face up so he could see the mess he’d made. his eyes dropped to your mouth, then back to the string still connecting you, lips swollen, chin wet, throat flushed.

“holy fuck,” he whispered, almost to himself. “you’re unreal.”

he groaned again—softer this time, a sound dragged from deep in his chest—and leaned forward, hand still at your face, thumb brushing the corner of your mouth. you smiled and he kissed you hard, tasting himself on your tongue.

his mouth was still on yours, when his hand drifted lower—tracing the curve of your jaw, down your neck, over your chest, sliding across sweat-slick skin until it gripped your hip again with a kind of lazy command that made your stomach flip.

then lower.

his fingers found the waistband of your panties, still clinging to you, soaked through from everything he hadn’t even touched yet. he hooked them slow, curling his fingers into the fabric at both hips, and when he pulled, it wasn’t gentle.

they peeled down your thighs until you kicked them off completely, bare now—finally, fully—for him.

seungmin’s eyes raked down your body, slow and consuming, breath still coming hot from the kiss, lips slick from where they’d just tasted everything you gave him. his hands braced on your thighs, spreading them wider as he knelt between them, eyes locking on the soaked, glistening heat between your legs like he hadn’t just come down your throat.

“fuck,” he muttered, almost breathless, one hand dragging down his own stomach as he stared. “look at you.”

you were laid bare—flushed, panting, legs open and trembling slightly from the weight of everything that had already happened. but none of it compared to the way he looked now—his cock thick and hard again, already red at the tip. he gripped the base with one hand, slowly stroking, lazy and threatening, letting it drag against your folds—just enough to make you gasp, hips twitching toward him.

“you want this?” he murmured, low and sharp.

you nodded, fast. “please.”

he raised a brow. “please what?”

“please fuck me,” you said, voice shaky.

that crooked smile returned, pure smug satisfaction curling his mouth as he pressed the head of his cock just barely inside, enough to make your breath catch and your thighs clamp tighter around his hips.

“you’re dripping,” he muttered, leaning over you again, one hand catching the back of your knee and pushing it higher so he could slot himself closer, deeper. “haven’t even put it in yet and you’re this messy for me? where’d all that attitude go, huh?”

you gasped as he pushed in just an inch and then stopped, holding there, watching your face twist, your fingers clawing at his back.

“thought you were a brat,” he teased, biting down gently on your earlobe. “now you’re just some ruined little thing that can’t even pretend not to want it.”

“please,” you whimpered again, thighs trembling. “please—seungmin—just—”

then, a sound hit like a gunshot through the haze.

click. the distinct metallic thud of the front door unlocking.

seungmin froze.

his cock was still buried barely an inch inside you, his body caging yours, breath hot against your throat—but now he wasn’t moving. his fingers clenched reflexively around your thigh, and his head whipped toward the sound—eyes wide, jaw tight, every inch of him tensed like a predator caught mid-kill.

“fuck,” he whispered, sharp and guttural.

and then felix stepped into the room.

he stopped dead.

you tilted your head, still panting, still flushed, and looked straight at felix with a sweet, soft smile—like he’d just come home early from work and not walked in on you mid-fuck with his best friend.

“hi,” you breathed, syrupy, warm.

felix stared.

not at you.

at seungmin.

his gaze was unreadable for a second—stone still, lips parted just enough to show how hard he was breathing. his eyes dropped, scanned the scene: your bare thighs wrapped around seungmin’s waist, the blanket crooked and useless, the telltale sheen of sweat across your chest and collarbones. and then up—past the terror in seungmin’s jaw, past the panic in his shoulders—to the guilt smoldering behind his eyes.

“i knew you liked her,” felix said finally, voice low. too calm. “didn’t think you’d actually end up fucking her.”

seungmin’s mouth opened—but nothing came out.

felix took a slow step forward, arms relaxed at his sides, expression unreadable. his voice didn’t change, but his eyes… those burned. you sucked in a breath, but felix didn’t look at you. not yet. his eyes were locked on seungmin like a predator closing in.

“i didn’t think you’d ever give in,” he murmured, tone going cold. 

seungmin started, low and hoarse, like he couldn’t stand the fact that felix was seeing this. “i didn’t mean for—”

“didn’t mean for what?” felix cut in, still moving, slow and casual, until he stood right at the edge of the couch. “didn’t mean to let her suck you like a fucking plaything?”

seungmin’s fists clenched in the blanket.

“you were supposed to resist, man,” he said, eyes narrowing as he took another step closer. “that was the whole point. she comes to you, she tests you, you turn her away—and then we laugh about it later. that was the game. right?”

seungmin’s eyes finally dropped to your face.

and something in them changed.

because he saw it.

the tilt of your head, the shine in your eyes—not guilt, but delight. your lips parted just so, chest rising soft and slow beneath the half-thrown blanket, fingers tangled in seungmin’s hair like you were comfortable. like you’d planned to be here.

he blinked once. slowly.

and then again, faster—realization crashing over him like cold water doused on a flame that had never stopped burning.

“you…” his voice broke off, low and rough. “you set me up.”

you looked up at him through your lashes—wide, sweet, the perfect picture of breathless innocence twisted by the filth still dripping between your thighs. and then you turned your head to felix, eyes glinting, lips curling into something soft and fake and begging.

“felix…” you whined, the kind of pretty pout that always got you whatever you wanted. “he’s so big…”

felix exhaled—his hand dragging up the side of his neck like he was trying not to smile.

you squirmed under seungmin, hips rolling just enough to feel the stretch of him again, and seungmin’s breath stuttered. your eyes fluttered closed as you sighed, like your own body was confirming the betrayal.

“feels so good already.” you whispered, and then looked back at felix. seungmin’s fingers dug into your thigh. hard. “i know you’ll let me,” you breathed. “please… don’t stop him.”

that did it.

seungmin swore under his breath, low and feral, staring down at you like he didn’t know whether to fuck you harder or get the hell out of his own skin. but his hips moved.

slightly. just once.

felix sat down in the armchair across from you both, legs spread, eyes dark and burning with something closer to pride than rage.

“go on then,” he said, voice low and satisfied. 

seungmin’s eyes never left felix, rage flaring behind them so fierce it looked ready to combust.

“you fucking knew,” he growled, voice a snarl through clenched teeth. “you knew she’d do this. you let her.”

felix didn’t flinch. just sat back, calm, the barest hint of a smile curling at the corner of his mouth. “i wanted her to.”

that was it.

seungmin’s control snapped like a wire pulled too tight—and he slammed into you, hard, burying himself to the hilt with a brutal snap of his hips that drove a loud, shocked moan from your throat.  “this what you wanted to see?”

his grip locked on your thighs, hauling your hips up as he fucked into you again, and again—deep, fast, punishing. the couch jolted beneath you with each thrust, your hands scrabbling against his arms, his shoulders, nails sinking into sweat-slick skin as your back arched and your mouth fell open.

felix’s gaze slid from seungmin’s face to yours. his smile widened.

“she’s so loud when she’s getting what she needs, isn’t she?”

he slammed into you again—harder. you cried out, head tipping back, the sound raw, obscene.

“you’re both fucked,” seungmin snarled, but his voice cracked mid-word because of the way your cunt clenched around him.

you couldn’t speak—couldn’t think—every inch of you reduced to a moaning, shaking mess under him. your legs locked around his waist and your fingers clutched his back, your breath coming in broken sobs of pleasure as he drove into you like he hated you.

you barely noticed felix moving—until he was closer. right at the edge of the couch, one hand wrapped around his cock, slowly stroking as he stared down at you. his eyes never left your face—how your lips parted with every thrust, how your gaze trembled between him and seungmin like you couldn’t decide where you wanted to be more.

“god, look at you,” felix murmured, voice dark with want.

you blinked up at him, lips glossy, eyes dazed but hungry.

“feels so good, lix,” you gasped, barely able to speak between the rhythm of seungmin pounding into you.

felix’s hand slowed for a second, breath catching.

felix’s voice dipped closer, the edge of amusement curling around the heat in it. “yeah?” he murmured, eyes dragging down your body like he owned it—like he always had.

you nodded, lips trembling, breath shattered. he leaned in, and his mouth caught yours—hot, hungry, tasting every broken moan that seungmin fucked out of you. his tongue tangled with yours, messy and deep, just as seungmin’s hand slid down your front, his palm pressing into your lower belly, fingers slipping lower until they found your clit.

you cried out against felix’s mouth, legs twitching, hips bucking, body burning from both ends. the kiss broke with a wet gasp, your head lolling back against the couch as your eyes rolled slightly, your moans loud and unfiltered now.

felix chuckled low, wiping a strand of spit from your chin with his thumb. “you’re such a fucking mess,” he said, voice rich with amusement.

seungmin let out a laugh as well—dark, breathless, as he ground into you harder, fingers relentless on your clit. his cock slammed into you, thick and unrelenting, the heat of him spreading molten through your stomach with every drag along your inner walls. you were gasping now, clawing at his shoulders, eyes fluttering.

“seungmin, fuck, i’m… i’m close,” you choked out, voice high and shattered.

his gaze snapped down to yours and that smirk came back. “gonna come from this?”

you whimpered, nodding fast, barely able to breathe. “yes, yes—please don’t stop,”

“fuuuck, listen to you,” he hissed, hips slamming forward, burying himself to the hilt again and again. his breath came rough and fast, sweat beading at his temples, jaw clenched so tight it looked like it might crack.

you felt yourself shatter, your cries were coming faster now, breathless, frantic, slurred through the haze of pleasure and overstimulation.

seungmin pressed his lips to you, his mouth crashed against yours like he was devouring you, lips bruising, tongue sliding in with filthy desperation. you moaned into him, loud and helpless, your body seizing beneath his as your orgasm hit—white-hot and blinding.

your cunt clenched around him, fluttering tight, wringing every inch of him as your hips jerked, stars exploding behind your eyes. your cry stuttered around his tongue as he swallowed every sound, kissing you through it, keeping you pinned.

above you, felix groaned.

his hand was tangled in your hair now, stroking the strands as his other pumped his cock in long, slow strokes. he watched you come undone with his eyes half-lidded, jaw slack, breath stuttering as his thumb traced lazy circles against your scalp like you were some obedient pet.

“fuck, you look perfect like this,” he muttered. “ruined and full…”

seungmin grunted, low and desperate, hips faltering as your walls kept clenching around him. his rhythm stuttered—and then he pulled out fast, a gasp torn from his throat as he wrapped his hand around his cock.

he jerked once, twice—and then his cum spurted hot across your stomach, up across your ribs, warm and sticky against your skin. his moan was deep, feral, drawn-out as his eyes rolled and hips twitched.

you lay there, panting, dazed, your body still twitching from the aftershocks—and then another groan.

felix stepped closer.

one hand cupped your jaw, thumb brushing your lips as he stroked himself with the other, his cock thick and glistening. he looked down at your face—flushed, breathless, mouth wet from seungmin’s kiss—and that did it.

he came with a snarl, thick white ropes streaking your cheek, your lips, your chin—painting your flushed skin like he owned every inch of it. his hand stayed on your face the whole time, thumb rubbing over the mess like he was proud of it, eyes fixed on you like you were the most perfect thing he’d ever seen.

“good girl,” felix murmured, voice low and warm as he leaned in, pressing a soft kiss to your forehead, so gentle it felt obscene. “fucking masterpiece.”

your lips parted around a shaky breath, cum dripping in slow, glistening rivulets down your chin and throat, pooling at the hollow of your collarbone. felix’s thumb smeared through it absently, still caressing, like he couldn’t help but admire the contrast—his release shining against your flushed, sweat-damp skin. 

you blinked up at him, dazed, your lashes clumped and cheeks burning. and then, slowly, you smiled.

seungmin let out a breath, still catching himself, sweat dripping from his brow as he looked down at the mess he’d left across your stomach—his cum still warm where it streaked your skin. 

you tilted your head, lips still slick, and felix groaned again, this time softer, almost reverent.

“my goodness, angel,” he whispered.

you hummed low in your throat, half-purr, half-taunt.

then, finally, your head tipped back onto the couch cushion. your eyes fluttered shut. the smile stayed—lazy, satisfied, gleaming.

like a girl who knew exactly what she’d done.

the sheets were still warm.

felix had you wrapped up tight, one arm snug around your waist, the other curled beneath your neck, fingers brushing your hair like he couldn’t stop touching you. you were tucked under his chin, his bare chest rising and falling steady against your back. his nose nuzzled into your hair with lazy affection, lips brushing soft against your scalp.

you stirred, eyes fluttering open to sunlight spilling through the blinds, thin golden lines stretching across the floor and up the rumpled duvet. your legs were tangled with his. 

and then— mwah a soft kiss to your temple. mwah another, to the edge of your jaw. mwah one on the curve of your shoulder, where his fingers swept your hair away.

“morning,” he whispered, voice sleep-rough and sweet, like honey dripped over gravel. “you’re so pretty like this.”

you hummed, face buried into the pillow. “it’s too early for this.”

“uh-huh,” felix said without shame, lips trailing along your shoulder blade now, down the dip of your spine. 

you laughed into the sheets, sore in all the right places, a soft ache between your thighs reminding you of exactly how ruined you’d been. his hand found your stomach, palm wide and splayed, thumb brushing the bottom of your ribcage in slow circles.

“you okay?” he murmured against your skin. 

you twisted in his arms just enough to meet his gaze—his eyes, glassy with sleep, crinkled at the corners with that barely-there smile that made your heart go stupid.

“i’m good,” you whispered. “better than good.”

he leaned in, kissed your nose, your cheek, the corner of your mouth. quick, playful. like he couldn’t stop. like every inch of you deserved a thank-you.

you furrowed your brows, reaching for the edge of the blanket. “by the way, where’s my bag?”

felix blinked. “huh?”

“my bag,” you said again, starting to sit up. “where is it?”

he pointed lazily, chin barely tilting. “nightstand, baby. why?”

you leaned over, the sheet slipping down your back, and grabbed the small crossbody. felix’s hand instinctively landed on your hip to keep you steady as you rummaged through the front pocket with a purpose. a second later, you turned and slapped bills into his chest.

his brows shot up.

“you win.”

felix blinked down at the money like you’d just handed him a dead bird.

he didn’t take it. of course he didn’t.

instead, he plucked the bills from his chest, slow and deliberate, and shoved them right back into your bag without a word. then he zipped it shut, dropped it on the nightstand, and flopped onto his back with a dramatic sigh, one arm draped over his eyes.

“you’re actually insane,” he muttered. “you think i’d ever take your money?”

you crawled over to him confused, settling on his chest. “we made a bet.” you said, like maybe he’d forgotten. 

felix let his arm fall to the side so he could wrap it around your waist and pull you in, skin to skin, like your weight on him was exactly where it belonged.

“yeah and i won, but you keep your money,” he said finally, voice all lazy warmth. 

you groaned, shoving your face into his chest like you could physically block out how disgustingly sweet he was being.

“felix.”

“hmm?”

“you are so annoying.”

“i know,” he said, unbothered, brushing his fingers up and down your spine. “and romantic. and incredibly sexy.”

you lifted your head just enough to squint at him. “you forgot modest.”

“oh, shush you,” felix said, grinning as he dragged his fingers up your spine in a slow, teasing stroke that made you giggle. he kissed your shoulder with a soft hum, like your laughter was his favorite sound in the world. 

felix kissed your shoulder one last time before murmuring into your skin, “let’s talk to him.”

your body stilled slightly, then you nodded. because you knew it was time.

felix slid out from beneath you, grabbing the shirt you’d tugged off of him sometime last night and pulling it over his head. you reached for the discarded tee you’d been wearing, padding across the room barefoot as felix opened the door.

the hallway was dim and still cool from the night air, but there was light coming from the kitchen. you could already hear it—the quiet clink of a mug, the scrape of a chair against tile.

of course he was up.

seungmin was always up earlier than you two. he didn’t believe in sleeping in. said it made his thoughts sluggish. said it let the day get too far ahead.

when you turned the corner into the kitchen, you found him exactly as expected—sitting at the table, coffee in hand, earbuds in but not playing anything. he looked up the moment he heard your footsteps, gaze flicking to you, then felix, then back to the mug in his hands like he already knew why you were there.

felix was the one who spoke first. “hey.”

seungmin didn’t answer. just took a slow sip, then set the mug down and pulled out one earbud.

you stepped forward. slowly.

he looked back at felix, then raised an eyebrow. “so. who’s idea was it?”

felix didn’t even hesitate. “mine.”

seungmin let out a short laugh, quiet but sharp, like a puff of air he didn’t plan on releasing. he leaned back in his chair, stretched his legs out under the table, and shook his head. “of course it was.”

“you’re not mad?” you asked carefully.

he sipped his coffee again. “i’m annoyed i got turned into a fucking science experiment, but i’m not mad.”

you tilted your head, smile pulling sharper as you crossed your arms and leaned against the counter. “well, good. because with your horrible commitment issues, it’s not like you’d want strings attached anyway.”

seungmin raised both brows, smirking now. “no strings attached, huh?”

you shrugged. “why? you suddenly want some?”

he scoffed. “god, no.”

“perfect then,” you said, biting back a grin.

seungmin lifted his mug in mock salut

you rolled your eyes, stepping toward the hallway with felix’s hand brushing yours again. “later, min.”

“later, trouble.”

you leaned in close to felix, barely loud enough for him to hear as you whispered, “come on.”

felix grinned, eyes flicking to yours with that lazy warmth that always made your stomach flutter. but before he followed, he reached over and ruffled seungmin’s hair. seungmin swatted him off with a dramatic groan. 

felix just chuckled and turned to follow you, letting the hallway light fall behind him as the two of you disappeared into the room. you didn’t say anything at first—just tugged him by the fingers until the door clicked softly shut.

then, without a word, you turned.

your hands slipped up his chest, your mouth already finding his, slow and sure. he kissed you back immediately, all lips and warmth and the quiet hum in his throat that made you feel like you belonged right there—tangled up in the soft hush of morning after chaos.

you smiled against his mouth, pulling back just enough to look at him.

“you okay?” you whispered.

felix nodded, brushing his nose against yours. “yeah,” he murmured. “everything’s perfect.”

and with that, you kissed him again—deeper this time—and let the door seal the rest of the world out.

[that-hazbin]

Sorta AU/story idea where Alastor's a serial killer but he doesn't... completely realize that he's a serial killer.

He's super mentally Not Okay with a whole load of traumatic baggage, and sometimes when he gets past a stress threshold, he sort of... blacks out. Not faint, exactly, but his body moves on autopilot while his consciousness is just. Not there.

The first time it happened, he was fourteen. His father had beaten him black and blue, and left him limp on the floor to go beat Alastor's mother. When Alastor came to the realization that his mother stopped moving, his vision went blurry.

When he regained consciousness, his father was on the floor, bleeding from the head, eyes glazed over. It looked like he fell and hit himself on the corner of the dining table. Alastor lost both his parents on the same day.

After that, Alastor started having "episodes" a bit more often. A majority of the time, he manages to get home, and when he wakes up, he's hiding under his bed or in his closet, confused as to how he even got home. He doesn't want to be admitted into an asylum, of course, so he keeps quiet about this.

Sometimes, though?

Sometimes, he'll wake up knee deep in water, staring into the dark of a bayou. Sometimes, he'll wake up half-submerged in his bath, red going down the drain, with no clue as to where he's injured. Sometimes, the person who was screaming at him before the episode hit just went... missing the next day.

Alastor keeps quiet.

Naturally, when Alastor dies, he goes to hell. He doesn't remember the crimes, but he did commit them regardless. Of course, when people ask him what he did to end up down there, he can't give a real answer. The truth of the matter is that he doesn't know. Sure, he has... suspicions. Theories. But he doesn't know.

Things happen. He has several black out episodes in Hell before they simply stop happening, because he's stressed all the time and he can't just block every single second of every day from memory. He learns how to consciously survive in hell. Makes a name for himself.

Things roughly stay truthful to canon from there.

Then, one day, Charlie has a brilliant idea for a hotel activity. Part of redemption means acknowledging what brought you to hell to begin with, and what you can do now to make up for those actions! They go around the room, talking about the sins they committed, and what they can do now to improve. Alastor fully intends to stay out of the activity, he's not working towards redemption after all, but... Of course, Lucifer has to taunt.

Lucifer: What, you're just gonna sit around judging us?

Charlie: Er, dad—

Alastor: Hilarious coming from you, your majesty, truly. In any case, your memory seems to be failing you, I'm not here for redemption. I have no reason to participate.

Lucifer: Uh huh, neither is the bartender or the maid, you think you can be exempt just because you're staff? I'm the King of Hell and you don't see me skipping out. And here I would've thought you would have taken the chance to brag about the fucked up shit you did up there.

Charlie: Hey, guys, I don't think—

Alastor: Husk and Nifty are grown adults who are perfectly capable of making their own decisions. I am also a grown adult, and my decisions don't need to reflect theirs.

Lucifer: Oh, I see, you're a coward then?

Alastor: Believe whatever you want to, it makes no difference to me.

Lucifer: Sure it doesn't. Why don't we make this a game, huh? I'll guess your sins, and you stop me when I get it right.

Charlie: Dad, Alastor—

Lucifer: Can't imagine you fucked before marriage or anything, I mean, you scream prude. Bet you died a virgin.

Alastor: Hah, I wouldn't know. Are you done with your childish taunts, or are you going to allow your daughter to continue?

Lucifer stops dead, both because of the reminder that he's interrupting Charlie's activity, and also because he's replaying Alastor sentence back in his head. And, as the father of lies himself, he realizes that Alastor... wasn't lying when he said he didn't know.

Charlie: Great, yes, thank you Alastor! So, anyways—

Lucifer: Wait.

Charlie: Dad!

Lucifer: Seriously, wait. Bellhop, what the fuck do you mean you wouldn't know?

Angel: ... Oh shit.

Alastor: ... Charlie, continue your activity.

Charlie: Uh.

Lucifer: Oh, FUCK YOU! No, what the fuck did you mean by that?! What, were you like, drugged or—

Angel: HEY LET'S TALK ABOUT MY DEEP DARK PAST AS A MEMBER OF A MAFIA FAMILY!

Charlie: YES THANK YOU ANGEL LET'S TALK ABOUT IT! I'M VERY PROUD OF YOU FOR VOLUNTEERING!

Alastor gets the fuck out of dodge, and Lucifer finally gets the hint that he definitely stepped on a landmine that he very much should have not touched. Unfortunately, Lucifer alongside everyone in the hotel are left with a misunderstanding regarding Alastor's history.

[ananke-xiii]

Betrayal&Fidelity in Purgatory

I've never been fully convinced that Dean modified his memories because his grief was just too much to bear and I've always been quite let down by the idea that Cas felt like he had to do penance for his sins. It's all too lukewarm for me so I went looking for other interpretations and oh boy. So, here's what I've come up with.

Cas and Dean are in Purgatory because they killed Dick Roman together and they did so because Dean asked Cas to go with him cursed or not. And Dean asked Cas to because Cas didn't want to. And Cas didn't want to because he regained his memories back, realized what he had done during his Godstiel arc and declared himself unable, cursed and useless. However, thanks to Dean Winchester's great power of persuasion, he was convinced to join the fight against the Leviathans because he detected a note of forgiveness in Dean's voice.

S7 Dean's and Cas' relationship boils down to this: Cas has forgotten everything while Dean can't stop thinking about what happened (the trenchoat moved from car to car is a nice visual symbol for this). When Cas is found out to be alive Dean is very torn between relief and... resentment. He seems to be quite angry at Cas not because of what Cas had done but because Cas had forgotten about it and had later decided he wasn't gonna do anything to fix what he had broken. In other words, Cas was refusing to remember his betrayal, more specifically his betrayal against Dean. And Dean wants him to remember. Cas told him he was going to find a way to redeem himself and then he died. And then he came back. And he didn't remember a thing. And when he did he was in clear denial and was planning on doing absolutely nothing of import to redeem himself besides making sandwiches.

Has Cas really betrayed Dean in s6? Mmmmmh. I'm not so sure. Does Dean feel betrayed by Cas? Absolutely yes. Does Cas feel like he betrayed Dean? Well, at first no but Dean did his best to make him understand that he did and so he did understand it. And so betrayal it was.

Now, in S8 Purgatory and beyond roles get reversed. Cas and Dean take the meaning of Purgatory in a very different way.

Cas does what Dean wanted him to do: he remembers. In fact, he takes remembering to a whole new level and decides to keep carrying his sin by going solo in Purgatatory fighting the monsters he had inside. Literally. Nice symbolism. In other words, he does penance.

And what does Dean do? He forgets. He's so imbued with what he perceives as the "purity" of Purgatory (which is what "purgatory" means so we really can't blame him if he felt that) that he frees himself of whatever happened before he got there. Now he has one goal in mind: find the angel.

Dean eventually alters his own memories to remember it like he wanted to: he didn't leave Cas behind, he didn't fail him. Cas let go. And, in a way, he didn't erase anything because Cas did let go. Just not physically but emotionally and that's what Dean couldn't bear to remember.

Cas was, once again, unfaithful to him. What?! Yes.

See, a paradox of betrayal is... fidelity.

Betrayer and betrayed are in such a profound bond (eheh) that they need to keep the betrayal alive by constantly remembering it. They can't let go and if one of the two parties does they are committing infidelity.

Truth be told, Dean didn't give two shits about Cas doing penance for his sins against heaven and earth: he cared that he did penance for the crimes committed against him.

So Cas letting go meant that he broke their unconscious vow to be faithful to one another.

He broke the connection (with Dean).

A Cas without Dean is a Cas ready to be reaped by Heaven. And so Cas enters a new abusive cycle of remembering and forgetting, remembering and forgetting by Naomi's brain drilling. Until Dean makes him remember (just like Cas made him remember what happened in Purgatory) and Cas broke another connection (with Heaven) but he also realizes that he will never get free of his past if he stays with Dean. He must protect the tablet (himself) from Dean. And so Cas leaves, he lets go of Dean. Again.

Of course this is not the right path because ultimately Cas thinks he can atone for his sins by... dying. He can reach purification in death. Castiel is indeed the Sam Winchester of the angels.

Thing is that Dean is very, very mad at Cas (this is showed twice in S9 too and once in S10) but he wants Cas to stay without acknowledging (with himself first and with Cas second) why he can bear to have around the guy who broke his brother's brain and for whom he spent one year in Purgatory only to be rejected by said guy (spoiler alert: it's because of love. Dean needs to keep the betrayal experience alive otherwise he will have to face the hard truth: he's in love... with an angel).

On the other hand, Cas feels very ambivalent towards Dean and he wants to stay away from him but he won't acknowledge why he needs to do so (spoiler alert: it's also because of love. Cas needs to let the betrayal experience die otherwise he will have to face the hard truth: he hurt the person he loves. Cas' self-harm inflicting tendencies are at their best by the end of s10 when he declares his allegiance and love to Dean in the moment he very well knows he will never get reciprocation: it's his "safest" option).

To sum it up, the phantom of betrayal must always hang around between Dean and Cas so that the other side of it can be concealed: love. However, by virtue of betrayal's paradox, their insistence on refusing to address this ghost shows how faithful and unfaithful they are to one another, howcommitted they are, how they are almost... married.

More on Cas as the betrayer: the betrayer keeps his fidelity by admitting he has betrayed, by refusing to forget it. They have to do so otherwise the wider context of love is missed. If the betrayer fails to do so they keep wronging the other person and they keep cutting themselves off from self-forgiveness. And so Cas, by refusing to acknowledge his betrayal specifically towards Dean, keeps hurting him and keeps himself in a vicious cycle of self-harm.

This is why "The Trap" feels like it missed something to me: we the audience actually know why and how Dean operates, we know he has forgiven Cas inexplicably (to Dean) since s6. Dean telling Cas in Purgatory that he forgave him was something that... we had already seen.

I would have found it more interesting if Cas told Dean something there and no, it didn't have to be his happiest moment ever, it would have possibly been his worst (and it could have been a good thing: sometimes bad moments are actually good moments): he could have admitted to his infidelity in their perverted version of marriage where the Scariest Thing (betrayal) actually constituted the foundations of their binding contract. It could have been a stepping stone towards "Despair".

There is much more to say because I have only touched upon the "love side" of the betrayal/fidelity dynamics. The other is power and it's possibly an even more interesting angle.

[archivalofsins]

Do you think there is a chance Es could have killed anyone before Milgram? And if so, how do you think the murder played out if you had to speculate?

You know I have a really fucked up thing to say to this. I like the idea of Es also killing someone. However, I've always liked the idea of them being the victim as well. Like how they were put in the victims places in undercover and how they said in Shidou's voice drama that they have no relation to his victims so they wouldn't care about that.

I always thought it would be really messed up if in actuality Es was related to all of their victims in some way. However, their personal dislikes and how they engage with the prisoners can tell us quite a bit about why they would commit a crime and how.

In Kazui's second voice drama Es states that it's a personal dislike of theirs people who act on their sexual impulses,

Imposter Boulevard 4:52s

"It's a personal dislike of mine. People who act on their sexual urges like that, that is."

This is a statement he doesn't make in regards to Yuno a prisoners who case is also one of a somewhat sexual nature. Es also makes the point to stress like that as in specifying that they dislike the way Kazui acted on these urges specifically. Prior to this statement Es states that what they took away from Kazui's first trial was that he was unfaithful.

So, the implication here would be that Es doesn't mind people who act on their sexual desires as long as they are not being unfaithful. Since Yuno was doing a form of work and was single this would naturally exempt her from Es' scrutiny. Because she was never unfaithful even if her clients were that's on them.

This is something that Kazui also elaborates on to Es going as far to state,

Imposter Boulevard 6:18s

I didn't even consider this a possibility... Personal impression sure can be scary. "If you say any more things than this that I don't get, I'm hitting you again." Geez cut out the hysterics... Hmm, if it's like this, that explains some things, though. I don't have kids, but I've heard this is what it's like. "Hey; stop blabbering on looking like you know it all. It's obnoxious." Hahaha! But you know what? You're wrong. "...? What are you talking about?" You're wrong. "..." You said that I was unfaithful- in other words, I cheated or committed adultery of some kind. "Yeah. That's what I deduced from your footage." It's not true. It didn't even turn into infidelity. It didn't turn into anything like that.

So, we know from Kazui's second voice drama that Es has a personal dislike for infidelity. No one forced them to say this- It is something they just admitted that has not been elaborated on. This was possibly set up for Mahiru's third trial considering I Love You,

"Saying I love you but doing what I did, I know I have no right, crossed and covered in sin."

Because Kazui straight up said this was wrong and not applicable to him while she is here throwing down the biggest I cheated energy of all time from jump,

Q.03   Have you ever cheated on someone?

Shidou: I haven’t. Mahiru: Of course not! How could you ever cheat on someone!? Right!?

Giving I would never be a bully guard there's nothing that could excuse such a thing energy. Like girl why you so defensive off rip it's just a question you kinda sound like someone who did that shit and feels deep shame looking for some form of comfort.

I don't know,

"I don’t need anyone else, as long as I have you. I could do anything as long as you smiled, I actually believed that."

Believed when did you stop believing it when you started fucking cheating? Like I don't know if Kazui isn't cheating like he said and they still felt the need to put in Es saying I personally hate infidelity where the fuck else was that gonna be used? Tell me. You don't just put foreshadowing in there for nothing that's not a offhand comment that's a character trait.

Where the fuck else was this supposed to be triggered? Now Kazui could just be lying and we find out it's cheating all the way down. I doubt it but Mahiru canonically states in her second voice drama that her and her victim were dating they had a normal relationship. A normal relationship one could in theory be unfaithful in just saying.

She was a lock for innocent really they threatened her with death. If she made it to trial three for Es to come in that bitch fuming like you cheating horrid and emotionally detrimental blight on romance I didn't want to give you that verdict. People would have died. They would have been getting folded verbally by Es who would be out of straws they already didn't agree with Kazui's verdict-

Because they just suspected they cheated. Mahiru came on the mic and did nothing but imply she was unfaithful then went tee-hee. Then we'd be in a trial three where a bunch of people who just a few years ago said divorcing someone was wrong would have to find a way to just blatantly defend being unfaithful which I find deeply funny.

Like ahn maybe she had a reason to take a ride on every horse on the merry-go-round who are we to say she's young commitment is hard at her age.

See that's an excuse cheaters use to.

The type who like to be locked into a committed relationship because they like the emotional stability of being found consistently desirable by someone. So they use them to boost their ego a little bit but they still enjoy the excitement of meeting new people and feeling that spark along with those heart racing moments. Like I don't wanna just have sex friends I want the emotional security of a committed relationship the ability to know that there's someone that will always want me at the end of the day and comfort me when I feel undesirable.

While also getting around and a lot of people with this mindset fundamentally to some extent believe that is how polyamory works but no that is just fucking cheating. Unless you blatantly have an open relationship or swinging both different things that are completely different from polyamory. If someone is not doing any of those things with each person in the relationships consent it's fucking cheating.

Es would've been in that interrogation room fuming if the audience didn't fuck Mahiru two ways. Look I'm not saying Es is wrong for feeling this way about being unfaithful there are so many very real ways to avoid being a fucking cheater emotionally, romantically, and sexually. Sadly to do this is to show a great disregard for other people and their sense of trust, their emotional stability, and their faith in love and romantic partnership as a whole. This will impact how this person trusts until they work it out emotionally probably in therapy or slowly over time learn to trust again and that the person who did that was simply not shit.

I'm not here to take a moral stance on cheating and infidelity. Everyone has there crosses to carry in life their failings, cheating doesn't make someone a completely unforgivable person undeserving of love, it just a failing in proper communication and considered to the relationships they may have. As well as indicative of them needing to work on themselves.

I read a graphic novel on cheating which came very against polyamory to an extent because the protagonist in their attempt to cope with how their trust was being consistently abused rationalized what their partner was doing through the use of polyamory and non-monogamous relationships. It's called Laura Dean Keeps Breaking Up With Me-

Really puts into perspective that one line from This Is How To Be In Love With You,

"Even when I test you, even the times we do the breakup ritual is because I love you."

Es states in Mahiru's first voice drama that they haven't been in love. So it's more likely that infidelity ended up negatively impacting them in some way. One way is if Es was someway related to Mahiru's victim Mahiru's infidelity could have prompted them into committing suicide or that may have been what was used to cover it up. Something that would rightfully make someone more sensitive about that.

However, what I believe would be more interesting is if one of Es' parents cheated. As well as Es being the guard because they have the highest body count of everyone here. So they were contrary to what Shidou claimed about himself the most exemplary example of a killer and ultimately needed there memories erased because keeping them as they were would have been detrimental to the project.

It doesn't really change the person Es naturally is if they don't remember it just means they're not gonna do the shit they usually did. I believe Es' crimes can all be related to the prisoners because they've committed many of them. I also believe this is something that the prisoners are aware of to varying degrees.

This would also tie into why Jackalope would make Es guard. Because as they judged the prisoners while being subjected to the opinions of many others they would be forced to inadvertently judge themselves and hear how people would view their actions. As well as be forced to empathizes with others situations and circumstances.

This would also explain why a lot of the prisoners issues overlap with Es' own. As well as the image of Es in undercover within prisoner restraints. But Gunsli Es' number is 00 if they're technically below Haruka wouldn't it make more sense for them to have no body count. Firstly zero is where everything starts and ends where it all comes together. Making Es simultaneously the start and end point.

The culmination of everything if we go by the clock imagery. The thing is the assertions that Es personally makes about the prisoners crimes outside of audience influence are kind of dead on. Like they've perpetrated themselves almost like they have firsthand experience to draw from to get to these conclusions.

Making me believe that Es has done a fair amount of the same things the prisoners have done or things for similar emotional motivations if stated by the text they would not know. Such as when Es said they haven't been in love as well as when in Es' voice drama Jackalope admitted Kazui may be a difficult case for Es because they are so young.

Jackalope should know the most about Es he brought them here. Now how do I think Es would kill.

Es would probably start off pretty small but not go as deep into killing animals as Haruka did. Probably only killing creatures that people more so accept people killing like bugs, mice, they'd probably be the sort of kid really invested in the frog dissection which fair. They'd have a bit of social disconnect from their peers due to how their parents brought them up. I believe this because of how much Es insists that Amane's parents are responsible for how she is.

Es would probably hold resentment towards their parents that resentment would be something that they like others in milgram would take out on other people peers in school other kids on playgrounds etc. This could lead to pretty serious injuries but not death. First time they killed someone might be when they were eight at some sort of big festival, event, or in a situation they orchestrated towards someone who'd been consistently bothering them due to their weirdness. Ultimately it would be a kid around Es' age probably deemed an accident but Es would know. Then it would escalate to possibly the killing both of their parents.

This would led to Es being in the system that incident would either be labelled a case of domestic violence gone wrong or another sort of accident depending on how Es does it. Because no one would believe a kid Es' age could kill two full grown adults or cause the accident that did. Then it really would just keep escalating from there. Under this framework Es would be this emotionally blunted teenager by the time they got to Milgram a bit standoffish like Kotoko and disinterested in speaking with others.

Jaded with society.

Probably not having a lot of or any good social interactions. Not really holding many biases about people just generally dislike them flat out. A lot of their positive engagements with people would be with the prisoners in Milgram who for one reason or another are similar enough to them that they get on well. Like Yuno said they all seem to have something missing that can be satisfied within Milgram and I think that goes for Es as well.

As Milgram gave them a purpose something that they seemed to have been lacking outside of the prison. As well as how Milgram stresses they give Es a bed to sleep in and three meals a day like that isn't something they received previously and is a very generous thing for them to do. Es is also shown to be prone to frustration getting incensed easily and lashing out violently in the face of defiance or belittling.

Something that doesn't just seem like a abuse of power due to Milgram's system but something they would regularly do. When Mikoto kicks their ass in his trial one voice drama this does not deter Es who continues to provoke him as though they've taken beatings like that before.

Es also responds to Futa at the end of his second voice drama,

Baptism of Fire 14:03s

If you don't forgive me I'll kill you, you know! "It's alright. If you and I are really the same kind of person like you claim, I'll end up like that sooner or later anyway."

Something that implies Es has already accepted what will happen to them if it turns out that they like many prisoners have stated are no different from the people they're judging. Ultimately I think Es is also a murderer but that's as good as I can do on how I believe their murders would have transpired. But it just feels fitting for the guard of Milgram to have the highest body count of everyone there. Especially when their job is to literally judge the murders others have committed.

It only be reasonable for them to have some experience with it.

[chiarrara]

I don't know I just feel like....

We just watched a man self-immolate in his military uniform. And I don't want to sound like an idiot, because it's much more than this but, couldn't you say that was a very extreme form of conscientious objection?

He could not be complicit anymore, but there is literally no way out of being complicit in this genocide if you live in America. For him especially, being trapped in military service. But for all of us. All of us are trapped in complicity in some way, and we can try to counteract that sin with as much meaningful direct action as we can possibly do, but all of that action comes with some proportional level of risk.

So, a man burned himself alive in an extreme form of conscientious objection (the only form available to him - one of great violence)

And people are still on here telling people to suck it up and vote for Biden.

I just... maybe I'm really stupid and I just can't see the logic y'all are putting forward. Because the way you lay it out it all seems to make so much sense to you. I understand we're trapped in a two party system. I understand the Republicans don't have the same consciences we do and are gonna vote en masse for Trump. I understand Trump is a danger globally and domestically. I understand all that, and I don't want his second term to come to pass. I'm not ignorant of how dangerous he is.

But a man self-immolated to object to the system of complicity he's trapped in, and the most logical response y'all have to a bunch of people wanting to opt out of complicity in this election, and the next four years of horrors that will be done in their name is to tell them, you just have to suck it up and be complicit. Your only tool is to make a phone call. You can try to protest, but there's a non-zero chance you'll be beaten and arrested and have your life ruined, by the way. You can donate to try and put a bandaid on the horrors you're seeing through your phone screen everyday (and you should, but God it's sure not stopping anything). But you're not allowed to object to being complicit in the selection of the Genocider-In-Chief.

It's not going to stop the genocide. We know this. It's not going to stop the election. We know this. It's not going to change anything directly, and Trump is going to get elected (which he will either way. most people who would vote against him are doing it anyway, y'all are fighting a very very small online minority).

But a man self-immolated in his military uniform. He didn't think that act was going to directly stop aid from going to Israel, or stop the genocide, or destroy the US military industrial complex. He didn't think his one small (but extremely brave and impactful) act was going to solve everything. Everything that was going to happen is still going to happen just with one less man in uniform.

But it wasn't nothing. It didn't do nothing. It's not his fault that the military will keep on chugging. It's not his fault that things are getting worse in Gaza every day. But he's not complicit anymore and he sent a message. And he had to die to achieve that.

And y'all are telling us we can't even do the very small act of not being complicit in the presidency. It's a less effective act of protest, but I also don't have to die for it.

It's not a boycott (I've seen this strawman, i don't know why you think we think that). It's not going to "send a message to the government" (obviously, we're not ignorant). It's to the Party that runs these candidates, and makes money off of "pick us because we're not the other guy" then commits crimes against humanity. I don't want to roll over and be fucking complicit in that.

Parties and candidates look at those numbers. they see how many people voted for them last time and how many people this time.

They don't care about our voices, and our protests, and our emails. They care about donations, and they care about votes. That's it. That's all they look at. If the emails and the phone calls and the protests don't result in a drop in one of those two things, they don't fucking care.

I don't know. This is a long ass ramble, but I'm trying to work out my feelings about this. Because we can't opt out of paying taxes, we can't really opt out of the benefits of living and being born in the Global North, we can't opt out of work, we can't opt out of the military, we can't opt out of following the law without extreme violence being brought against us. We can't do a whole fucking lot besides call, email, donate, and protest in a way that doesn't get us beaten and arrested, and if you do get beaten and arrested, you'll be dealing with the legal consequences for years or potentially the rest of your life.

And a man burned himself to death to object but I can't withhold my vote???

[final-girl96]

My Boyfriend's Back Chapter Forty-Two

The Next Day

Sidney and I decided we would go to the L.A.P.D. Just as we walked into the precinct we saw Dewey, who was in the middle of trying to get a hold of one of us. We did our greetings and then went back to meet Detective Mark Kincaid. He was definitely Sidney's type; dark hair, tall, very handsome, nothing like Billy. He asked us questions and we talked. We also found out that our mother was once an actress that went under a different name. The killer has been leaving her pictures at the crime scenes.

"Can we go where this picture was taken?" I asked. Detective Kincaid nodded his head. "Yeah, sure. It was taken at the studio." We then left with another detective and a few police officers in tow and went to Sunrise Studios. When we got there, we saw the metal stairs that were in the background behind our mom. "Why didn't she ever say anything? I mean, she went by a whole different name back then. Do you think dad knows about this?" I asked, Sid. "I don't know. He did say she had a lot of secrets," she said.

We were walking past one of the trailers when the door opened. I jumped back with a small yelp before looking up to see who it was. "Jesus, Randy! What the hell are you doing here?" I asked. "Who else is going to tell you the rules of a trilogy?" He shrugged. I rolled my eyes and pushed past him into the trailer. Sidney, Gale, and Dewey were close behind. We all sat down and listened to Randy go on about the rules of a trilogy.

"Okay, so here's the critical thing. If we find ourselves to be dealing with an unexpected backstory and a preponderance of exposition, then the sequel rules do not apply. Because we are not dealing with a sequel, you are dealing with the concluding chapter of a trilogy," he explained. "A trilogy?" Dewey asked, and Randy nodded.

"That's right. It's a rarity in the horror field, but it does exist, and it's a force to be reckoned with, because true trilogies are all about going back to the beginning and discovering something that wasn't true from the get go. 'Godfather', 'Jedi', all revealed something that we thought was true, that wasn't true. So if it is a trilogy we are dealing with, here are some super trilogy rules." Great more rules to try and remember while fight yet another fucking killer.

"One, we got a killer who's gonna be superhuman. Stabbing him won't work. Shooting him won't work. Basically, in the third one, we gotta cryogenically freeze his head, decapitate him, or blow him up." I raised my eyebrow at that, "really? Can't we just shoot him in the head and be done with it?" He shushed me and continued on.

"Number two; anyone, including the main character, can die. This means you, Sid, and you," he said, looking at me. "I'm sorry, it's the final chapter. It can be fuckin 'Reservoir Dogs' by the time this thing is through. Number three; the past will come back to bite you in the ass!" He gave me another look and I cleared my throat. "Whatever you think you know about the past, forget it. The past is not at rest, any sins you think were committed in the past are about to break out and destroy you."

He never took his eyes off me while saying that. I knew he was talking about Stu. This time around all that I've been hiding would come out into the public and then I'm fucking six ways to Sunday. "I'm just glad I got to be here and tell you all this. I made a tape back at Windsor as a just in case. Honestly, I'm surprised I survived since I lost my virginity to Karen Kolchak in the back of the video store in the porno section," Randy said.

"Creepy Karen?" Dewey asked, and I snorted, trying to keep from laughing. "Shut up! She's a nice girl!" Randy argued. "He went on a date not too long ago with her," I blurted out. Everyone looked at him, and he huffed out a heavy sigh. "She's a nice person!" After Randy was done with all his rule telling, and we calmed down from teasing him about Karen, we left the trailer. Sidney had to go to the bathroom, so I went with her while Gale went off to do her own detective work, and Dewey and Randy waited outside the sound stage for me and Sideny.

I stood at the sink, looking at myself in the mirror. Randy's words about the past coming back rang in my mind. I was so caught up in my own head that I didn't notice Sidney coming up beside me. "You okay?" I shook my head and looked at her. "Mmhm. Yeah, I'm fine." She turned the faucet on and washed her hands. We were getting ready to leave the bathroom when a noise from one of the stalls had us stopping in our tracks.

Sidney pulled out her pepper spray, and we slowly walked over to the stall. I took a deep breath and looked at Sidney, who nodded her head. She had her pepper spray ready, and I pushed the door open. A girl with short brown hair looked up at us after dropping her bag. I looked down to see a ghostface mask. Sidney bent down to help her pick up her things. "I wanted a souvenir. I didn't think anyone would mind," she said and quickly put all her stuff in her bag.

When she stood up and got a good look at us, her eyes got a little wide. "You're Sidney prescott! I'm you! Well, I mean, I play you in the movie, or I was supposed to." Sidney smiled at her, "it's nice to meet you…" The girl held her hand out, "Angelina. Well, I better get going. It was so nice to meet you both." Then she was gone.

"Well, that was weird," I said. Sidney bent down and picked something up. "Wait! You forgot your brush!" She headed for the door and rushed out into the sound stage. "Sidney, wait up!" I went after her, and we walked through a door, and as soon as I realized exactly where we were, I stood dead in my tracks. "Sidney, wait!" It was too late though she was already out the door.

I slowly walked through the hall and spun in circles. I was standing in the entryway of Stu's house. There were so many memories that came flooding back. It was unreal how accurate it looked. I looked into the living room. The first memory that came to mind was Randy going on about the rules to survive a horror movie.

"You don't know the rules?!" He stood up. "Great. Thanks, babe." He shrugged and looked at Randy. "Have an aneurysm, why don't you?" Randy stood in front of the tv and started his whole rule bullshit. "There are certain rules that one must abide by in order to successfully survive a horror movie. For instance, number one: you can never have sex." Everyone booed and threw popcorn at him. Stu kissed my neck. "It looks like we're dead, baby." I laughed and lightly hit him. "BIG NO NO!" Randy said, swatting at the popcorn.

"Sex equals death, okay? Number two: You can never drink or do drugs." There were cheers, and everyone raised their bottles. "The sin factor! It's a sin. It's an extension of number one. And number three: never, ever, ever under any circumstances say, "I'll be right back." Because you won't be back." Stu pulled out from under me and stood up, kissing my forehead, and then stood by the kitchen door. 'I'm gettin'' another beer, you want one?" He asked.

"Yeah, sure," Randy told him. Stu held his arms out, "I'll be right back," he said and backed into the kitchen. "See, you push the laws, and you end up dead. Okay, I'll see you in the kitchen with a knife."

That was all before shit really hit the fan and I learned that my boyfriend was a fucking psychopath who helped kill my mother. If only we could go back to the times before all this. Before the murders. Before our lives were made into a movie. We would never get away from this no matter how hard we tried.

[fyodcrs]

KATIE!!! I'm sorry I'm late ajdlslfkdkf but I had to drop in and ask, HOW ARE YOU DOING AFTER FYODOR'S EPIC REVEAL?? CAN YOU BELIEVE HE GOT A COMEBACK IN THE MOST GLORIOUS WAY POSSIBLE?? From theorizing it to finally having it in the actual manga, it's been a long time journey hasn't it?! :'D

I went back to read our old posts and you were really close in some of the parts like his ability being to "punish" someone "he" thought committed a "sin" (basically killing him lol). Please let me hear all your thoughts!! I'm also so happy for you!! I'm really glad they didn't finish off his character with the awful mersault death plot 😭😭

@kunikiiida-kuuun KRIS THIS WAS LITERALLY ME READING THE CHAPTER:

I MEAN WHAT A FUCKING ENTRANCE:

I've been thinking about all my old theories, and maaaan, I would have never imagined something quite like this. It's true that we were right about Fyodor's Ability "punishing" someone who has committed a "crime," though I wouldn't have thought that "crime" or "sin" was literally killing Fyodor himself, lol. And I WAS right that he is immortal (kind of?)!! Or at least that he's been around for hundreds of years!! I also seem to be right that he doesn't age, though I guess we'll have to wait and see if it's explained why his appearance hasn't changed in centuries.

It still hasn't been explained how he's able to kill with a touch, however. This hasn't been explained:

There are definitely more secrets to be uncovered when it comes to Fyodor, so it remains to be seen if there's more to his Ability or if this will end up being an inconsistency.

I think the true nature of Fyodor's Ability is really interesting in terms of Dostoevsky's novels, too. "Possession" (though not in the literal sense) is a motif that occurs in a couple of his novels, most notably Demons, but also, to an extent, The Brothers Karamazov and Crime and Punishment. In Demons the "possession" is specifically "demonic possession" in the biblical sense, though again, it isn't literally in the biblical sense, just the overarching symbolism. I actually started to write a meta about this several chapters back, so maybe I'll finish it, haha.

I definitely did not imagine that Fyodor would take over Bram. Poor Bram :( But damn does he look good in Bram's clothes and wielding the holy sword and Fukuchi's time bullshit sword 🥵

Also poor Genichirou :(

This doesn't really fix the issues with the Meursault arc, but if Fyodor really sent himself to prison in order to trick Dazai into sending himself to prison, too, that does actually explain the bizarre decision to get himself arrested in the first place, which was one of my biggest gripes. There are still plenty of other problems, but whatever, I guess sdfghjhfghjk.

I was becoming less invested in the series since the Infamous Helicopter Crash and the Dazai Friendship Speech of Doom, but I'm finally excited again!!! I'm really curious to see where this is gonna go. I know Fyodor is going to be defeated somehow, but I hope he causes all sorts of chaos first, he deserves to ଘ(੭ˊᵕˋ)੭* ੈ✩‧˚ ♡♡

Also Fyodor and Ranpo interaction maybe??? It better happen or I'm gonna be like (╮°-°)╮┳━━┳ ( ╯°□°)╯ ┻━━┻

asdfgdfgh Kris, I can't believe we've gotten this far, it's been years and we're finally getting answers. I'm so happy omggg. But I swear BSD just keeps getting wilder and wilder lmao

*hugs* 🤗🤗💖💖

[gummybugg]

Incorrect Quotes Tag!🚫

I think I was tagged by @mysticstarlightduck here and @rickie-the-storyteller here oh so long ago!

Here's the link to the quote generator:

I’m using my Crater City characters for this one! You can find out a bit more about them here!

By the looks of it, some of these could plausibly be canon ehehehe

Warnings in the tags!

…

*talking on the phone* Blair: Remember how I said that Elijah and I were gonna have a calm night out for once? Rose: Yeah… Blair: Well, we’re in jail. Rose: hangs up

-ˋˏ🚗- - - - -

Blair: Guess what? Rose: What? Blair: No, you have to guess. Rose, thinking: I don’t know. Blair: Elijah is in the hospital. Rose: Why would you make me guess that?! Rose: What happened?!

(Coincidentally, Elijah really does get rushed to the hospital in the story😔).

-ˋˏ🚗- - - - -

Rose: So, Blair and Elijah. Rose: According to this, you two are being accused of: Armed Robbery, Vandalism, Drug Abuse, Grand Theft Auto… Blair: We had a bad day. Rose: And… MURDER?! Elijah: It was a pretty bad day…

(The only crime either of them haven't committed on this list is technically drug abuse, but even then that's sketch. Yes, I have a doc dedicated to their numerous crimes)

-ˋˏ🚗- - - - -

Blair: Do you care if I take the skin off this Furby? Blair: I want to make him a god. Once he is free of his sinful flesh, he can begin a path towards enlightenment. He will take care of us. Blair: I also want to softhack his circuits. Elijah: I literally could not care less but never say anything as frightening as that ever again.

(They stole the furby from Rose, an avid collector of antiques. Elijah ends up helping Blair hack his furby because they're both computer nerds and think it'd be funny to prank her)

-ˋˏ🚗- - - - -

Rose: Goddamn it, the printer broke while printing out Blair's birthday invitations. Elijah: Well, what are they supposed to say? Rose: "Blair's birthday" Elijah: So, what do they say instead? Rose: "Blair's bi" Elijah: Works out either way.

-ˋˏ🚗- - - - -

Rose, to Blair: If you see Elijah, give him this message *makes a neutral face*  Rose: He'll know what it means.  *later*  Blair: oh, and Rose said to give you a message.  Blair: *makes a neutral face*  Elijah: Oh no. The neutral face of displeasure. 

-ˋˏ🚗- - - - -

Frasier: I keep a picture of all of us in my wallet. Whenever I face difficulties, I take it out and stare at the picture.  Blair, Elijah, and Rose: Awwww-  Frasier: And I tell myself "If I can deal with these idiots, then I can deal with anything."  Blair, Elijah, and Rose: Oh. 

(Frasier got that father/older brother bond with his sister Rose + her friends :')

-ˋˏ🚗- - - - -

Rose: Pose as a team because SHIT JUST GOT REAL!

-ˋˏ🚗- - - - -

Darcy: I could kill you if I wanted. Blair: Yeah? So could any other human being. So could a dog. So could a dedicated duck. You aren't special.

(Ranked #1 on Top 10 Best Moments Before Tragic Anime Death)

-ˋˏ🚗- - - - -

Darcy: Go big or go home! Frasier: Please, for once in your life just go home. I'm begging you. Go. Home. Darcy: I'm going big!

(He did not go home. In fact, Darcy went on to lead one of the most notorious cities in Neo-civilization)

-ˋˏ🚗- - - - -

Darcy: How are we supposed to put a tracker the size of a penny on Blair without him noticing? Melony: Hey, Blair, I bet you 5 bucks that you can't swallow this penny. Blair: takes and swallows tracker Pay up, loser. Darcy: ...

-ˋˏ🚗- - - - -

Frasier: Darcy gave me a get better soon card. Melony: That's sweet! Frasier: I wasn't sick, he just thinks I can do better.

-ˋˏ🚗- - - - -

Darcy: Look, I know you think my judgement's clouded because I like Frasier a little bit. Melony, holding Darcy's notepad: You doodled your wedding invitation. Darcy: No, that's our joint tombstone. Melony: My mistake.

(Let's just say Darcy and Frasier have their hypothetical facebook status set to "complicated")

-ˋˏ🚗- - - - -

Bonus-ish Content: an AU where everyone gets along

Blair: We can bake these cookies at 400 degrees for 10 minutes or 4,000 degrees for 1 minute. Darcy: No, that's not how you make cookies. Elijah: FLOOR IT!! Blair: How about 4,000,000 degrees for 1 second?!? Darcy: yOU'RE GONNA BURN THE HOUSE DOWN- Blair: I'M GONNA HARNESS THE POWER OF THE FUCKING SUN TO MAKE COOKIES! Frasier: DO IT! Darcy: NO-

…

Tagging: @charlesjosephwrites @cwritesfiction @comicgoblinart @crowandmoonwriting @writeouswriter @acertainmoshke @abalonetea & anyone who wants to try this tag out. Very fun :')

...

🚗Want to rot your brain with each sporadic Crater City post? Join the taglist! Maybe I'll finish this wip someday, who knows! (ask to be added/removed): @writeouswriter @lyra-brie @digitalsatyr23

[stalkersdiary]

Hiiii Sir! I have committed SO MANY SINFUL ACTS because of you. UwU When I saw your most recent post I screamed. YOURE SO HOT.

Congrats on 100 followers! To celebrate I got some of my favorite clips of your voice from streams, that podcast you were a guest on, and even our little phone call and I was wondering if you wanted to check it out. <3 Love youuuu!

Now for the JUICY questions I really wanted to ask. You mentioned a while ago that you had a partner who was "worse that you were" so I have to like ask now what extreme things have you done before for/because of love? OH AND you mentioned you dont have a lot of friends because your awkward and shy and never leave the house and stuff. WOULD YOU ACCEPT RANDOM DMS? CAUSE I WANNA TALK TO YOU MORE AND I FEEL LIKE OTHERS WOULD TOO!

- JATTA Your loyal fuck toy <3 PS.

Solid Warning for anyone reading. Part of this is going to be honest. A little too honest. Hello again Mocha. I start to get used to you and then you break out the term "Loyal fuck toy" and I have to do a double take. Hahaha. To answer all of this, I'll do so in order. I was never really here for the followers or likes but I am happy to entertain and help people feel understood. As for the audios, I just listened to which ones you posted and I'm trying so hard not to laugh. I sound so gross over the phone. Hahaha I'm glad you put up with me during my streams. ^^ I'm amused that people still think I sound like Corpse or Riot. Nat, I don't get a he sounds so nasal in comparison to me but any comparisons are funny. As for the "Juicy questions" I have a few interesting answers you maybe didn't expect. For legal reasons, this is a fictional blog by a "yandere", but you and I both know the truth. We both know that a yandere isn't real even if the concept is. I've committed serious crimes for many reasons aside from love, like self defense, and a few of my hobbies. Many of which could be worse but are extreme to most people. Aggravated battery, aggravated assault, and even non-aggravated Arson. Felonies are linked to my memories but nothing is linked to my name as I was never caught. It's a bit funny. Oh and let's not forget that some thing's titles are a little "tricky..." I have class 1 and f1 violations, first and second degree, and petty theft all hidden in my past. I don't know the laws well enough to know which one is which anymore. I don't do anything these days as I'm not... where I used to be. However the memories are very strong and I know what I used to be capable of... I can't do what I used to because I'm not the person I used to be and I'm glad I'm not. Don't worry, it was so long ago and so unimportant to everyone related to the incidents that there is no way I'm gonna be in trouble now. ^^ As for the possibility of DMing me, go for it! I still don't really have friends but I would love to talk to someone. Anyone can DM me. I just hope they know what they're getting into as I tend to be very awkward and I overthink a lot. I tend to not talk first because I assume everyone has already gotten tired of me. On a funny note, as I was writing this a friend looked over and asked me if I would put the Whump tag and now I have another thing I need someone to explain to me because I have never heard her laugh this hard. Oh dear. Hahaha Thank you for opening the Stalker's Diary.

[imhereforscm]

Which Agatha Christie book would you recommend to an absolute beginner?

You gave me a chance to talk about books and my dear Agatha Christie and that made me very excited😁💖💖

I believe there's no "hard-to-read" book among Agatha's books. It's really up to what anyone likes and/or dislikes!

My personal opinion on her books is that I've never been disappointed. Also, it covers crime cases from a perspective of human psychology. It's not just about footprints and fingerprints and all that technical aspects and that's what makes me love those books, among other crime ones I've started and dropped many times, because I wasn't hooked.

But I'm gonna recommend three of my favourites. Again: I love all of her books, but these are my favourites so far:

*warnings: all of these books center around murder*

Lord Edgware Dies

This is the first book I read of hers.

The premise just like it's written in Goodreads:

It's true; Hercule Poirot had been present when the famous actress Jane Wilkinson bragged of her plan to ‘get rid of’ her estranged husband, Lord Edgware.

Now the man was dead. And yet the great Belgian detective couldn’t help feeling that he was being taken for a ride. After all, how could Jane have stabbed her thoroughly detestable husband to death in his library at exactly the same time she was seen dining with friends? And what could be her motive now that the aristocrat had finally agreed to grant her a divorce?

Cards on the Table

The premise by Goodreads:

A flamboyant party host is murdered in full view of a roomful of bridge players!

Mr. Shaitana was famous, as were his parties. He was also a man of whom everybody was a little afraid. So, when he boasted to Poirot that he considered murder an art form, the detective had some reservations about accepting a party invitation of cards and viewing Shaitana’s private art collection. Indeed, what began as an absorbing evening of bridge was to turn into a more dangerous game altogether…

Something else I want to add, which my version on the book had written on (idk why it's not mentioned here, when it's a crucial element and it really piqued my interest): in this case, there's no "who's most likely to commit murder." Because the special element in this case, is that all suspects have committed murder in the past. Therefore we know it could be anyone.

Elephants Can Remember

I found the psychological topic this book was dealing with to be SO intriguing. I can't tell you which theme it was specifically though, because that would be spoiling it.

Premise from Goodreads:

Hercule Poirot stood on the cliff-top. For here, many years earlier, there had been a tragic accident – the broken body of a woman was discovered on the rocks at the foot of the cliff. This was followed by the grisly discovery of two more bodies – a husband and wife – shot dead. But who had killed whom? Was it a suicide pact? A crime of passion? Or cold-blooded murder? Poirot delves back into a crime committed 15 years earlier and discovers that, when there is a distinct lack of physical evidence, it’s just as well that ‘old sins leave long shadows.'

I've read more books by Agatha, but these are my personal three favourites (I hope I'm not forgetting any, but I don't think I do). But of course, my words are subjective! These books might not be everyone's cup of tea, so if you think my recommendation were not satisfying, you can always look up more yourself💖💖 (I suggest you not going on Wikipedia, because there are HUGE spoilers there. Go on Goodreads.)

These books are from Poirot's series of stories. Agatha has also written about Miss Marple. I haven't read a lot of Miss Marple yet, but from my very little experience with her, she's very likable too.

The difference between Poirot and Miss Marple is that Poirot dives into the core of human psychology and all it's possible twisted states as a detective, while Miss Marple is just an elderly lady that lends her brains into cases she might come across. And mainly, Miss Marple does it by revisiting experiences from her life that remind her of certain aspects of the cases.

Both characters are absolutely lovely and breathtaking and even though they both have different approaches to solving cases, they're both very intuitive and their brains are wonderful in their own unique ways.

[fertilize-my-eggs]

I'm gonna be honest, I hope there others who can relate to this if not it's fine, I just wanna talk about it.

Ever since I became both a proship and lolishocon for I think two years, I can say it's been the best. I can literally draw or write whatever I please because it's fiction yes I was kinda like an anti when I first started twitter around 2021 I used had a mindset of this whole ' mortality ' thing where I remember I say:" that fictional child!! " Something like that how I was scared to retweet fanartist's drawing anime minors in such a lewd way. The more I was on twitter, I slowly realized how antis would normalize this disgusted behavior like harassing, telling others to off themselves or doxxed and straight up act more crazy and constantly calling themselves as " normal ".

As an autistic woman, I always get so speechless and overwhelmed by the amount of times, I've seen antis used photo of children vs lolis debates and how they would say:" they look the same. "

News flash you're a fucking weirdo if you used photos of CHILDREN when you're arguing about a 2D fictional characters.😮‍💨😮‍💨

Antis makes me concerned the most because y'all say you're 'normal' but here you are posting CSEM on A03 to prove what?? You scream at anyone who's a proship or lolishocon a predator WHEN YOU'RE POST ACTUAL CSEM ON A03 where a website where you post fanfics 😮‍💨😮‍💨

Antis time and time again y'all overwhelmed me the most. Stressing me out because I like dark content?? Because I love fictional content but you're calling a victim a predator DOESN'T HELP ANYONE AND MAKE ME AS A VICTIM UNCOMFORTABLE WHEN YOU'RE CALLING ME A PREDATOR... ( This happened countless times. )

I know this is a small rant, I need to let's this out and talk about it because I used writing to cope, I used drawing to cope as well but it will never make me want to commit a crime because I know it's fiction people these days shouldn't be harassing others for liking an anime characters or ship two fictional characters together and you scream it as if it's sinful or act someone murder your whole family when it's not and you shouldn't be triggered yourself if you don't like the content.

I personally don't go after people who are into vore, age play, diaper lovers or anyone who into that because I don't look for it, I mind my business or just block the content if it makes me uncomfortable. Because that's what NORMAL people do.

Anyway thank you for reading all of that and my random ted talk, I need to talk about it.

If anyone asks me how I'm feeling? I'm doing well, I try to stay away from drama or social media and I've been doing a bit better. I'm been more with my family and trying to get into a relationship again hopefully I'll meet new people soon because I want a handsome man or woman, I'm not picky unless you're a milf or cute femboy👀😏💕

( P.s. please stop treating fictional characters as real people please, you're not helping anyone. )

[yandereocs]

MORE PHOBIAS CUZ I SAID SO 👹👹👹

Acerophobia

(Fear of sourness)

Allodoxaphobia

(Fear of opinions)

Amaxophobia

(Fear of being in a car)

Ambulophobia

(Fear of walking)

Acousticophobia

(Fear of noise)

Amychophobia

(Fear of being scratched)

Anablephobia

(Fear of looking up)

Apeirophobia

(Fear of infinity)

Asthenophobia

(Fear of fainting)

Automysophobia

(Fear of being dirty)

Agraphobia

(fear of sexual abuse)

This is because of Elijah 💀

Bromidrosiphobia

(Fear of body smells)

Botanophobia

(Fear of plants)

Cacophobia

(Fear of ugliness)

Catapedaphobia

(Fear of jumping)

Cathisophobia

(Fear of sitting)

Chirophobia

(Fear of hands)

Chronomentrophobia

(Fear of clocks)

Cleisiophobia

( Fear of being locked in a space that is enclosed)

Clinophobia

(Fear of beds or going to bed)

Crystallophobia

(Fear of crystals or glass)

Cynophobia

(Fear of dogs)

Amathophobia

(fear of dust)

Androphobia

(fear of adult men)

Aurophobia

(fear of gold)

Batophobia

(fear of heights or being close to high buildings)

Catapedaphobia

(Fear of jumping from high and low places)

Christianophobia

(fear of Christians)

Cleptophobia

(fear of stealing)

Clinophobia

(fear of going to bed)

Dinophobia

(fear of dizziness or whirlpools)

Dipsophobia

(fear of drinking)

Disposophobia

( fear of throwing stuff out)

Domatophobia

( fear of houses)

Dysmorphophobia

(fear of a real or imaginary body defect)

Doraphobia

(Fear of fur or skins of animals)

Enetophobia

( fear of pins)

Enosiophobia

( fear of having committed an unpardonable sin or of criticism)

Eleutherophobia

( fear of freedom)

Epistaxiophobia

( fear of nosebleeds)

Epistemophobia

(fear of knowledge)

Erotophobia

(fear of sexual love or sexual abuse)

I know that sexual content is not allowed here but I decided to add it because of Elijah 😀

Ereuthrophobia

(fear of blushing)

Fibriophobia

(fear of fever)

Frigophobia

( fear of cold or cold things)

Genuphobia

(fear of knees or the act of kneeling)

Genophobia

(fear of sexual intercourse)

Blame Elijah 😭

Gynophobia

( fear of adult women)

Gnosiophobia

(fear of knowledge)

Geumophobia

(fear of taste)

Hagiophobia

(fear of saints or holy things)

Hamartophobia

(fear of sinning)

Heliophobia

(Fear of sunlight)

Hormephobia

(Fear of shock)

Hydrophobophobia

(fear of rabies)

Hygrophobia

(fear of liquids, dampness, or moisture)

Hypegiaphobia

(fear of responsibility)

Cardiophobia

( fear of the heart)

Cenophobia

( fear of new things or ideas)

Dextrophobia

(Fear of objects on the right side of the body)

Doraphobia

( fear of fur or skins of animals)

Hierophobia

(Fear of priests or sacred things)

Hobophobia

(fear of bums or beggars)

Hodophobia

(fear of travel)

Hormephobia

(fear of shock)

Kainophobia

(fear of anything new, novelty)

Kathisophobia

(fear of sitting down)

Kinetophobia

( fear of movement or motion)

Mageiricophobia

(fear of cooking)

Malaxophobia

(Fear of love play)

Masklophobia

(fear of people in masks, costumes, and mascots)

Mastigophobia

( fear of punishment)

Methyphobia

(Fear of alcohol)

Mnemophobia

(fear of memories)

Microphobia

(fear of small things)

Monophobia

(fear of being alone or isolated or of one’s self)

Mysophobia

( fear of being contaminated with dirt or germs)

Oneirophobia

(fear of dreams)

Onomatophobia

(fear of hearing a certain word or names)

Optophobia

( fear of opening one’s eyes)

Panphobia

(fear of everything or the constant fear of an unknown cause)

Paralipophobia

( fear of neglecting duty or responsibility)

Peccatophobia

(fear of sinning or imaginary crimes)

Phagophobia

(fear of swallowing)

I will be sending more soon

My hands hurts 😭

Yandere harem is probably regretting everything they have done to darling

-⭐

* I love how every sexual phobia is because of Elijah and no one else. Because that is SO TRUE THAT MAN IS TERRIBLE

* And I'm sorry Darling you just have to like

* Die bro you physically CANNOT EXIST WITHOUT PANICKING OVER EVERYTHING

* SWALLOWING?? DARLING HOW ARE YOU GONNA EAT NOOO

* BRO CAN'T EVEN WAKE UP IN THE MORNING WITHOUT PANICKING CAUSE THEY OPENED THEIR EYES

[archivalofsins]

Gonna be sooo honest right now.

Kotoko is Vanitas from Vanitas No Carte coded. Also Haruka and Mu give Chloe and Jean Jaques energy with the level of dependence they're on. I'm not taking criticism this is Haruka and Mu to me.

If you can't see the vision you're not trying hard enough. I don't even feel like I need to break this down. This is the energy I'm hoping to see from them for trial three.

Everyone else is is out here being very responsible and hoping this man lives to see trial three and I'm just here like,

"It's me boy the voice of cyclical sin-"

"Eh, this voice is kind of different... it's not mad at me."

"Hey, let's talk a second. Don't you wanna try to kill someone in Mu's name? Do it! It'd be sooo funny."

I don't know if I should listen to this voice though it seems to have really bad advice...but, "Will that get me attention again?"

"Ey it worked before. Remember your promise to us? You said you'd keep killing to be our good boy right- Take the shot. Do it~"

"Mmm... I don't know it seems like none of you liked the murder. Plus, I promised to be good for Mu-san..." looking around conflicted...

Futa, "Um are you alright? What do you mean didn't like the murder???""

"Ah-nothing!" I've just gotta be good and keep my promise to Mu.

Me, "You mean the girl you could only meet because you killed before. Come on think about it. Do it one more time. See how many people have their eyes on you then. You could do the funniest and most eye catching thing right now. Nobody would be expecting it."

"Seriously are you okay Haruka?"

"Really think about it you can't get anymore attention if you're dead even if you do you want be able to bask in it. Come on now really think about it."

"Ughn... I don't know if I am did the voices you heard tell you commit crime again?"

"Ah-what no of course they fucking didn't what are you hearing?!"

Me, "Do it kill someone~"

"Hey, you get out of here shoo! Shoo evil temptress! Don't listen to that one it's weird."

"It would still be funny if you beat up the guard Futa try again-"

"Get out of here go!! Of with you-"

Every other guard here I hope you get better. Me do you hear that heart beat beneath the floor boards. The injustice in every gear- Can you hear the raven cawing. Don't you just want to go off at the absurdity of it all.

"Mu you could do something so funny right now."

Mu, "Eh?"

Futa barging into the room punching the air, "I told you to leave!"

"Aw I wanted to hear them out a bit..."

"Hah don't listen to them just do what you want!"

[duckthisone]

As a Proshipper who is also repulsed by the idea of being physically intimate with anyone irl and wouldn't want to do that with anyone irl, I am literally a walking contradiction for antis. Because I'm living proof that just cause I write/draw/create taboo stuff in fiction doesn't mean I support it or would do it irl.

Because I think intercourse irl is actually disgusting and would rather yeet myself into an ocean and drown in it, than ever be subjected to it irl. But I still love fictional NSFW because I can explore NSFW in a space that has nothing to do with me and no one actually gets hurt.

Fictional preferences literally have nothing to do with morality. I know immoral shit is wrong irl and would never endorse it or participate in something like that. But that doesn't mean I won't explore it in a fictional setting.

Like for example! I like horror/murder mystery. Why would it be okay for me to write murder? But not okay for me to write something like idk incest? There are no real victims in either scenario. No one actually died, and no one actually went through sibling abuse. No crime was actually committed.

You cannot commit crimes against people who don't exist. They're nothing more than concepts. Imaginary images in your head. They're not real.

Obviously murder and incest are just as bad irl, and trying to do those things IRL is not okay. But writing/drawing/creating content of it with fictional characters isn't bad, because the things they're going through isn't actually happening to a real person.

Like yes murder and incest can happen irl, but it's not like we're specifically writing murder/incest that happened to a real person. We're writing it happening to a character in our minds. And therefore there's no victim.

Like if you're gonna be an anti and say Proship NSFW taboo comment is immoral and you're a bad person, then surely antis obviously should think that people who write about murder are also bad people.

Right????

No.

I've never seen Antis go after someone for writing a fictional murder. It's only ever when it's about fictional sex that antis get all pressed. Why?

It's all puritan bullshit. Physical intimacy in general has been framed as this taboo topic. As if it is a creation of sin itself, which it isn't. But yeh, the only reason antis froth at the mouth over taboo NSFW content is because all physical intimacy in their mind has been framed as apprehensible. And that it's wrong if it's not for baby making/or saved until after marriage.

Like I might be disgusted by intercourse irl, but even I know I intercourse is something that just exists. And there is nothing wrong with it, and it's not this big sin like people think it is. Anyways, antis really need to take a step back and calm down.

There's nothing wrong with creating fictional taboo content, so long as the person writing it doesn't endorse or practice what they create IRL.

Also, comparing fictional taboo content with actual irl crime is not okay. It's a slap in the face to victims of said real crimes. Like you cannot compare a fictional character being murdered or violated or anything else to a real person going through that!

Going after fictional taboo content undermines the severity of real crimes happening to REAL people. You cannot compare them at all. Because one has no real victims, while the other does. There are no such things as THOUGHT crimes. One cannot be arrested or charged for fictional content that they created, because they've not done anything actually bad.

have no energy to offer much of a response but i appreciate your vulnerability here anon. i agree with you wholeheartedly

[realmflora]

Sins of her love Are not yours to Carry On

"Neither of us deserved what the world gave to us, huh?"

"..."

Chero falls out of the other side of the portal with a thud, but doesn't even spare a second to register the pain. He stands up and looks around for that stupid motherfucking ASSHOLE.

"Dude! Committing is not the way to go!" Chero calls out, beginning to walk through the forest he was dropped in. "Trust me! I have tried several times and it's only fucked me up!"

He doesn't get a response, which causes him to groan loudly. Is this what other people felt like when he was going off about the whole cop-suicide thing? Because man, this is hella stressful.

"You're wasting your time, Cherophobia."

Xaviero appears in front of Chero out of literally nowhere, which causes Chero to jump. Once he's calmed down from that absolute jumpscare, he gives Xaviero an exasperated look.

"Hey, if I wanted you dead twice over, I would've let you drop into your portal and do your thing, wouldn't I? But I didn't. And if I, the guy who has committed like- more crimes than you ever will- is not wanting you dead, maybe you can transfer that logic over and assume that committing will make things worse for everyone instead of better? Hm? Is that food for thought?"

Xaviero closes and opens his palm, giving Chero a concealed look that made him feel uneasy. But if that was Xaviero's intention- to scare him away- he wasn't gonna back off. Hell, he'll stick around just to make him mad. As long as Xaviero just stays alive, then it doesn't matter if this guy despises him forever and beyond.

"I don't know why you're so concerned about whether I live or die when I just tried to sentence you to the equivalent of solitary confinement." Xaviero narrows his eyes. "Really, you should be doing the opposite. If you need a little nudge in the right direction, then I'm happy to help."

Chero isn't stupid- he can sense the portal under him well before it appears, jumping off to the side and latching onto a tree. He sticks his tongue out at the other god as well.

"Fuck you and your magic portals. I'm trying to help you, for fucks sake. Why can you not just let me help you."

...He's such a fucking hypocrite, isn't he?

Xaviero rolls his eyes, opening and closing his palm again.

"You're only doing so to prove to me that you have a heart still."

"And your evidence to prove that is?"

"I know how you are."

Xaviero attempts to portal Chero away again, but the celestial is too quick and jumps into another tree.

"You really don't. You only know what the records have on me and your own general assumption. I could be an absolute sweetheart and you'd never know."

Chero dodges yet another portal as Xaviero scoffs. {Just how much magic is this guy using right now?}

"Anyone else in your shoes would do the same thing you are for the sake of brownie points. I'm not stupid."

Chero mimics Xaviero's scoff, teleporting right in front of the other.

"Well, actually, you kind of are. We offered you help, and you denied it because you 'think this path is better' or something, right?" He crosses his arms. "If you 'know me so well' then you'd know I had the exact same mindset just not too long ago, back when I was torturing Scaramouche, Wanderer, and Cyrille. Except I was being more..."

He pauses, trying to find a word.

"Being more bitchy about it?" Xaviero suggests. "Yeah. Yeah, that." Chero gives him a brief look of amusement. "And Sakura nearly did the same thing- tried to handle Rhea by themselves because 'it's better that way' and 'they can handle it more than we can'. But if you notice, everytime one of us Angelitrian kids have tried to handle something by ourselves, it goes so fucking wrong."

{Sis, I'm sorry, but I'm stealing your speech really quick.}

"I tried to avenge Rhea slash Sakura by myself- nearly got myself killed, even though that was my main intenton. Sakura tried to handle Rhea's ghost by themselves- nearly got sent to fucking Heaven. I tried to deal with that obsessive asshole Anemone- got possessed. Leia tried to manage her emotions on her own- nearly cracked the fucking sky in two."

"Growth for all of us is realizing that all of us are stupid. You're stupid, I'm stupid, the lesbians are both stupid- ALL of us. We're kids. We're going to be fucking stupid a lot, because that's what kids do. They be stupid, they cry, they laugh, they have emotional fits, they be themselves."

"We're holding ourselves to too high of a fucking standard just because of our Heavenly statuses. But guess what? Me getting power didn't mature me. Sakura matured on the outside, but not on the inside. Leia becoming everyone's BOSS didn't magically make her an adult. You're literally older than everyone minus Adi, but hell, you're not mature either, no matter how many big ol' long dictionary words you use! We're not going to mature, and we never fuckin' will, so why not just live our lives like we're supposed to- like stupid children?"

He stops to take a few breaths, giving Xaviero a small smile.

"It won't kill us, yeah?"

Xaviero is silent in thought.

At least, this is what Chero had assumed, before Xaviero had tried to portal him away a-fucking-GAIN. The nerve of this snow-haired asshole.

"Dude! Can you not try to throw me away after my big fucking speech?"

Chero teleports off, and now it's just a battle of him dodging a bunch of portals that kept trying to drag him back to Adi and the others. He has already gone too far, already got too invested- backing down now would just be cowardly and kind of genuinely mean of him.

"You know what? Fine."

Xaviero stops summoning portals, just as Chero teleports into another tree. He sighs in relief.

"Okay, good. Come on- I'll teleport us to camp and introduce you to the lesbians. They may be wary of you, but they'll warm up to you eventually."

Chero begins climbing down the tree, but pauses when he hears a beeping noise. A loud, frantic beeping noise, as if something was trying to alert Chero of..

{I forgot about the fucking timer.}

Just before the timer on Xaviero's heart reaches zero, Chero tackles the older god and the two are flung into another portal that Xaviero had intended to be for Chero- back to camp right where they started.