#my way to like. REJECT ALL FEMALE MANNERISMS or anything like that

[thebenjiblackwoodexpress]

The Blackwood Knight prt.3

Disclaimer: Anonymous sister entering the scene with another offering.

Description: In which the Blackwood Knight comforts his lady.

Part 1 Part 2

Warnings: I write Y/N as female because I wrote this for my sister, but please feel free to imagine them however you would like. I want everyone to feel included. I don't think there's anything else.

The young Blackwood heir did not encounter his lady again the next day, nor the next, though he waited for many an hour under the Brackentree, even as the darkness that began to sweep across the land seemed to reflect the sorrow growing in his own heart.  

Perhaps she was too frightened to return to their meeting point, he cursed himself. Worse, perhaps she feared him, associating him with the craven bannermen who had assailed her and who bore the colours of his own House. Fears that she would never consent to meet with him again, even if it were only to let him apologise on behalf of his House and for not being there in the first place to protect her, tormented him as the dawn rose on the third day of her absence from their haunt. He began to grow desperate: to hear her voice, her laugh, just to see her smile, or even chastise him. Sinking to the floor at the base of the tree, he held his head in his hands. So tortured by his thoughts was he that he failed to hear approaching footsteps making their way towards him, before finally stopping in front of him. Hearing the rustle of silk against silk as she stopped in front of his boots, he looked up incredulous to see the object of all his hopes and fears stood before him, looking down on him with a downcast, timid expression. Stumbling in his haste to rise from his seated position, he rose to meet her gaze.

Bending his head respectfully towards her, he half sighed, half stuttered, ‘my lady,’ she little knowing the true import of the term of address for him.  

“I feared you were unwell, or perhaps…afraid of the Blackwood lands, of bannermen…of me.” He winced once again at the painful thought.  

Wringing her hands, she met his gaze, to his surprise, almost apologetically, before answering.

“I am sorry to be the cause of such concern. Thank you for thinking of me. I must confess to being afraid,” she began, causing him to lower his head in dejection at the confirmation of his worst fears that her words held.

Seeing the sorrow on his face, she quickly continued, “I was afraid you would think me weak and silly for how I behaved when I encountered those men.” Looking in the opposite direction to avoid his gaze, once again, she seemed to be struggling to find the right words.  

“I was surprised by the event and acted in a manner unbecoming, and I am sorry for it. I won’t…impose on you again. I just came to wish you good bye and for the Light of the Seven to guide you.”

Beginning to turn from him, Y/N almost stumbled when a hand reached out to lightly hold her waist, arresting her motion. Her head snapping up in surprise, she met the resolute, yet soft gaze of Benjicot, before he began to speak.

“I thought you were afraid of me. That that was the reason for your absence. I nearly lost all restraint and considered storming Brackenhall to see you. I am relieved to hear that you are not afraid of me,” he began, as he took a step closer to her, his hand rising to tentatively hold the left side of her face, giving her time to reject the movement, should she wish.

When she did not move, or seem to dislike their proximity, he took another step closer so that they were standing chest to chest, his arm encircling her waist, whilst he held her head, preventing her from turning her gaze downwards.

“I never imagined that the reason for your absence could be that you were embarrassed, and I’m sorry for not thinking of it before. I greatly reproach myself for allowing you to feel that you acted in a manner that would warrant such a feeling.”

At this, she tried to turn her head away from him again, but he held her head gently, but firmly in place, preventing her from doing so.  

“You have no cause of embarrassment in your conduct. You were very brave, braver than I may have been had I been accosted in a like manner by a group of your bannermen,” he smirked, dimpling his cheek, causing her to smile just a little.

Encouraged by her reaction, and her seeming to relax in his arms, he continued:

“I only wish I had arrived earlier to prevent you from being accosted. Please believe me when I say that I will make it my purpose to ensure that you never come to such harm again. I offer you my sword and my blood in protection of yours.”

At this she smiled teasingly.

“Well, I don’t have any sword to speak of, but I will gladly accept the service of yours in my protection.”

His smile widening at her teasing tone, he stepped two paces back from her before drawing his sword and holding it before her in both hands, as he had done the second time they had met, when he had sworn his fealty to her as her knight.

“Would you like to try it,” he asked, restraining a laugh at her confused expression.

“I’m not sure…”

“I’m not suggesting you run me through, before you get any ideas” he winked, “but I can show you how to use it.”

Tentatively brushing the handle of the sword, before grasping it in her delicate hand, she attempted to raise it, somewhat hindered by the weight of it. Anticipating this, Benjicot turned her so that she was positioned in front of him, the sword raised lightly in her right hand, her grip becoming more steady as his own hand helped her to hold the weight. Reaching his left hand around her shoulder to secure it around the other side of the sword hilt, he raised the sword and her arm with his, in slow arcs through the air, demonstrating the first positions of swordsmanship he had learned as a young boy. Placing his head lightly on her shoulder, he stole a glance at her expression and was rejoiced to see a pink dusting her cheeks.

She spoke up in a quiet voice, almost in a whisper, "it would be nice to be able to wield a sword as you do, and not fear the world as much."

"You don't need to fear anything," He spoke lowly into her ear. "Not when you are with me to protect you."

He began to hope, if only briefly, that there may come a day, after all, when she would reciprocate what he now recognised to be his own love for her, and that she may consent to be his lady, as well as his Lady.

With this thought to bolster his courage, he removed the sword from her right hand, securing it in his before taking her right hand in his left and raising their arms above their heads. With her hand still raised aloft in his, he spun her towards him so she was, once again, enclosed within the circle of his arm, her dress brushing against his tunic.

Me randomly popping on to end my anonymous era and emerge from my Damon-esque murder cloak. I'm so glad that people are enjoying this story, thank you so much for all your replies, it's very kind. My sister and I were taken by the HOD twinks, as many were he he, and decided to write stories for the character the other liked. She's writing an absolute masterpiece of a story for my wee pretty Bracken boy. This story was meant for her, as she loves Benjicot, but I'm so pleased that others are enjoying it too. More to come :).

@lady-callisto @twistytimesandthoughts @abookloverlawyerfan-blog @mymoonempress

@lovebabe18 @poppyflower-22 @ithilwen-blackwood @spinachtz

[thephantomcasebook]

Where is my Aemond, "I will stand deathly close to massive dragon to protect my sweet sister" Targaryen on the show? Cause I think the writers lost him and can't find him!

I think people need to remember Condal and Hess were replaced by the showrunner of "The Crown" early in production.

Remember, Condal and Hess missed the deadlines for scripts ... twice. They also delayed production of Season 2 for months because they couldn't finish the scripts in a timely manner.

"Blood and Cheese" was given to Sara Hess and another female writer and they had to redraft 4 times because it was continuously sent back and it actually got worse and worse, till GRRM came in and rewrote from scratch the entire episode in the eleventh hour.

Warner went out of pocket to get a ghost showrunner to come in as a ringer and get production off the ground as well as edit the scripts while Condal and Hess fucked off for the writers strike.

The things you are seeing on screen are a jumble of Condal and Hess's ideas patch worked by someone who knows absolutely dick about ASoIaF or the characters beyond what he read in the show bible.

The reason the ghost showrunner is not credited is because he's not a part of the American Writer's Guild thus the studio is not obligated to put his name on screen. Also he was brought in as a fixer to get production back on track and to script doctor Condal and Hess's shit work on the scripts.

So, if characters like Aemond, Alicent, and Criston are not acting like you'd expect them to be or the way they were in Season 1, it's because they're being rewritten by someone who doesn't really know the characters or the book lore. They're being doctored by someone the studio paid to take over for incompetent producers.

The scenes with Otto, Aegon, and Criston and especially the fight between Rhaenyra and Daemon, along with the shot compositions of the flower peddles that Helaena sees along with the dust motes that Rhaenyra stares at. These are all artistic hallmarks and signatures of "The Crown". The ghost showrunner was brought in because of his experience writing royal family drama.

The reason the Greens are written the way they are is because the ghost showrunner is basing them off of the British Royal Family dynamics of the Royal House of Windsor. With politically and public relations minded patriarchs and cold detached matriarchs that don't know how to show love. Because, these are the main tenants of "The Crown" and the characters/historical figures in them that he wrote for years.

So the quality of acting is elevated because the ringer they got is really excellent at directing and writing character drama. But the lore and the characters are off, because, he doesn't know anything about the characters beyond what he's seen in Season 1 and read from Condal and Hess's rejected scripts and their show bible.

[balkanradfem]

I was trying to explain to my friend how all music from our country that is made by m*n is sexist, and was deconstructing the lyrics of some beloved, popular songs from the 90s. She told me I was the only person who would ever find fault in those songs, and acted like I was, in fact, a lunatic for dissecting every little thing to find offense in it. So I thought, you know what, I will bring this to my blog. Let the tumblrinas decide if I'm right.

So I will translate for you, some of our very beloved songs, in order to tell you what I think is wrong with them. If you're croatian, this will be funny, and you are allowed to correct my translation. I don't even hate these, they're incredibly catchy, but the lyrics are driving me insane.

Mary and Kate (youtube link) (1st verse) I thought the life was restaurants and dreams Friends, pretty women, for love to guide me And wherever I went, I didn't care I loved, never asked, through the world I drifted (chorus) Mary and Kate Where are they, to come back? My beautiful little Anne Who did you sleep with tonight? (2nd) I talked a lot, drank a lot, and laughed a lot I did this and that, everything, and always what I wanted And while I drifted, a crazy fool Pretty girls were all snatched by effortless cretins (chorus) (3rd) Where was I, what I was doing, who did I love? I was having fun, never lost my head I am still the same, I am the real one Real m*n goes, gives, never gets spoilt.

I no longer understand These young girls I am real for them They are not the real ones. I no longer understand What do they want? If only women were what they once were. (chorus) Mary and Kate Where are they, to come back? My beautiful little Anne Who did you sleep with tonight?

So you all can probably tell why this pisses me off, the chorus itself is giving me rage, but then the last bit just goes into full misogyny rant about women. It is obvious that this is a bullshit sicko man! He fancies himself as a 'vagabond' who just drifts around, drinks and has sex with women, and while he was young, it was working out for him and he could get young women to sleep with him, and then some time later, women obviously caught on onto the fact that he is a worthless drunk who doesn't do anything but party and bed women, incapable of being faithful or useful to anyone, and they've settled for males who, I would hope, are at least having a job and don't cheat or do alcohol all day. So as a response to that, he has to go and say 'wow women today are not real anymore, what do they want?? I am the real male obviously, m*n can never go bad, but all these women, they are unreal for not wanting me,' and then he proceeds to try and guilt trip MULTIPLE WOMEN AT ONCE for being on a location he doesn't know of, asking who they slept with! It's literally none of his business! He's literally not invested in any of these and will not contribute to their life in any manner except to give them a horrible time and to then proceed to look for his next victim, but they're being depicted as wrong and unreasonable. It's very obvious why no woman would look at him!

It makes me even more concerned that by the end of the song, he's no longer saying 'women', he's saying 'girls', indicating that now that he's older, he's interested in younger female demographic, but then also a verse later he had the GALL to call them 'not real women', if they're also not interested in him. In the end he even goes 'if only women were what they once were', by which he probably means, without any rights to reject him, without legal protection, only that way he could get whatever he would want from them.

My friend told me I'm supposed to just 'not listen to the lyrics' but m*n are listening to these lyrics! And agreeing! And if we're also acting uncritically, they're taking it as a sign that we also agree! A m*n wrote these!! It got mega popular!! And the song itself is so damn catchy it's been playing in my head all damn day. Someone needs to say something!!!!

The second one I want to criticize is considered one of the most beautiful, most romantic songs in our language, and I too will sing it sometimes because the imagery gets to me, but once I fully analyzed the lyrics I could see that something unsavory and messed up is going on in here and I am going to talk about it.

Empress (youtube link) (1st verse) Golden threads of the summer dawn came to her castle to wake up my love. Light shall kiss her face, beautiful as in an empress, while I can't kiss her. Golden net of her body has captured my soul only to throw it back into the sea. Every morning, before dawn I come to her castle, white castle of my penance. (chorus) All of my life, all I wanted was her. To find the way to her heart. All of my life, my body is without her Like flowers without water.

These are all of the lyrics, and on the first glance, it sounds beautiful, he's describing her as royalty, and without any derogatory terms as well, which is not common, thus the romantic notion. But. If you paid attention, there are clues that tell us that this woman is not even remotely interested in him, and he's depicting himself as this deeply pained, suffering man, and he's suffering because of her appearance.

He's depicting an image of a woman who is hidden from him, by a castle, and he can't get close to her – this is probably because she is unwilling to face him, or to come close to him, she's behind a wall for a reason. He even implies he's jealous of the light kissing her face, which is in the area of insane obsessed stalker, and when you read further on, he mentions he actually comes to her castle, BEFORE DAWN, which means she probably doesn't know he's doing it, he is in fact, stalking this woman. He describes her castle as a white castle where his punishment happens – he is punished by what? Her existing?

The only description of this woman we get is the perceived beauty of her, there's never any insight in who she is, anything she does or says that would imply interest, but he feels deeply victimized. 'Golden net of her body has captured my sol', he imagines that her appearance was a trap to capture him, by which we can assume the poor woman never even said anything to him, he just saw her and decided that she is responsible for his feeling, because he likes appearance and feels he should have her. And here also we can see that she doesn't want him, because she 'threw his soul back into the sea', meaning she did not show any interest in him. He goes on to cry about how his body is 'like flowers without water', implying he is withering at the foot of her castle, because she is not showing any interest in sleeping with him, oh the horrors.

This is clearly a stalker song! She probably never even spoke to this man and he doesn't seem to know anything about her, he never ever mentions anything except for her beauty, we don't know what this woman is like, or what she wants, this is not a love song! The only agency this woman is showing is that she's staying hidden in her castle PROBABLY FOR A GOOD REASON, and he keeps stalking her and claiming she's causing him pain. I would freaking move castles.

The only saving grace of this song is that I do hope he withers completely without ever getting a glimpse of her, and that she never even finds out, which I feel is the correct way for him to go, without bothering her.

These are not the only songs I find issue with, I am actually continually mad about many other songs but I will leave it at this for now. Thank you for coming to my music corner where we point things out.

[watch-that-writer-burnnn]

Would you care to dance, my dear?

Pairing: Jaskier x female reader

Summary: Jaskier has been invited to perform at a ball and has convinced the reader to attend with him, but she is uncomfortable - that is, until she sneaks into the garden for some air and Jaskier notices and joins her.

Words: 2.6K

Warnings: lots of fluff, reader implied to be female, close friends to lovers, lots of hugs and singing from the bard, mutual pining, reader has a lot of thoughts at the start but I promise there is heaps of soft bard fluff after!

A/n: So I was thinking about the lack of Jaskier fics with a demisexual reader, and came up with this. It certainly doesn't have to be read that way, but it was in the back of my mind when I was writing. The song lyrics are from Fair by The Amazing Devil, it's a beautiful song you should all go listen to. As always it's unedited, so apologies for errors. Hope you enjoy!

You hunched slightly in your seat as your surroundings continued to encroach on you. Loud chatter and laughter, the clinking of glasses, expensive shoes tapping against tiles, figures brushing past you on their way to the ballroom floor.

No one had asked you to dance yet, thank the gods. You were sure it had something to do with your miserable expression and the men's pants and doublet you wore, in stark contrast to the elaborate gowns and hairstyles of the other women in the room.

The night was only made more tolerable, of course, by your companion, Jaskier. An excellent bard, and your best friend, he'd asked you to accompany him to the party at which he'd been invited to perform. You were reluctant at first, preferring the quiet comfort of a tavern or a night under the stars, but he'd seemed so disappointed by your initial refusal, staring at you with those sad blue eyes until you finally caved. The clothing was another issue, as you owned nothing formal, hated dresses in fact, but he gladly lent you one of his simpler outfits, insisting you'd look wonderful in anything. You'd scoffed at his words, but were appreciative of his consideration for your comfort.

He danced about the room, strumming a playful tune on his lute, grinning from ear to ear as he winked at various party goers. You rolled your eyes, unable to help a smirk as you watched. Ever the performer, it wasn't only his music, but his whole manner that served to entertain the guests. He always looked beautiful in this setting, radiating happiness, thoroughly in his element. His blue doublet was open, the low cut shirt beneath revealing a smattering of hair on his chest, which heaved as he sung. His boyish fringe was swept across his face, which seemed almost sculpted, the golden glow of the many candles in the room accentuating his delicate features. Then there were his eyes. You loved his eyes, a mesmerising blue, always seeming to convey such an unbelievable level of meaning and emotion, drawing you in the longer you looked.

Noticing you staring his way, he gladly returned the smile you didn't realise you'd given him, his eyes seeming to light up even more upon meeting yours. You gave him an encouraging nod, and he grinned, launching into another song. At least he wouldn't feel guilty for dragging you along if you pretended to be enjoying yourself.

As the night dragged on, you found it harder to maintain your false appearance of positivity. You fiddled with the undoubtedly expensive food on your plate, unsure exactly of what it was and unwilling to find out. You had rejected a couple of young men who'd offered you dances, finding yourself as completely uninterested as usual, instead mumbling apologies and excuses about a sore leg. As the guests became louder, drunker, rowdier, you finally stood abruptly, in dire need of fresh air. You threw a final glance in the direction of the bard, who was currently preoccupied with entertaining a gaggle of young women with what was most likely some dramatic tale of dreamy lovers. He shouldn't notice if you stepped outside for a few minutes. Taking a deep breath, you wove your way towards the large double doors leading to the gardens beyond.

***

Taking deep breaths of fresh air, you wandered between rows of brightly coloured flowers, running your fingers through the petals as their sweet scents brushed across your nose. You manoeuvred between carefully trimmed hedges until you reached a low marbled bench, placed before an intricately carved fountain with mythical figures intertwined beneath the rippling water. Sitting down with a sigh, you ran your fingers through your messy hair, a nervous habit you'd never quite managed to shake. You didn't know why you were so averse to these kinds of gatherings. The people? The clothes? The food? Maybe it was just the atmosphere, the fake smiles, the superficial laughter, the whispered barbs whenever someone turned their back.

Or maybe you were just paranoid. Maybe all these people really were enjoying themselves. Maybe you should be too - you were, after all, invited as a guest, arriving with your dearest friend, a man for who many here would give a great deal in order to take your place at his side. Many of the women he'd thrown nonchalant winks and smiles at tonight would be jealous of a relationship which doesn't actually exist, like many others who'd assumed the pair of you to be lovers simply by observing your innate closeness. You'd never understand the way all those women could so quickly fall for him, for anyone, really. He'd often encouraged it, of course - less so now, you'd noticed, but certainly when you'd first met. He seemed to fall in love with everyone, and they always seemed immediately infatuated with him in return. While his reputation wasn't as extensive as he'd have people believe, he had a reputation nonetheless. Still, it was something you hadn't even considered when you'd first met, and Jaskier seemed just as glad of your friendship as he would have been had you sought something more.

Of course, you'd be lying if you said you hadn't grown to find him quite attractive, beautiful in spirit and appearance, with a kind, empathetic soul. You found your thoughts drifting, lulled into a daze by the soft trickle of water from the fountain and the distant chirping of night insects. You really loved him, that much you knew. He was your constant companion, your closest friend, your bard. But recently you couldn't help but find yourself wondering if he could be... not something more, that implied your friendship was of far less significance than it was, but... something different. Why now? You'd been friends for years. Why couldn't you have had these feelings and acted on them from the start? Or why couldn't they have just stayed away completely? You groaned, frustrated with your own thoughts, placing your head in your hands.

"Are you alright?"

You turned at the voice, which was deep, melodic, instantly recognisable, and laced with concern.

Jaskier stood uncertainly behind you, absentmindedly fiddling with the strap of his lute, pouting thoughtfully as he awaited your response.

"Oh I'm... I'm fine, Jask. Sorry, I didn't mean to distract you from your performance-"

"You've nothing to be sorry about, my dear," he insisted, moving to take a seat at your side, resting his lute carefully on the bench beside him. You sat in silence for a moment, the soft sounds of the night filling the air, before he spoke again.

"If anyone should be sorry, it's me. I know you hate these sorts of things, I..." He looked down, tugging at the frilly cuffs of his shirt. "It was selfish of me to drag you along."

"Don't be ridiculous, Jask. I agreed to come, didn't I? I liked the idea of spending the night with you," you felt your face redden at the poor choice of words, but chose to stumble forwards over your mistake, "I- it's a nice evening, and..." you reached down beside you, grasping one of his hands in your own. "... And I really am glad to be here with you."

He met your eyes as the corner of his mouth quirked up in a cheeky smile that slowly spread across his entire face. It was infectious, and you quickly found yourself beaming back.

"I'm happy to hear it, dear heart," he said, before shuffling closer, leaning in to rest his head on your shoulder. His fluffy hair, which shone a golden brown in the moonlight, brushed against your neck and chin, making you laugh as he squirmed about, trying to find a comfortable position.

"Are you going to wriggle around like that all night?" You teased. "Don't you have a performance you need to get back to?"

"Everything I need is right here," he murmured against your neck, voice far more gravelly than you'd expected, his hot breath sending goosebumps across your skin. That was... That was new. You hesitated a second, before leaning back against him, the warmth of his partially exposed chest pressing into your shoulder as you rested your head against his.

"Can we just... Stay like this a while?" He breathed, eyes fluttering shut.

"Of course," you murmured back, closing your own eyes.

You enjoyed each other's silent company and the warmth of your bodies pressed together as the moon crept higher in the sky. Absentmindedly, you fiddled with his fingers, lacing them between your own. Reaching up with your other hand, you ran your fingers through his hair, drawing what sounded almost like a low moan from the bard, which was quickly interrupted by a cough as he stood abruptly.

"What's wrong?" You asked, staring up at him, causing your breath to hitch in your throat. Gods, you didn't know how he could have looked any more beautiful than before, but he did. The night cast shadows across his pale skin, accentuating his delicately sculpted features with a soft blue glow. His eyes seemed to burn with energy as they stared back into your own, and you noticed a deep red glowing through parts of his ruffled hair in the light of the moon. His doublet was crumpled from where he'd leant against you, and the low cut shirt beneath was pulled far to one side, revealing a teasingly large amount of his chest. You forced yourself to tear your eyes away as he responded.

"Oh, it's... It's nothing. I... Do you... That is..." He stopped for a second, composing himself, before his face lit up, seeming to have thought of something. An embarrassed smile broke through his features as he walked up to you, placing one hand behind his back and outstretching the other towards you.

"Would you care to dance, my dear?"

Heart pounding in your chest, you smiled, before reaching up to take his hand.

"I- I would love to, my sweet bard."

He let out a nervous laugh of relief at your response, stepping back as you rose from your seat, eyes locked on each other. His fingers, calloused from years of music, tenderly grasped your own, before his hands slid down your sides to find purchase at your waist, while you placed your arms either side of his head. You held your breath, the contact making you shiver, your heart fluttering in your chest.

What is wrong with me? It's not like this is the first time we've been this close. We've shared a horse, a bed, even danced together a couple of times at village fairs. Why should this be any different?

Too preoccupied with his own thoughts to notice your lack of composure, Jaskier confidently led you around the small patch of ground hidden between hedges, your own natural dance floor, with the sighing wind, bubbling water and singing crickets providing the music. He absentmindedly bit his lip as his mind swirled, heart thumping just as fast as yours.

Why am I doing this? Of course we're close, we always have been, but this is different and I know it. I'm an idiot, a hopeful idiot. She's never been interested in me, and, as much as it wounds me, I promised myself to never let my feelings get in the way of our friendship. Promised to never tell her just how deeply in love with her I am.

Jaskier pushed his troubled thoughts aside. He wanted to enjoy this moment, and wanted you to as well. Besides, maybe he could find out, once and for all, how you truly felt about him. Or at least, ease his aching heart by finally revealing his own feelings, regardless of your response.

Taking a deep breath, steadying his trembling body, he slowly leant towards you, until his lips barely brushed your ear. A pleasant warmth shot through your stomach at his unexpected touch, and you closed your eyes with a hum of contentment, welcoming his body as your arms pulled him closer.

Softly, he began to sing as the pair of you continued to sway in the moonlight, words raw and full of pure, unbridled emotion as he murmured them into your ear.

"It's what my heart just yearns to say, in ways that can't be said..."

You tightened your grip, clinging to him in silent awe as he continued the song, each new lyric causing heat to rise to your skin in the cool night air.

"Oh, how, oh, how unreasonably in love I am with everything you do, I'll spend my days so close to you, 'cause if I'm standing here, maybe everyone will think I'm alright."

You'd stopped moving now, not daring to pull away, confused by the tide of emotions flooding your mind. What was this song? You'd never heard it before, but it seemed to come straight from the heart. Was it possible...

"It's not fair, it's not fair how much I love you"

At these words, something clicked. You kicked yourself for not realising sooner. How could you be so blind? Forget your own emotions, you knew you hadn't always been in love with Jaskier. But him? He'd been infatuated with you from the start. Yet he'd kept quiet about his feelings, until he knew they were reciprocated. Your poor, kind, beautiful bard.

You closed what little distance was left between you two, burying your head into his chest. His voice trailed off as he gently slid his hands further around your waist, returning the embrace. He gave a deep sigh, hugging you as though he never wanted to let you go, nestling his head against your neck.

Eventually, you felt his lips brush your jaw as you pulled back just enough to meet his gaze, shining eyes filled with adoration, an expression of deep satisfaction resting on his face.

"That was... That was..." He breathed, fingers gently trailing across your back.

"It was beautiful," you finished, fingers twirling the fluffy brown curls at the back of his neck.

"I'm glad you liked it," he said softly, a half smile pulling at the corner of his mouth, as his eyes flitted across your features, eventually dropping to your lips.

"This feels too good to be true..." He mumbled, closing his eyes as he gently brought his lips forward to brush yours.

"Yet here we are," you whispered against his mouth, before finally pressing your lips into his own with a sigh.

He kissed you carefully, deliberately, the heat of your bodies pressed so close together serving only to fuel the motion. You slid your hands up the back of his shirt and he moaned into your mouth, sending another wave of warmth through your body. You allowed him to deepen the kiss, his tongue lapping and darting into your mouth as he made a series of small, pleasured noises, whimpering and gasping as you continued playing with his hair.

When you finally seperated, you were both breathing heavily, hearts pounding. Jaskier's appearance made you weak, as you examined his lust darkened eyes, the soft blush creeping across his cheeks, and his puffy, crimson lips. He looked so ruffled, like a startled baby animal, that you couldn't help but giggle. You moved to rest your forehead against him, his eyelashes briefly kissing your cheek as he moved to wrap his arms around your waist.

"I love you, Jaskier," you said, running your thumb across his cheek, causing him to hum softly at the touch. You hesitated, grinning, before adding, "thanks for waiting for me."

"Of course, dear heart," he said, cheeky smile once again tugging at the corner of his mouth, before adding more seriously, "You're more important to me than you could ever know."

"I think I have some idea," you smirked, grabbing him by his shirt collar and pulling his lips into your smile.

[icey--stars]

Stories To Be Told: PART 25

Series Index

A shadowsinger, a warrior, an Illyrian, that's what she was. Trained by one of the most formidable female warriors. Escaped the Illyrian camps and her clipping when she was barely sixteen and is now the holder of 6 siphons. What happens when she tries to sneak into the City of Starlight? And starts down a whole new road of chaos?

a/n: am i the biggest tease of all time? yes. apologies for making y/n less of a ‘reader’ character and more into an oc. just kinda goin with it now, cus im writing the story lol

WARNING: alcohol use (y/n is drunk off her ass), sexual themes (more mentions than anything else, and suggestive as hell)

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Then I kissed him.

Just like before, Azriel’s lips against mine felt like lightning. They were soft and pliant against mine. Azriel pressed back without hesitation, but I could tell he was a bit apprehensive. Why? I didn’t know, but my mate wasn’t rejecting me, so…

He pushed me up and gently away, scanning my face rapidly. “Angel, what do you think you’re doing?”

I smirked. “Kissing the most amazing person in this world~”

He scoffed. “You’re so drunk. Are you even going to remember this?”

“Maybe, maybe not,” I chuckled. “Now let me go you idiot,” I ordered, pulling his arm off my collarbone where it’d settled to keep me away and then I pushed forward to kiss him again.

I groaned, delighted when he reciprocated, licking my bottom lip. He did it again, and then leaned forward more to gently nip at my lip, causing a wild gasp to escape me. Immediately, he surged forward and crushed his lips to mine, tongue diving inside to rub against mine, and explore my mouth.

He groaned and then yanked himself away. “No,” he growled. “You’re drunk. I’m not doing anything with you drunk.”

“I want to though,” I whined, trying to capture his lips again. It’d felt so good to have his tongue against mine-

“Baby…” he purred, and moved to brace my head against his chest instead of being eye level with me. “We talk about this in the morning, but I don’t feel as if you’re in a state where you can consent to anything.”

I whined. I just wanted to kiss him, and maybe do a little more… Did he not want me? Was that it? My mate didn’t want me?

“Do you- do you not want me?” I stuttered.

He let out a sigh. “Baby, of course I want you. I want everything about you. You’re so fucking beautiful that I wish you weren’t drunk right now. But you are, and under a spell from that bastard I should’ve protected you from-”

“He’s an ass,” I giggled.

Az scoffed, the air from it stirring up the hair on my head. “I promise we can talk about this in the morning, alright?”

I sighed, nodding. A moment of silence went by.

“My head hurts,” I whined, feeling the killer headache coming on already, in addition to stomach pains. “And my tummy.”

“Do you need to throw up?” He asked, scratching at my head again in a comforting manner.

I shook my head, instead snuggling closer. “I’m okay.”

“I’m going to get you another glass of water just in case,” he hummed. “I’ll be right back.”

Then my warm pillow disappeared. I whined, reaching out for him as he got up to grab a refilled glass on my bedside table. The House, apparently, was also worried. I groaned, sitting up, head swimming as I gulped down that next water until Azriel, satisfied, set it back on the table.

He settled right back into his previous position, pulling me close and then, ever so gently, kissed the crown of my head. I hummed happily, snuggling closer. A dark, extra blanket settled over top of me, and from the feeling of it against my wings–it was Azriel’s wing. He laid it over top of us, curling it around the back of mine to provide maximum warmth.

“Sleep,” he ordered.

“I still don’t want to,” I complained, but settled into the gentle embrace anyway.

“Y/N,” He yawned. “Sleep baby. I’ve got you.”

I yawned, the thing completely involuntary. Yawns were contagious in the worst of ways. “Whyyyyyy~” I whined.

“I swear,” Azriel chuckled. “You are the worst kind of drunk. Sleep.”

“No you,” I laughed, grinning wide. “I bet you’re an affectionate drunk aren’t you?”

“That’s Cassian,” Azriel pointed out.

“Then how do you act?” I asked cheekily.

“According to Rhys, I get very… impulsive.”

“Mmmm,” I hummed, smiling. “I wanna see you impulsive now.”

“Maybe one day, now sleep,” He insisted.

“I don’t wannaaaaa,” I whined.

“Why don’t you want to?” He asked.

“Because going to sleep means seeing him again,” I responded.

Azriel’s hand stopped scratching my head, so I leaned into it more, making him start back up again. “Baby…” he hummed sadly. “He can’t get you, I promise. I’ve got you right here in my arms. Right under my wing and up to my chest. If you have a nightmare, I’ll still be here.”

“I still don’t want to,” I stated, pouting petulantly into his clothed chest.

“Sleep,” he urged. “I’ve got you. You’re safe. Completely safe in my arms.”

A sudden spark of emotion startled me, causing tears to come to my eyes. “I’ve never been safe,” I whispered. It was true, though. Except for those bare moments I’ve had with Azriel, nothing had ever felt completely safe.

“You are now,” he assured. “Whenever you’re with me, you are safe. Completely safe. I will protect you. I will love you, I promise. Sleep baby, I’ve got you all in my arms now. All bundled up and safe under my wing.”

I yawned, wiping my eyes on his shirt before settling again. “Okay,” I whispered.

There was a strong rush of emotion coming from the bond then, just a spark of a wild concoction of emotions. Sadness, mourning, regret, anger. Then it morphed into comfort. A surge of comfort that sent me humming contently and nestling just a bit closer to Azriel before letting my body relax at last. He continued whispering little things. Little phrases like “You’re safe baby” or “I’ve got you” that kept me feeling warm, secure and comforted in his arms. Sleep found me quickly.

-----

That morning, I felt like dying. I might as well be dying to be completely honest. My head was pounding with each beat of my heart, and I felt exhausted, in addition to some nausea. As I groaned my way into the waking world, I quickly decided that I was never getting drunk again. Hell to the fuck no.

I blinked open my eyes, startled to find the texture of a wing above me, blocking out the light, but my own wings were behind me-

Azriel was beside me. I settled a bit, feeling his arms around me and sighing in content.

Az shifted behind me, wiggling a bit and pulling harder at me so I was closer. I awed at the fact he was unconsciously pulling me closer to cuddle. It was adorable. 

“Love…” I hummed. My throat felt dry, I noticed with a bit of discontent.

Azriel moved again, yawning as he stretched out a bit. His wing retreated from his position across me, folding against his back to reveal the morning sunlight coming through the window. “Good morning angel,” he hummed, voice rough from disuse. “Feel alright?”

“My head hurts,” I admitted. “What happened?”

“Rita’s ended up being a bit more than we bargained for,” he explained. He told me the story, and I winced at the parts I could recall. Most of it, I couldn’t. I did recall kissing Azriel (which I noticed he didn’t mention), and some asshole named Aaron, but that was about it.

“Do you feel… suggestive?” Azriel asked carefully. “Aaron had an ability…”

I yawned, shaking my head. “Not really. I think I’m alright besides this killer hangover.”

He nodded, sitting up more. There was a subtle thunk on the bedside table and Azriel scoffed, reaching over. I sat up, seeing the glass of water. “House,” I said aloud. “Stop being concerned, I’m fine.”

There was a clunk of another glass of water in reply. I scoffed, smiling. “Fine, be concerned then.”

Azriel handed me one of the waters, watching me drink it until it was empty, before setting it down. It disappeared after a few moments. I laid back on my pillows again with a groan, wincing as I accidentally crushed one of my own wings.

“Do you remember anything else about last night?” He asked carefully, laying down beside me as I resettled with my wings laying more comfortably. I leaned into him with a happy hum.

“I do,” I chuckled, smirking. “I believe that I kissed you.”

He hummed, a small smile appearing on his face. “And do you regret it?”

I scoffed. “Did you just ask if I regret kissing the most amazing person in this whole world?”

“Yes?” He replied in a questioning tone.

I rolled my eyes and rolled over more, planting a quick peck on his lips so fast that he couldn’t even react before I pulled away and laid back down. “No,” I answered, cheekily grinning at his shocked expression. “However,” I began.

He jerked his head to look at me with renewed attention.

I lifted a brow. “Nothing bad,” I assured. “I uhm, just have very little experience when it comes to anything past kissing. Figured you should know that.”

His brows perked upwards for a moment before he smiled gently. “Don’t worry angel. I’ll be gentle.”

My face lit up like a bonfire immediately.

“Does that mean you’d like to accept the bond completely?” Azriel asked, reaching over to scratch at my scalp. “If you’d rather wait, I understand.”

I hummed, leaning into his hand before replying. “I think I’d like to wait for just a little, but yes, Azriel. I trust you.”

He smirked, leaning over to kiss me, only getting as far as dipping his tongue in my mouth before pulling away, leaving me completely breathless. “Do you pleasure yourself?”

I shot him a shocked look. The kiss and then that question? Holy fuck. I might just explode. “I’m-” I hesitated. Then I sighed. “I’m not really good at it.”

A corner of Azriel’s mouth tipped upwards. “Alright angel,” he hummed. “I’ll teach you then.”

I tried not to betray a reaction, but fuck, if that wasn’t the hottest thing I’d heard. Or read. The book characters could only be so good.

“I know how it works,” I burst out, feeling anxious. “I uh- I read some things.”

His smirk widened. “Oh baby, what kind of things?”

“You know exactly what things,” I growled, poking him in his stomach, grinning in victory as his torso contorted as he jerked from the forceful poke. “Don’t act like you don’t know spymaster.”

“Hmm,” he hummed. “Tell me what things you find interesting in these things.”

“Are you trying to make me share my kinks with you?” I deadpanned.

He scoffed, chuckling a bit in amusement. “Perhaps I just want to make sure your first experience is as good as possible. Impress you, you know? Now, tell me.”

I groaned, flopping my head onto his shoulder while blushing bright red. “Noooo,” I whined. “Never.” I poked him again, grinning as he let out a small burst of laughter from it. It seems I might’ve found one of my mate’s ticklish spots. I immediately wiggled my fingers over the spot on his stomach, reveling in his answering wheezing. He moved his hand to grab my wrist tightly.

“Stop,” he gasped for air. “I’m not ready for tickling this early.”

“Die then,” I growled, and leaped up on top of him, freeing my hands and straddling his thighs so that I could lean down, raise his shirt up and blow on his tummy.

He gasped and immediately was cackling as I continued my tickle attack. I moved a hand up under the side of his shirt, finding another ticklish spot right below his armpit on his torso. Desperately, he grasped at both my wrists again, panting heavily. “Baby stop,” he whined as I blew on his stomach again. “I can’t breathe-”

I grinned, sitting up finally. “Too much for my big bad mate?”

“You’ll pay for that,” he growled, sitting up more to reach around my back and hold me to his torso. “Now stop avoiding the question.”

“What question?” I asked innocently, still grinning.

“Tell me what you want me to do to you when I have you under me,” He ordered, his breath blowing into my ear sensually. “Tell me everything you want to try in those filthy books you read.”

“Or what?” I challenged.

“Or I might very well trail my hands up and make you,” He threatened, hands moving an inch up my torso, toward the base of my wings. My breathing hitched at the thought of him running his hands down the membrane.

“Tell me sweet girl,” he whispered.

I gave in so fucking fast. I couldn’t help it. I told him about a few scenes of characters in books, mentioning specific things that I might enjoy. He didn’t reply, just rubbed absentmindedly on my lower back. When he tipped his hands up under my shirt, I stuttered so bad that he just laughed. I gave him the glare of the century.

“Oh baby, do you not like it?” He teased me. “I can always stop…” he began removing his hands.

“No!” I cried out suddenly, gripping him harder and squeezing my thighs together around his. “Don’t stop,” I amended quickly, embarrassed by my reaction.

Azriel smirked and leaned his head into the nook between my shoulder and neck. “Tell me more,” he ordered, his hands going higher.

“Where was I?” I asked, trying to focus.

“I believe the man was just about to start eating her out,” Azriel said, breath brushing against my neck.

I blushed. Fuck, it sounded like a promise in Azriel’s voice. “Yeah-” I continued the story, trying to not get distracted- but just as I mentioned the man biting the woman’s neck, in a way that made her scream, Azriel licked up the side of my neck.

I choked on my next breath, unable to continue breathing.

“Keep going,” Azriel whispered against my skin, planting a gentle kiss on the side of my neck. “Did he fuck her yet?”

“No,” I croaked out, laying more limply against Azriel’s shoulder, trying to look around the room to distract myself from the gentle kisses Azriel continued to plant on my neck. “He kept edging her until she couldn’t see straight. Then he fucked her.”

“Mmm…” Azriel hummed, sending shivers down my spine. “Do you find that entire scene attractive?”

I swallowed before nodding against his shoulder.

“Which part is your favorite, baby?”

I gasped as he gently nipped at the side of my neck, feeling arousal spike in the air. Fuck, if Azriel didn’t stop, I was about to say fuck it to waiting. He paused, smirking into a kiss he planted right over the sharp pain. “I don’t know,” I admitted, burying my face into his shoulder, muffling my next response. “All of it.” It was an answer to me, myself, and I, and yet, Azriel seemed to hear it.

“Mmm,” he hummed. “I heard that angel.”

“Shut up,” I whined.

“Don’t be embarrassed, sweet girl. I love knowing what you like.”

I whined uselessly into his shoulder, not sure how to respond, not sure if I could respond. 

“Let’s go to training,” Azriel suggested. I pulled back just barely fast enough to see his smirk. So we dressed in our leathers… and went to training.

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TAGLIST (see post for getting added)

@mis-lil-red, @bunnymallowo, @judig92, @biblophilefox82, @azzydaddy, @thegirlintheshadows101, @whatupmydudes01, @feyres-fireheart, @elizarikaallen, @xenlynn, @panzees-bizarre-adventures, @starswholistenanddreamsanswered, @baebeepeach, @nyctophiliiiiaaa, @brekkershadowsinger, @officiallyunofficialperson, @bookslut420, @margssstuff, @bluephoenix908, @goldentournesol, @rebloggiest-reblogger, @inpraizeof, @ladylokilaufeyson5, @graciereads, @chanaaaannel, @towhateverend13,

When your name has strikethrough added to it, I cannot tag you. If you haven't reblogged on tumblr yet, start there? That's about all I know. But either way, Tumblr won't let me tag you. I might mention I can't ping you in a comment or something, but otherwise, I don't let you know.

[theycallmebecca]

Drabble: What You Want

This week is the final week for @the-slumberparty and that means it's time to wrap up my Andy Barber "Want" series. I was struggling to make this fit the AU prompt... but then I realized the whole series is pretty much AU (I only write Andy AU's)... but also if I made him a college professor... that would be the new element.. so that's how I made this all work.

If you haven't read the first two parts of this, here are the links: What Women Want, What Andy Wants.

Title: What You Want

Pairing: Andy Barber x female reader

Rating: PG

Warnings: n/a

Disclaimer: This work of fiction is not to be reposted, used or translated without my permission.

Usage Disclaimer: This work is for fans only. This author does not give permission for it to be shared, spoken of, referred to in any public manner (podcast, tv, online, etc.) that wants to either make a celebrity uncomfortable, mock fan fiction/fandom in any way, or the author themselves. Requests can be made, but it is unlikely the author will change their mind. If no response is given to a request then the answer is a solid no, not interested and the work cannot be shared, spoken of or even referred to, regardless of the manner or context. 

The first hockey night after you find out Andy wants you is awkward.

You want to tell him you know, but you promised your other best friend you wouldn’t say anything.

Unfortunately, Andy doesn’t say anything either.

You’re so hyper aware of every movement he makes that you don’t even remember who the two teams playing even are. And it’s almost a relief when the game ends and Andy goes home.

It takes you another two days to decide that you’ve been quiet for too long for fear that he’ll reject you and your friendship will end because of it. But knowing he has feelings too gives you an extra boost of courage.

One call to the secretary for his department at the university provides you with his office hours and you plan from there, taking the afternoon off from work.

Armed with a poster board that says “Do You Like Me?” with yes and no written below with check boxes next to them, you position yourself in the green space below his office window.

You stand there alone for about ten minutes before people start to notice you, just like you hoped. You keep your eyes focused on his office window, hoping someone will say something.

After what seems like forever, Andy finally appears in his window to see what the commotion is all about. His expression goes from curious to recognition then he disappears from the window.

Pulling your eyes from the window to the door of the building, you wait for him to appear, suddenly very aware of the crowd that has gathered to see what’s going on.

Then Andy strides out of the building, a huge grin spread across his face and a bright red sharpie in his hand.

You block out the gasping crowd as Andy draws a giant check mark in the yes box. Then he takes away the poster, dropping it to the ground before he kisses you.

[immoonprincess]

Evillious/Touhou OC: Lust

Time to show my Main OC

~Technical Information~ Name: Lust Romaji: kyu-jū roku no Rustsuto Other Name: Otomachi Una (Idol Name), Lust the 96th, Subject 96 (Birth Name), the Creature, the Lizard Youkai, Youkai of Lust Vocaloid: Otomachi Una

~Biographical Information~ July 30th, EC 1493 Age: 14 (which in his species, would be ancient but Lust behaving like a Young adult) Classification: Mutated Lizard (with tons of DNA cramped up into one creature including Youkai and Lunarian) Gender: Male in Lizard form and female in Humanoid form Sexual Orientation: Bisexual Hair Color: Light Purple (in Normal form) and Blue (In Humanoid form) Eye Color: Green (in Normal form) and Blue (in Humanoid form) Affiliation(s): Northern Maistia, Gensokyo

Lust born Subject 96th has been experimented on since He was hatched to the point that His body can no longer reject any creature's DNA until a Miracle happened, where He broke out of the tank due to the Robotic Figure and escaped to Toxic Disposal which is where He got accidentally impaled by Venom Sword and being around radioactive around him causing him to mutant even further

Later on, He was raised and trained by Cryptid Trios to become their Ally and inject more DNA into him (specifically Turtle to slow down Aging, Chimps for Sociality, and Dolphins to boost Hedonism) but They avoided giving him Human DNA as it can make him Hesitation. They have given his codename "Lust"

Once They're finished training him, New Sinners went on raiding Heavenly Yard and failed. Lust punishment is getting sent to the world where every Woman there can kick his ass which is Gensokyo

Once He was sent there, he struggled to survive for the first few weeks but He was eventually able to adapt and finally gain Human DNA which caused Lust to grow hair and be able to talk in Human Language

Later on, Lust got taken into Eientei so He could be studied by the Lunarian there, a year later, Lust got sent to the Lunar Capital as a Messager while He fought one of the princess there in the usual Touhou manner, He was able to inject Lunarian DNA but Lunarian Blood is so Pure, It's completely turn him into a young female humanoid

A few days later after getting sent back to Gensokyo, Lust realized why it had been so weak for the past year as it had almost no sin power at all and it couldn't attract anybody in either form as He/She either too hideous or too young

this gives Lust the idea when He/She sees the Prismriver sisters performance that it can gain fans who will love and worship her in humanoid form (basically simping but not in a sexual way, it's in the cute way)

After another year of Performance, Lust got sent back to her homeworld where he along with other New Sinners continued what they left off but now stronger and smarter than ever

Lust gets into a fight with Kayo Sudou where He terrorizes Jakoku and They both fight to the death with Mutual Kills

Later on Sloth (who has no soul) gets sent to Hellish Yard to get Lust and Wrath's souls back

After the War ended, the Trios gave other Sinners a choice to either stay with them and face their consequences or leave for their punishment turned new homeworld, Lust chose Latter

but When Lust got sent back, He realized this isn't his Gensokyo as He saw a young girl with a book that could summon all the people that he had met and reskins of them

this drove Lust to jealousy and hated that young girl able to get everyone to love her while He took years to struggle to even ally with one of them so a new Conflict begins

Trivia: - Lust shared the same birthday as her Vocaloid representation - I have been avoiding doing anything related to Venomania such as building Harem - Lust never had sexualized her Idol Persona - Lust has been inspired by Hoshino Ai from Oshi no Ko who is Idol who lies and somewhat manipulative about loving her fans but with fewer redeem Qualities than Ai did - Lust has 3 variations like Vocaloid counterpart, Sugar being casual, Spicy when performing and Talk EX is in between Lizard and Humanoid (completed with Scales, stilt eyes, and tail)

[alarrytale]

Hi Marte! I have a question. How do you differentiate between a closeted queer person doing PR and a straight person doing PR? If I was to use Harry as an example. I think he is closeted and gay but my opinion is mostly based off consistency and patterns since X Factor and 1D rather than him acting flamboyant. We saw him openly talk about his attraction to men before 1DHQ worked with the media to give him a womanizer image. We saw the womanizer image unfold. We see his pr relationships being set up and we can roughly predict what will happen, when it will end, what it is in connection to etc. If I was a new fan I don't think I'd be so sure. Him wearing female clothes and displaying some feminine traits can be put down to him being comfortable in his sexuality as a straight man and wanting to experiment with fashion. Straight men can dress and act flamboyant. Straight celebrities have pr relationships, they push their heterosexuality to sell projects, they might engage in fake relationships because they want to maintain a private life etc. So I'm wondering how would you personally differentiate? I see so many pr relationships happening and I jump to thinking that the celebrities are closeted and have to remind myself that not every person is queer lmao and some real relationships are also used for pr. All I can think is to go by how they act around both sexes. We see that Harry has chemistry with men but lacks it with women. We see that he gravitates towards men and that he's more comfortable around them. That he often looks uncomfortable and awkward around women when he is performing heterosexuality. If it's female friends it's different. It might be harder to tell with HW actors because obviously they play pretend for a living so they can probably perform heterosexuality in public more convincingly. But then I think about J*ke Gyllenh**l and he's a great versatile actor but I've never seen him publicly perform heterosexuality in a convincing way lmao, nothing will convince me that he's straight.

Hi, anon!

This is such a great question! I guess if you were to observe Harry now, without context, without knowing his fandom, what Harry's said and done in the past, or the rumours about him being gay and with Louis, you'd have a hard time differentiating between performative heterosexuality for promo only and performative heterosexuality for promo and closeting purposes.

I agree you'd have little to go on but observing his chemistry with men vs women (but that would be hard to do if he was bi/pan), but also queercoding and of course stereotypes and gaydar. Yes, straight men can dress and act feminine and flamboyant, but it's also very much used as an outlet and queercoding for closeted men. You say that you need to remind yourself that not every person is queer. You are right, but in the business were talking about here there is a much higher rate of queers than in the rest of society. There are more queer celebrities than we know of. They're also more likely to have reasons to hide it than in the rest of society in order to further their career (in the modern western world at least). So if you pick up verbal and non verbal clues, mannerisms and put it together with rejection of traditional gender roles and his occupation and the knowledge of closeting in the industry one should be able to figure it out (at least suspect) without knowing anything else about him.

[konohamaru-sensei]

Ranger Reject!!! Please, I desire this knowledge!

My file started for everything Ranger Reject with Sayuri in there. Have many thoughts, but only wrote down a little angsty stuff so far.

In this AU Sayuri is a sort of delinquent, but since she lives in the slums she doesn't really have a choice, but to fight her way through to survive. When she meets Sousei she doesn't know who he is since shes been raised without a TV present (no money). They have a very biting relationship plus they really revel in beating other people up. Genuinly makes them hot.

Ok, I know Q probablly doesn't care, but for others passing by there are legti major plot spoilers hinted at under this cut so if you wanna read Ranger Reject / Go go loser ranger with pure eyes you should not check (and I recommend you do, because its awesome)

so explaination: for one reason or another sousei has only a bit of his memories, i dont wanna spoil the real big twist here but he did have amnesia for a bit. ill say nothing else.

_ “Should I cut your hair? You barely can see out of your eyes now.” She offers it in a tone of generosity, as if he should be thankful that she would think about the possibility of helping him for something.

Sousei pinches his nose. His hair does hang annoyingly into his face and he can’t remember it having ever been this long. But then again, he doesn’t remember much of his life anyway. “No,” he says, not  because he doesn’t want her to do it, but because he doesn’t want to give her the satisfaction of wanting her to do it. 

Theirs is a relationship of small wins and if she’d cut his hair, it would be her win and no way he’d let that happen.

“Fine, then enjoy not seeing anything”, Sayuri throws herself down next to him. The loud noise is probably audible in the room below them. 

Her manners are so bad, he wrinkles his nose. She knows that making noise on the roof of this very small, shabby house would be audible inside and that the others are sleeping and yet she still does it.

“Guess your parents never raised you right”, he finishes his thought out loud and almost laughs when he sees the black eyed stare that she gives him in reply. He counts it as his win that he made her mad.

“You know my brother raised me,” she grumbles. 

Of course he knows. Still, it’s always fun to see the way she frowns when he makes her say it out loud. Maybe it’s a little cruel, but when Sousei was young he was told you have to tease what you like, so he is half sure it’s ok.

The stars are visible from the slums, even with the lights of the city in the back. Sousei wonders about the impostor that acts on his behalf and how much he would love to sleep in a bigger bed, with more pleasant companions, preferably female, right now. But he can’t even really remember living in the city, not in the way it looks like anyway.

Then his eyes wander to Sayuri. “A keeper killed him right? Your brother?” He asks though he knows the answer.

She sighs. “Yes. I’ve told you that 10 times.” She has. They dragged her brother away from her in the early days of the invasion. They needed him for something, they had said and when he refused to leave her alone they hit him, hard. Sayuri had only been around 10 back then.

Sousei takes his eyes away from her. “Do you know which colour it was?”

“Red.”

He breathes out deeply. 

That could spell problems in the future.

“Why?” Sayuri asks and as he turns his face he realises she is only a few inches away from him. That makes him feel a little fuzzy, but he finds his personality again.

“I heard he is the most handsome,” he grins. “All the girls want him.”

Sayuri’s face sours and she moves backwards again and though he’d wanted her to give him more space, now part of him wishes she’d come back.

“I don’t know how he looks like,” she grinds her teeth together. “He is some kind of celebrity in the city, I am told, but I have never been there to see him.”

Sousei leans fully back on the tiles of the roof, the hair tickling on his nose. 

Lucky.

[seekinginnerwisdom]

I am an older female INFP and I first took the test as a teen and have consistently gotten the same results, regardless of website or version of test. And I was always kinda secretly proud to be one because my mom was struggling with my teen sister's bipolar/hormone powered rage and my dad, I think, was one of us too. He was a reserved, weird, sweet, unfocused mess who avoided conflict unless drafted (little war humor, get it from my dad). So I became my mom's confidant which made me feel helpful and special at the time but i now know probably wasnt "healthy".

Fast forward to now and I've earned a number of invisible "survivor of *insert trauma*" medals for myself. And just recently earned myself a small one for "surviving break up with first boyfriend after divorce" Its doesnt have a catchy title and I dont know how I they fit all the words on such a small surface but I'm proud of my small accomplishment. 13 years married, 6 years single, 2.5 years with him...alone again.

Shouldn't I be devastated longer than a week? He did it really poorly, too. Asked for a break a week before which took me by surprise, then 4 days later he told me he loved me and didnt want to break up but still needed time to figure things out, a few days later and its I want to be your friend but nothing more.

It was a back and forth conversation and he's telling me he's not attracted to me anymore and quickly adds "it's not because of the weight" (to clarify I have been struggling with my stomach and have lost 40 lbs which sounds great, unless you weren't overweight before and now I look like a skeleton). When he said that I couldn't help but laugh in that hurt way, where its brevity and pain mixed with a scoff (just me?) And not expecting a reply I rolled my eyes away from him and ask "so it's just me as a person" and there wasnt much hesitation before I hear a soft but steady "yes" behind me. As you can imagine, I didnt respond well to having my entire existence be rejected so i did something he had never seen me do. I yelled at him and kicked him out of my car. Then I tried to go back to work. Yup, he broke up with me in the middle of the work day. I'm sorry this is so long and I even skipped parts.

I left early and took a pill or two more than recommended and just ran away from consciousness as fast as modern medicine could get me there. (I dont post much so I dont know if I need to worry about responses but I took low doses of anti anxiety meds that wouldnt harm me unless i consume the whole bottle. I took 1 mg more than normal. Dont attack me). I got him to be more specific in his choice of break up methods the next week after texting to let him know I wrote a 7 page goodbye letter and how he has come out of this looking like a psychopath.

Is it an INFP thing? When someone hurts me or angers me and I'm trying to speak it's a lot of ums or long pauses. But hand me a pen or a keyboard and fill me will righteous rage...you cant stop me. If I know anything at all about you then you will receive a paragraph like you are reading right now filled with oddly observational criticism, I will hit upon at least one thing your sensitive about and end it all with a guilt trip so strong only the Catholically trained can weather it well.

I think he was afraid of the letter because he had been receiving the texts but not replying. He responded pretty quickly after that. After days of contradicting actions, trains of thought that burst into flames as it derailed and red string theory memes he finally told me that his decision to take a break, reassure me and then dump me in such an abrupt manner on a workday, twice btw, was because he really hadn't thought about it...

Now this is going to sound strange but I am so glad my exhusband had been abusive because it taught me control. Otherwise I would have hit him. Who does that?! Im 99% sure he wasnt lying because he's a blunt INTJ and he explained his incomprehensible thought process earlier and I've had previous experience with his type of obliviousness. He really didnt mean to hurt me, he doesnt have any social circle to speak of so when planned this whole thing his feedback was a crowd of 1.

But I saved the best for last. He appears to genuinely like me and really doesnt want to lose me. He wants to be friends...and my dumb ass said yes. With a caveat that the second he starts dating I'm out. I dont do lover to friends. I'm possessive and wont share. So as long as he stays single I'll be his friend. I know I'm dumb. I know I'm just going to be hurt by another display of thoughtlessness from him. But except for the week of hell I've been truly happy with him until I got sick. He's a jerk. I deserve better. But did you know, that INFP can be shallow too. I didnt until i met him. He is so pretty (in my eyes, he is definitely not to everyone's taste) and 7 years younger and he picked me 2.5 years ago. I am not pretty. Hard marriage, lifetime of depression, rather read another chapter than apply a layer of makeup, etc. but he eavesdrop me talking to my work friend and liked what he heard and asked me out.

God I'm dumb. Wow. I'm so sorry. It just happened today and I needed to let it out and when it started I tried another forum to get perspective from similar wired people as my boyfriend so I could do whatever was best for him and some responses were productive and informative if a tad blunt. One or two tried with all their might to be kind and I love them for that. The rest can burn in hell. I know I'm what people consider an "unhealthy" version of my type but I've just been considering myself a survival INFP. I think we all get broken a lot thanks to our inner compass. And when we build ourselves back up again our structure gains or loses new aspects. My corners are sharper, and someone broke my glasses so things arent clear all the time and when my belief in human goodness broke off I wasnt able to find all the pieces but it's still there. I'm still here. And now I will shut up. Sorry again. Still gonna post it though! :p

[thedysphoriadiaries]

Entry 49? - Questions - 1 May 2023, 1:21pm

I... kind of wish that I was back on E.

Kind of.

All the searches in Google to explain my situation come up moot. There's not a single explanation out there as to why a presumed-cis guy would want to take E. There's not a single explanation as to why a presumed-cis guy would feel better taking E. Yet, I question if I am really trans.

I don't really believe that cis-ness and trans-ness exist in a strict dichotomy. I kind of believe that cis-ness and trans-ness lie on a spectrum, with the only differentiating factor between them, the presence of dysphoria, and/or euphoria.

There are fringe cases of cis, where people (most commonly femboys, or butch women), dress or present themselves in a manner that is more typical of the opposite gender's presentation.

That said, there are people who think about gender as something to play around its fringes. That's why drag shows exist - they are caricatures of masculinity and femininity.

But I don't exist in that space.

One thing keeps bothering me, though. That's my obsessions with gender-swapping potions, and, gender-swapping media in general.

Scouring the websites which I frequent (which happen to be nsfw in nature), I commonly see how the male-to-female transformations outnumber female-to-male transformations; as of the typing of this entry, a certain site (rule34.xxx), happens to catalogue 842 instances of mtf-themed gender transformations, in contrast to 108 instances of ftm-themes gender transformations.

That's almost perfectly an 8:1 ratio.

Does this have anything to do with the male psyche?

Most trans women said that they had an obsession with forced feminization media at some point. I didn't. They seemed off in a way that I couldn't quite pinpoint up until now.

I suppose I now have the words to really describe it.

Objectification. Fetishization.

The fetishization of what it means to be a girl. Especially one who's in her sexual prime. Most of the fantasies that I've heard from others involve being filled with reproductive fluids from multiple men. Or masturbation.

The same fetishization and objectification that leads to women being admired. Appreciated; their likenesses being used in art, and culture.

Nyotaimori, for example. I need not say more.

It's why I hate the concept of this entire forced feminization thing. Even if I was forcefully feminized, the... thing that would result from it wouldn't be me. I am NOT a bimbo, or a slut.

In fact, my definition for fetishization would be to think about something, and only consider the positives of said situation (with a massive amount of self-inserting). It's like saying that nothing bad will come out of me being a girl. That's simply not true, and if I think that being a girl would help me land a partner, or if it would make my life easier, that, to some extent, is fetishization, as I am not seeing what the choice truly entails.

Staying as a guy would be the safer choice, but, is it really worth all the emotional pain of knowing that I am repressing something? Is it the right choice?

Being a girl would be the more freeing choice, but is it the right choice? I wonder if I am simply a feminine man (even then, I feel disgust at this; my biases need reinspecting), or if there's something more to it.

...

I question if those two words are the reason why I feel so angry at my male self. Angry that it will never get to experience the things that women will. Angry that it will never get to experience menopause, but, instead male menopause.

Angry that I will never have children from my own eggs, but of my own sperm.

Angry that I will never get to be a mom. (I'm insane. I get it. I should enjoy fatherhood. What if I want to reject that?)

I question if those two words drove me to obsession with the female body, and its biological functions - such as periods, pregnancy, and stuff along those lines. I wonder if it drove me to question if cis guys could get pregnant (and imagine how intrigued I was by seahorses; though that intrigue became anger).

Yet, the Oedipus complex and womb envy don't explain the feelings I am feeling. Maybe I am envious of the fact that women can birth life. Maybe I am envious that women can do things that men can't, and I'm merely licking their bootstraps, trying to be like them.

But, why am I not empowering myself, the same way that other men would? After all, while women birth life, men enable it.

That statement makes me mildly uncomfortable.

Could it be that I genuinely don't want to be a man, since it'd mean that I'd have to put up with her screaming for the rest of my life?

Could it be internalized gender-based biases? A bias towards women as the 'purer' sex?

I don't know. All I know is that, for some reason, I want to be one. I have always wanted to be one.

Yes, I am an angsty little missy. (or little sir, whatever you want to call me)

I think about telling others that trying to be a guy has made me something I am uncomfortable with being. Then again, anyone would tell me that embodying masculinity or femininity should come with the excising of a certain part of yourself, in order to fit into the socially-acceptable stereotypes of what being a guy or girl is.

How, then, do I make them see that this is more than that?

...

Even as I drape a towel over my head, I still feel how much hair I'm lacking; the towel is merely a way to cope with a change that I didn't really want. So far, it's working. But I can't keep it around forever.

Then again, as I lay in my bed this morning, and looked at my own reflection in my phone, I just couldn't help but wonder where exactly I've been going this whole time.

Just two years ago, I was fine with being a guy. I was, maybe a little angry, but, I didn't have the space to feel that way - school, and my ex-partner filled the rest of my life up.

Even just seven years ago, I was fine with being a guy. In fact, I wanted to be a guy, if I wasn't just merely fine with being one. I did feel a little weird about growing an Adam's apple, but, well, I guess it's too late for that now.

There's this video essay about why Uncle Iroh (from Avatar: The Last Airbender) is the pinnacle of masculinity.

Why do I not want to approach those values from the perspective of a guy?

Why do I hate my own masculinity, and compare it to femininity?

...

I don't know.

...

I remember a little interview that Laura Jane Grace had with Wired. She talked about seeing Madonna on the TV, and wanting to be like her, but recognizing that she couldn't - she, like me, was born a male.

I'm in disbelief. Is the bar really that low? Literally having an innocent want to be a girl (or guy) is enough?

I don't believe that people don't feel like this, at some point in their lives.

I genuinely don't believe it. I don't want to believe that this isn't something that most people don't feel.

Yet, most of the people I've asked have been able to look me in the eye and tell me that they have never once felt like becoming a girl. They have never felt the same tingles that I did, when discussing stuff that would happen to girls, the same way I did.

Am I, then, the one with the issue?

...

This haircut means more to me than anybody else will know. It's a reminder. A reminder that everything you've worked for can be taken away.

Two years of questions, and answers. Gone. All gone in the span of 10 minutes.

...

I lie on my side nowadays, when I go to sleep. For some reason, I like feeling Little Lynn on my arm, and I wonder what it would be like to have breasts of my own, even if they turn out to be small. It makes me happy, for some strange, unknown reason.

But maybe this is the nature of life. Either I wait for my turn, or, as per every opportunity that passes me by, I realize that my chance to improve my life has gone by too quickly for me to grasp at them.

...

I still remember this form sitting at the grand piano in the school's hall, playing the same piano interlude, during my lunch break. My hair was this short, back then.

This is not a time which I want to go back to.

...

I am not going back to work. I can't do it. That friend of mine said that I should go to work, to go 'expose myself to the world'.

Yeah, if that was the case, why do I feel like my soul is somewhere out there, surfing on Saturn's rings? I can't keep walking rounds around a store while I feel dead.

Either way, the below still stays:

I've seen the world through her eyes, and I stand in awe at its beauty; for the first time, I see.

I want to go back.

One more thing: her favorite color is sky blue. We both saw it when we visited a Tokyu Hands outlet; back then, I was interested in pens, and I somehow convinced my mom to get me a pen, with three small bottles of ink. A bottle of sky blue ink was among them. Anyway, it's her favorite now (the other two were bark brown, and charcoal black).

(and no, to any new viewers, I just simply address the part of me that wants to be a girl as her. It's a more poetic way to put it.)

...

cool song time

[camgoloud]

me normally, just existing in my skin on a day-to-day basis: i’m not a particularly feminine person but i’m definitely not MASCULINE really like i just kind of don’t think about it much either way and it’s fine! :)

me standing in the makeup and skincare aisles in target with my mother and sister: oh wow i am the most masc woman alive, apparently

[sie-rui]

Hello lovely! I loved the scenario you did //It’s only you—their s/o overhears someone confessing to them and gets insecure 🤍🤍 for Mikey and Chifuyu!! I wanted to request them but this time..reversed!// Like they overhear someone confessing to their s/o and gets insecure 🥺🤍 reader reassures them ofc~she wants no one but him:,)

❀ IT’S STILL YOU | TOKYO REVENGERS 🤍 sano manjiro, matsuno chifuyu 💿 female reader, second pov (you/your), angst and fluff, established relationship, au - everyone lives / nobody dies, timeline: highschool, imagine 📅 july 04, 2021 🔗 masterlist ,, version: alternative

they may be quite popular at school but they know their flaws as well. they can't help but feel insecure when someone confesses to their s/o, realizing that you could do better than them.

. . . SANO MANJIRO

“Please go out with me, Y/n-san.”

Manjiro’s smile immediately flipped into a frown hearing those words that left the boy’s lips. He didn’t recognize him at first but after a few agonizing seconds of thinking, he finally pinpointed a name to the face: a student two classrooms away, one that you helped quite a few times with studying when you weren’t with Mikey and Draken.

Mikey had known that he had feelings for you, from the way his touch on your shoulder lingered and how he glanced at you while you’re teaching him something on his notebook. He just didn’t expect for the boy to actually confess to you.

He had come here looking for you only to be greeted by a less favored sight of someone else trying to take you from him.

He sits by the wall, pouting with his arms crossed, crossing his legs and awaiting your reply. He knew that you would reject, he can’t expect you to do anything else. Mikey loved you!... You loved him as well, right?

Sure, he isn’t perfect. He’s not smart, doesn’t get perfect grades, doesn’t even participate in classes and just falls asleep. He isn’t that well-mannered either nor is he gentle, rather he’s very pushy and clingy. He isn’t that mature in some moments, always acting on his emotions rather than his head. But… But-

Manjiro falters. Oh god, what if you’re actually tired of him but aren't saying anything because that’s just how you were—always so kind, always so thoughtful? He can’t let you go! He can’t imagine spending his whole life with anyone else...

Baji had warned him of this. Girls like you prefer boys who are mature, who always know what to do and what they want and can make them happy. Manjiro knew that he made you happy but he doesn’t completely trust his brain and his abilities to be in the same league as you.

This boy was the first in his class, prim and proper, has proper etiquette, generally well-liked by both students and teachers, and he’s even a part of the student council.

Mikey takes a quick peek…

He’s quite handsome as well.

You could-

“I’m sorry, I already have a boyfriend and I love him with all my heart.”

He leans back on the wall, feeling as if all the fight left him while relief settles deep on his shoulders.

“O-Oh, yeah, I know. I’m really sorry. I just wanted to tell you.”

“Thank you, and I’m sorry. I hope that we can still be friends after this.” Even without looking, Mikey knew that you were smiling so kindly, hoping for the best. The boy responded positively but Mikey was already standing, ready to walk away.

“Manjiro! Jeez, you need to stop eavesdropping.”

He freezes, looking over his shoulder with a sheepish smile as you stand there with your hands on your waist. You caught him huh… “Sorry, sorry,” he murmurs as you walk up to him.

Expecting a harmless jab to his shoulders, Mikey was surprised that you wrapped your arms around him, pressing a kiss to his jaw. “What’s wrong? Jealous?”

When you look up at him, the realization of him being lucky dawns once more, again and again, reminding him. Manjiro loves you, you and your pretty smiles and soft heart. He grins, resting his forehead on yours. “Nah, I just love you.”

. . . MATSUNO CHIFUYU

Chifuyu gnaws at his lips in apprehension.

He knew it was wrong but he couldn’t help but follow you all the way out here in the empty courtyard when he saw you with another boy. Chifuyu got too curious, alarmed at the fact that the boy was holding your hand.

So here he was, crouching behind some trash cans, trying to convince himself that no, this isn’t weird, I’m just making sure that this asshole isn’t going to do something suspicious.

“I- I like you, Y/n-chan! Please go out with me.”

Chifuyu blinks, unsure if he just heard it right. It wasn’t wrong but it was rare for a male to actually confess to a girl instead of the other way around in their school. Chifuyu definitely confessed to you first, albeit being a little insecure and a little hesitant, ready for rejection.

He wasn’t that surprised though.

You were beautiful, you were kind. Chifuyu was convinced that everyone loved you and it wasn’t too far off from the truth. This guy may have been a senior but even him wasn’t an exception to your charms.

Chifuyu can’t help but gnaw at his lips even more, almost causing it to bleed from how hard he was biting it.

Shit what if you didn’t like Chifuyu anymore? What if you actually didn’t from the very start and only pitied him? You’ve only been dating for two months, if you broke up with him, it wouldn’t change anything that much for you. But it would change everything for Chifuyu.

He frowns, looking down on the ground and ignoring how his legs ache from how long he had been frozen up in that one position.

If you were to agree… If you were to accept the confession… If you were to break up with Chifuyu…

He’d have to let go of you. He didn’t want to. But if it made you happier, if you were happier with him, if you didn’t want Chifuyu anymore… He’d do it a thousand times-

“Sorry, senpai, I’m not interested.”

“Ah… Thanks for your time, Y/n-chan.”

Chifuyu stares at his shoes, fiddling with his shoelaces. He felt so relieved that it was almost suffocating. You can still be his… Even if just for a little while more until you find someone better.

“What are you doing crouching over there, Fuyu?”

He snaps up, seeing you peek at him. Standing up in surprise, he bumps his head onto yours before he once more falls to his bottom, almost hitting the back of head on the bin. “Y/n!”

Chifuyu hurries up while massaging his forehead, heading over to your side to see you also sitting on the floor while holding your head. He kneels in front of you, gently pulling your hand away so you can caress your forehead.

He frets, missing the way you looked at him softly. “Do we need to get it checked in the infirmary?”

You giggle, snapping Chifuyu out of his worried daze. “Y/n?”

Chifuyu tenses when you press your hand on his arm, leaning forward to press a quick kiss on his lips, catching him off guard. You looked at him as if you knew what he was feeling, causing uneasiness to crawl in his veins. “I’m so lucky to have you as my boyfriend.”

His gaze softens and Chifuyu plops down beside you, resting his forehead on your shoulder. “I should be the one to say that,” he murmurs but you only giggle in response.

[robininthelabyrinth]

JC adopts stray/rouge cultivators after the war au to cope with the destruction of lotus pier. also i love your writing so much!!

Gratuitously Acquired - ao3

-

1

At first, he took anyone who would join, needing numbers – needing people. There were plenty of cultivators that wanted to be associated with a great sect. Plenty, too, that were barely more than criminals, wanting to use the smoke and ash of war to obscure the past, to cover up old crimes and wash themselves clean.

Jiang Cheng wasn’t in any position to refuse them. Soldiers were soldiers.

After the war ended, though…

Some he cast out. Others, even more despicable, he slaughtered for what they’d done.

A few –

“Yan Qiao.”

The female cultivator in question, who had been sneaking out of the still mostly ruined Lotus Pier at night in flagrant violation of curfew, froze in her tracks.

“Uh,” she said. “Sect Leader Jiang. Fancy finding you…here…now…at this time…”

Jiang Cheng looked at the basket of buns in her hands. “You’re stealing leftovers from our kitchens to feed orphans among the common people,” he said. “Again.”

She blushed. “No one wants them now that there’s better available, Sect Leader! Really, they’ll only go stale, and then rot – and I never stole when it was the army eating them!”

“That’s not the point,” Jiang Cheng said irritably. “Tell me, how in the name of heavens did you really get branded as a criminal? Distributed too many alms? Did too much charity?”

Yan Qiao coughed, turning red. “I told you before, Sect Leader. I killed a man.”

“He must have done something particularly heinous, then. You’re shitat killing.”

“Now I am. Sect Leader, if you don’t mind…”

“You’re one of the ones who wants my surname, right?” he interrupted. “Consider it granted.”

Yan Qiao – no, he supposed he’d better start thinking of her as Jiang Qiao – gaped at him. “But…Sect Leader!”

“I’ve barely granted it to anyone, so you’d better live up to it, you hear me?” Jiang Cheng said in his best threatening voice. He’d been assured by several people that it was really quite threatening, anyway. “I don’t want any excuses. Now go feed your damn orphans, and in the morning I want a report on how you think we can do it in a more structured manner. I can’t have you sneaking off every night anymore! Now that you’re a Jiang, you’re going to have work.”

-

2

When they were done with war and started firmly on rebuilding, the Jiang sect’s name was firmly reestablished as a Great Sect once more, it was the opportunists that came.

Smiling faces, sycophantic voices, cowards one and all – like beetles crawling out of the woodwork, not willing to risk their lives, but willing enough to beg for scraps and advantages later on when it seemed safe enough to do so.

Jiang Cheng wanted to chase them all away, but his sect was still weaker than he wanted to admit, still rebuilding, still more army than civilian operation. They had valiant soldiers by the dozen, but they needed more than that. They needed administrators, supervisors, artisans, smiths, merchants, laundry-women…

They needed workers. The ones they got – well, cowards they might be, but skills they had.

He still rejected most of the worst of them.

Most.

“Bo Zhou,” he said, inspecting the surprisingly flush list of taxes they’d collected that quarter, and the man in question turned to grin unrepentantly at him. “You’d tell me if you were a con artist in a previous life, right?”

“A previous life, Sect Leader?” Bo Zhou said. He was still grinning, but then, he was always grinning. He had a crooked leg and an even more crooked heart, and he’d probably steal candy from little children if he happened to have a hankering, but he was amazing at getting people to do what he wanted. Too amazing, really. “Why limit yourself? What about thislife?”

“…Bo Zhou. Tell me you aren’t a former con artist.”

“I may or may not have had a sideline selling snake oil and protective talismans before I became a cultivator,” Bo Zhou admitted cheerfully, and Jiang Cheng pinched the bridge of his nose – less out of actual irritation and more to keep from actually laughing. The only person he knew that was more shameless than Bo Zhou was Wei Wuxian; he couldn’t wait to introduce them once Wei Wuxian stopped skulking around in wine shops long enough to get back to doing his job as Jiang Cheng’s head disciple and right hand. “Who would’ve known that making all those fake talismans ended up making me pretty good at making actual talismans when I became a cultivator? Really, who could have called that?”

Jiang Cheng rolled his eyes. “Who taught you how to cultivate, anyway? Can I – I don’t know – seek vengeance on behalf of the rest of the world or something?”

Bo Zhou rolled his eyes right back at him. Shameless! “Is this about the taxes? Just be happy I got them all!”

“I can’t just be happy! What if this money is stolen property?”

“Don’t be ridiculous, Sect Leader. They’re what we shouldbe getting, and from all the right people. You told me this was the right amount yourself!”

“Yes, but no one ever actually pays the full amount!” Jiang Cheng enjoyed the way Bo Zhou’s jaw dropped. “I just wanted to see if you could actually do it.”

“I’m hurt at your lack of trust.” Bo Zhou paused, considering. “Also a little impressed at you for keeping a straight enough face to trick me. Well done, Sect Leader.”

“Yeah,” Jiang Cheng said. “You too, Jiang Zhou.”

“It’s Bo…” He trailed off, comprehension arriving and speech departing, and this time he didn’t have a quick retort. He’d been nagging Jiang Cheng on and off for the Jiang surname for the last few weeks, more joking than anything else – he knew that Jiang Cheng hadn’t given his surname to the vast majority of the new people in his sect, only the very few he thought were worth it.

Jiang Cheng enjoyed the newly dubbed Jiang Zhou’s moment of speechlessness thoroughly, since he was moderately sure he wasn’t going to get another one anytime in the next – ever, possibly.

“You proved your worth and your trustworthiness,” he said, patting Jiang Zhou on the shoulder. It occurred to him that he should probably come up with a courtesy name for the man, although he wasn’t sure the man would want one. “Also, congratulations, you’re now the person in charge of tax collection. See if you can think up some new thoughts about supplementing our income, will you? We have so many costs, and I don’t want to rely on Lanling Jin more than I can help it, not like Gusu Lan…”

“Oh, really?” Jiang Zhou interrupted, abruptly excited. “I have so many ideas! How ethical do you want to be about this?”

Jiang Cheng paused. “…very?”

“Be reasonable, Sect Leader!”

“…moderately?” he tried, a little more desperately.

“I can work with moderately. I don’t suppose you’d accept ‘thin and barely plausible veneer’?”

“No.”

“Oh well. Moderately ethical it is!”

-

3

Most of the Jiang sect was slaughtered during the attack on the Lotus Pier. Disciples Jiang Cheng had grown up with his whole life, had expected to see by his side in the future, his friends, his family, even his petty childhood enemies – all gone.

Well, not all gone. There were some Jiang disciples that had been away from Lotus Pier at the time, whether on some errand or a night-hunt or other reasons; they rushed back to his side as soon as they could, of course, and formed the core of Jiang Cheng’s new Jiang sect. When he’d felt utterly alone, when even Wei Wuxian was missing, they had been there for him. They’d preserved their lives and then they’d promised them to him, and it wasn’t until they knelt before him that he really felt like a Sect Leader.

There was no way he could give any of them up now.

“Jiang Meimei, you can’t go,” he said, having completely abandoned all shame in favor of clutching at her robes as if he were a child. “I need you!”

“I’m not even a proper Jiang disciple!” she exclaimed, exasperated – or possibly just annoyed that her grand plan to sneak out in the middle of the night had been stymied by his ambush. “Just because my surname is still Jiang doesn’t mean I didn’t get kicked out, remember?”

“I thought you just left,” Jiang Cheng said, temporarily distracted. “No one ever really talked much about it, actually, but to the extent anyone did, they said that you’d decided that your inclinations were more suited to being a rogue cultivator. That you didn’t want to be weighed down by sect expectations –”

“Hah!” Jiang Meimei tossed her head. “As if it wouldn’t be better to be a roving sect cultivator than a rogue cultivator! I won’t deny that I had a fair bit of wanderlust in my youth –”

“You’re only ten years older than me, you’re not that old.”

“Shut up, brat.”

“You can’t tell me to shut up, I’m your sect leader.”

“You’re my baby cousin is what you are, and, again, I’m actually not part of the Jiang sect!”

“That’s ridiculous,” Jiang Cheng argued. “You’ve been at my side during the entire Sunshot Campaign.”

“I wasn’t going to let my baby cousin get himself murdered, now was I?” Jiang Meimei sniffed. “But I’m still a rogue cultivator. They kicked me out when I wouldn’t accept a marriage, and I’m still firm on that.”

Jiang Cheng blinked. “Wait, you don’t want to be married? Really?” he asked, concerned. “But what about poor Liu Lingling? You shouldn’t be sleeping with her if you don’t intend to be serious about it! I’m pretty sure she’s just waiting for the current project you’re working on to finish to find a matchmaker to exchange birth characters –”

“They wanted me to marry a man,” Jiang Meimei clarified, but her habitual frown had eased considerably; she looked almost on the verge of a smile. “A-Cheng, you’re being dense again. You’re the Sect Leader of a Great Sect now. You know that that means you need to have alliances, marriage contacts with other sects, and that means using your subsidiary branches.”

“Jiang Meimei, you’re the one being dense,” Jiang Cheng said. “You think I’d force you into a marriage? I don’t have subsidiary branches. I barely have a sect, even after all this time. I’m not Wen Ruohan, handing out my surname to anyone who wants it – I only give it to the ones that matter, the ones I want to keep, and those of you that actually share my blood are even rarer, even more precious. How could I give you away?”

Jiang Meimei pursed her lips.

“I really do need you,” Jiang Cheng said quietly. “You weren’t part of the Jiang sect at all, not really, but you still came to help me – you were there from the beginning of the Sunshot Campaign, and you’ve never strayed, never left. You’re my right hand. I can’t do without you.”

Jiang Meimei turned her head away. “It’s not that I want to leave you,” she said. “But becoming a rogue cultivator was hard enough the first time. I couldn’t rely on any of the things that I had always had, everything always changing. I was young and angry then, I could handle it, but things are different now. I’m less flexible, less compromising, older, more tired – I can’t just walk out on a whim and just rough it anymore. I have a girl who, yes, I want to eventually marry; I want to have children. I need certainty. Are you going to give it to me?”

Jiang Cheng looked down at his hands. He’d known it was going to have to come to this, but he’d been dragging his feet, not wanting to succumb to a reality that already existed. Had existed for longer than he wanted to admit, as if simply denying it would mean that it wasn’t the truth.

Like a child.

“Yes,” he said, though it tore his heart out of his chest to do it. “I will. Jiang Meimei…will you take the position of Head Disciple?”

Wei Wuxian wasn’t coming back. Jiang Cheng had already cast him out of the sect, just like Jiang Meimei had been, except in Wei Wuxian’s case it had been something that Wei Wuxian himself had demanded. He was living in Yiling now, and by all reports was quite happy there with his little Wen sect family that he’d picked over Jiang Cheng and all his family.

He was never coming back.

It was time to move on.

“Yes,” she said, and shoved her pack into his chest. “Now go unpack that for me. Consider it payment for driving me to extreme measures!”

“I’m your sect leader, you know,” he grumbled. “Officially, now. You could show me some respect.”

“Would you rather pay for my wedding down the line?”

“I’m going, I’m going!” And then, as he scurried over away, he shouted over his shoulder: “As if I wouldn’t be paying for it anyway! You think my Head Disciple’s going to be married in anything other than top style? Better start planning…”

“Don’t rush me! Brat!”

-

4

Jin Ling wasn’t surnamed Jiang, but he was the most important person in all of the Lotus Pier – and Jiang Cheng wanted to make sure everyone knew it. It hadn’t been easy for him to get the chance to help care for Jin Ling, especially here, so far away from home; Jiang Cheng had expected to barely be allowed to visit, to have to cool his heels outside of Lanling City begging just for a glimpse of him. Being able to take him home to raise for half the year, even if it was due to the dangerous infighting amongst Lanling Jin, was more than he’d ever dreamed.

Unfortunately, it wasn’t clear that Jin Ling himself agreed.

“He’s still crying,” Jiang Cheng muttered, rubbing his eyes. “Surely he’s got to stop sometime? I mean, just – physically?”

“They say a boy resembles his mother’s brother,” Jiang Meimei said, echoing the gesture. “If he’s got your lungs and stamina, Sect Leader, we’re doomed.”

“I’m rethinking the whole having children thing,” Liu Lingling said blearily, having fallen asleep on her soon-to-be wife’s shoulder several times, only to be woken up by the next round of crying. “I need sleep.”

“Go get some, both of you,” Jiang Cheng ordered. When his cousin scowled at him, he scowled back. “I’m serious. If he keeps this up, we’re going to need to go into shifts. I can last a bit longer.”

“That’s a filthy lie.”

“It is not. Your sect leader has given you an order – get to it!”

It was a filthy lie.

Jiang Cheng opened his eyes when the crink in his neck grew too irritating to ignore, at which point he realized he’d been asleep – and, more importantly, that Jin Ling was somehow not crying.

He sat up with a start, suddenly terrified: had something happened to him? Had he been silenced forever? Had Jiang Cheng failed this one last duty he had to his sister?

“Shhh, little one,” someone was whispering, not far away. “Let me tell you the one about the Weaver Girl and the Cowherd, yeah? You seem like someone who’d appreciate stars. It all started –”

Jiang Cheng went to go look.

A teenage girl was rocking Jin Ling in her arms and telling him a story in murmured tones, and Jin Ling was yawning and trying to gnaw on her shirt. She wasn’t even a cultivator, as far as Jiang Cheng could tell. Her clothing suggested some level of poverty, her accent the countryside – how’d she even end up here?

He wasn’t sure he cared.

Jiang Cheng didn’t want to disturb her, but he did anyway; a shift of his weight, a scuffling of his feet, and the floor creaked. The girl jumped, startled, but luckily Jin Ling was already most of the way asleep and just grumbled a little instead of starting to screech.

“How’d you do that?” Jiang Cheng asked, nodding at Jin Ling. “Make him stop crying.”

“My mother had seven kids after me,” the girl said, answering automatically. “And her sister had six. Someone had to learn to deal with all those babies, and it ended up being me. Think it’s just habit after this long.”

Jiang Cheng couldn’t handle one baby. He couldn’t even imagine.

That’s when the girl seemed to remember herself, and bit her lip. “Uh, sorry,” she said, hanging her head. “I heard him crying and I couldn’t resist...I’m pretty sure I’m not supposed to be here. It was an accident.”

“How did you get here?” Jiang Cheng asked, because accidental or not, a security breach was still a security breach. “And who are you, anyway?”

“My name’s A-Hua. I’m here to work in the kitchens, just got hired this morning; the fourth cook is my uncle’s wife’s cousin, she got me a job, said it was a good place to start – I was trying to find my way out so I could go to the servant’s quarters to get some sleep, but then I got lost…”

More likely she’d decided it was better to try to stay somewhere indoors than go out in the pouring rain to try to find her way to the right set of quarters, Jiang Cheng thought to himself. “Give me your hand.”

“Uh. What?”

He ignored her stare, took her hand and felt her pulse. There was a little bit of natural talent there, though not much; she might, if she tried hard enough, become a cultivator, but she’d never be more than a servant.

Unless, of course, she did something unusual to impress someone.

“Forget the kitchens,” Jiang Cheng told her. “You’re hired on a provisional basis to keep an eye on Jin Ling.”

The girl nodded, eyes wide as saucers. “Can you – do that?”

Jiang Cheng rolled his eyes. “Yes, I can. What’s your surname? You can’t go around being called A-Hua, we have at least seven people that I know of that go by that name.”

The girl looked distressed.

She probably didn’t have a proper surname. Some people in the countryside didn’t.

But they really couldn’t go around shouting “A-Hua” every time Jin Ling was crying, which was basically all the time.

“Fine,” he said, giving in. “Do well, and I’ll consider letting you use mine. But only if you do well!”

-

5

Jiang Cheng was covered in mud thanks to a successful-but-at-what-cost night hunt and angry about it, stomping around the lotus pools on his way back to town, when he heard the familiar sounds of someone having a panic attack.

He slowed, involuntarily, and took a look: it was some teenager dressed in black, heaving miserably by a tree.

Jiang Meimei had once said that Jiang Cheng was a bit weak when it came to teenagers.

Jiang Cheng said that was nonsense.

Jiang Hua chimed in, quite loyally (if perhaps not with the best timing), and said he wasn’t.

Jiang Cheng yielded the argument at once to keep Jiang Meimei from laughing herself sick.

In view of that, he was better off ignoring the kid. After all, what was it to him that some kid was having a fit of anxiety right next the same old lotus pool that he used to have his own teenage fits of anxiety next to, under the shade of the same old tree that had sheltered him – one of the few places that remained untouched by the Wen sect’s aggression, one of the few places that was exactly the same?

Jiang Cheng groaned and walked over. “Okay, fine. What’s your problem?”

The kid looked up at him. He had dark circles under his eyes. “I think my heart’s about to explode.”

“That’s just the anxiety,” Jiang Cheng said, and sat down next to him. “What’s causing the anxiety? Don’t say that someone is better than you and your parents are disappointed in you.”

“What?” the kid blinked. “No, it’s not – it’s not that. I’m about to screw up the very first job I ever got.”

Jiang Cheng considered that. It was just different enough from his own issues that he didn’t suspect a plot, and yet close enough that he might actually be able to offer some expertise.

“Do you want to talk about it?” he asked reluctantly.

“Not to some mud-man,” the kid said, and – hey! It wasn’t that bad. He thought, anyway. Actually, it probably was that bad. “I just…I’m the only one left. I have to make something of myself!”

Jiang Cheng’s eye twitched. “What do you mean, you’re the only one left?”

The kid stuttered through his story. It wasn’t as bad as Jiang Cheng had initially feared, but it was still pretty bad – his small village had had bad harvests, and there had been starvation, a bad winter; the kid had been sent out to get help, but it had taken too long and he’d arrived back to find them all already gone. He’d been lost, but some traveling cultivator had agreed to take him on as a disciple provided he proved himself, had taught him all sorts of skills, cultivation and talisman-writing and music –

“Music?” Jiang Cheng asked. “Not the sword?”

“There was only the one,” the kid explained. “Obviously he kept it for himself.”

Jiang Cheng didn’t think much of that – surely this cultivator, whoever he ws, could have shared, just long enough to teach? – but he didn’t comment. It seemed fairly clear that the kid didn’t actually think very highly of his teacher, although he was very earnestly trying to be appropriately filial.

It was a little cute.

“…and I was supposed to wait here for someone when they came by here, some fancy rich person, and then get them to follow me, but it’s been ages and no one’s come by at all!” the kid wailed. “I’m such a screw up!”

“You don’t even know who you’re waiting for?” Jiang Cheng asked, and the kid shook his head. “How were you supposed to get them to follow you, then?”

The kid scratched his nose. “My master said that if I showed off some of my cultivation, they’d follow me right away.”

Jiang Cheng suppressed a smirk. “It must be very impressive cultivation, then.”

“…not really. I only know one trick,” the kid admitted. “But it’s not that hard, and it looks impressive – here, see, wait; give me a second, I just need to whistle –”

Zidian crackled to life on Jiang Cheng’s finger before the kid finished the first stanza.

“Stop that!” he cried out, leaping to his feet, and – startled – the kid stopped, blinking owlishly at him. “Is that what your master taught you?!”

“Yes?” the kid said. “Did I do it wrong?”

Jiang Cheng gnashed his teeth. “That’s demonic cultivation. Never do that, okay? Ever.”

“But then how am I supposed to get the fancy rich person to follow me, assuming he ever showed?”

Jiang Cheng’s eyes narrowed. If he hadn’t tripped over that branch and fallen into the mud – if he hadn’t taken an extra half-shichen to struggle out of the mire – if he’d walked by in all his usual finery, rich person that he was, and seen some kid practicing demonic cultivation…

He’d have given chase in a heartbeat.

More to the point, everyone knew he would. His reputation had been pretty much set in stone by this point.

“Let’s go find that master of yours,” he said. “Right now.”

Of course, that ended up leading Jiang Cheng straight into the bastard’s trap, which would have been a problem except that he’d taken the time to send someone to tell Jiang Qiao, who’d been waiting for him back in town, that he’d be a bit late and not to worry, just wait where she was.

She’d ignored his instructions and arrived just in time to knife the demonic cultivator – a human trafficker whose operations Jiang Cheng had shut down with extreme viciousness only a few months before – right in the belly, gutting him like a fish in a swift easy motion.

“I think I’m getting the hang of it again,” she said, smiling at the knife, and Jiang Cheng made a mental note to ask exactly how manymen she’d killed to get that criminal brand of hers, except the poor kid was sinking down to his knees with a horrified look and, shit, that horrible bastard, evil as he might have been, was probably the last person the kid had in this whole rotten world, wasn’t he?

“Does Jiang Hua still have those beginner manuals we dug up for her?” Jiang Cheng asked, and Jiang Qiao nodded. “Good. Tell her that starting today, Jiang Jianwen here’s her little brother. She’s been pining over raising someone ever since Jin Ling got to be too old to snuggle.”

The kid looked up with wide eyes.

“No, you don’t get a choice on the name,” Jiang Cheng told him. “Whatever name this piece of crap gave you, just forget it, you hear me? You can do better than him. But no more demonic cultivation!”

-

+1

“I wish I could visit the Lotus Pier,” Wei Wuxian mumbled, looking wistfully downriver. They were very close by, but he still didn’t dare, even though Jiang Cheng had grumpily extended an invitation through Jin Ling. So much had happened – he just didn’t know where to even start.

He didn’t want to get into all that messy history with Jiang Cheng.

He just wanted to visit, that’s all.

He missed Jiang Cheng, but he missed the Lotus Pier, too. The food, the places, the air…

“I just need a secret way in that even the sect leader doesn’t know about,” he sighed. He’d once known them all – but there was a different sect leader now, and a different Lotus Pier. He couldn’t risk it: Jiang Cheng might find out that he’d snuck in and feel hurt, thinking that Wei Wuxian was avoiding him, when he was just avoiding the conversation; that would just make everything worse.

Lan Wangji would have distracted him, but Lan Wangji himself had been distracted – some man in Jiang sect colors with a heavy limp and an excited sort of air had rushed over, shouting something about wanting to talk about tax policy and possibly also games of chance, and Lan Wangji had all but fled. It had been so funny that Wei Wuxian had nearly laughed himself sick.

“I know one,” someone said, and Wei Wuxian glanced over: it was a young man in Jiang sect disciple robes, little more than a teenager – only a few years older than Jin Ling, if he had to guess. He was smiling, ducking his head a little; he looked proud of himself. “I mean, if you really want. But only if you don’t mean any harm!”

How adorable, Wei Wuxian thought, and grinned at him. “I just want something spicy without having to go through the whole process of greeting people, is that a crime?”

“Not at all!” the kid exclaimed, beaming, and Wei Wuxian almost felt bad for conning him. Almost.

“Do you really know a secret way in?” he asked, pretending to be doubtful. “Really?”

Sure enough, the kid – Jiang Jianwen, apparently, he must be the kid of one of the ones that survived the massacre – was easily lured into insisting that he did know, and then to agreeing to act as guide.

And, moreover, it turned out he really did know his way inside, which made this the easiest infiltration ever.

Or so Wei Wuxian thought right up until he felt a knife point touch his ribs.

“Well done, Jianwen!” a young woman – also in Jiang colors – said, reaching out and ruffling Jiang Jianwen’s hair.

“Aw, it was nothing,” he said, just as bashful as he was when he’d been talking to Wei Wuxian. “I couldn’t have done it without shixiong luring off Lan-er-gongzi.”

Wait, that’d been part of this, too?

That was worrisome.

“Hardly nothing,” the older woman standing behind Wei Wuxian said. She had a certain sort of rock-hard steadiness that was more worrying than the knife she was holding on him – she was a powerful cultivator, familiar with killing and scarred with a criminal’s brand, and yet she seemed entirely at ease in a way that suggested a strong sense of righteousness, with no guilt or weak points he might exploit to make an easy out. “You successfully conned the Yiling Patriarch into following you right into a trap.”

Wei Wuxian wondered if he could deny it.

“I don’t know, shijie, that doesn’t seem that hard,” the first woman said. “Isn’t he the kind of person to run head-first into danger at the first instance?”

“Head-first into danger, and like his tail’s on fire away from dogs,” the older woman agreed, and – damnit. There was clearly no denying it; they actually knew him. Though from where, he had no idea. “A-Hua, Jiangwen, let’s go – we don’t want to be late for our meeting.”

“I don’t suppose I can convince you to tell me who we’re going to go see?” Wei Wuxian tried, putting on his most charming smile. “Or, perhaps, who you are, and what you have against me…?”

“Jiang Jianwen you know,” the woman said, rather unexpectedly. “I’m Jiang Qiao, and this is Jiang Hua. Our shixiong is Jiang Zhou – he’s the one that makes Lan-er-gongzi lose his wallet every time he’s forced to visit Yunmeng.”

Wei Wuxian was almost distracted with the tantalizing prospects of stories about Lan Wangji. Almost.

“You’re all surnamed Jiang?” he asked, surprised: he might have believed it for Jiang Jianwen, maybe, he was young enough to be the son of someone in the last generation. But Jiang Hua and Jiang Qiao looked absolutely nothing alike either to each other or to Jiang Cheng, and at least Jiang Qiao was old enough that he should’ve recognized her if she’d been a Jiang. There’d been a lot of people in the old Jiang sect, even if you limited it to those surnamed Jiang, but he’d been Head Disciple back then – he’d known almost all of them.

“We’re adopted,” Jiang Jianwen said. He looked very proud. “Sect Leader Jiang took us into the family as part of the branch lines.”

Wei Wuxian had never once in his life wanted to have the surname Jiang, not even when he’d been mocked for not having it. He’d never even thought about it. Not ever.

He felt a stab of envy at the word family, though.

“He gave you his surname?” he asked, and tried not to feel jealous when they all nodded. “Oh.”

It made sense, he tried to tell himself as they walked through the back streets of the Lotus Pier. The Jiang sect had been demolished, and Jiang Cheng practically the only survivor but for whoever happened by coincidence to not be at home – the Jiang sect would need branch family members, and adoption made sense. There was no reason to resent the idea of Jiang Cheng giving the name he had always treated as being so precious to a branded former criminal, to a con man, to a commoner from the countryside, to a –

“You were a what?” Wei Wuxian exclaimed.

“A demonic cultivator,” Jiang Jianwen said bashfully. “Not a very a good one, though.”

Wei Wuxian wanted to say something to that. He didn’t know what, but something.

“Enough chatter,” Jiang Qiao said. “We’re here.”

Jiang Hua opened the door and Wei Wuxian stepped inside.

Then he tried to step back out, only to be crowded in by the others.

“No, no, no,” he said. “No, I was willing to play along until now, but this is a step too far. You don’t understand! She’s going to eviscerate me!”

Jiang Meimei – older than the teenager he remembered her being when she left the sect, but still unmistakable – grinned with her teeth bared.

“Oh good,” she said. “At least your brain is still working. Now come on and have a seat, and we’re going to talk about how you’ve been treating my baby cousin recently…”

[darkmulti]

King of Hell

BTS

Series : part 1

Pairing: demon!Jungkook x human!Female Reader x demon!Taehyung x demon!Jimin

Genre: Angst & Smut

Word Count: 4.3K

CONTAINS DARK THEMES!

PLEASE READ AT YOUR OWN RISK! READ WARNINGS CAREFULLY!

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A/N: SHAIWJW, IVE BEEN “WRITING” THIS FIC SINCE LAST YEAR, HOLY FUCK. Anyways I hope you enjoy this shitty story:)

These are the warnings for the entire series!! This is a dark fanfic that is not meant for everyone! If these warnings trigger you, please leave!!

Smut Warning(s): multiple smuts, cockwarming, face slapping, saliva kink, thigh riding, humiliation, heavy degradation, dacryphilia kink, threesome, anal, blowjob, somnophilia kink, mirror sex, choking, spanking, hair pulling, rough sex, mix of ddlg, sleep sex, overstimulation, multiple orgasms, squirting, begging, small bits of praising, marking, fear kink, cum shots, cum eating

Other Warning(s): possessive!Jungkook, blood, murder, torture, physical abuse, Stockholm Syndrome, submissive reader

I’m probably missing something...

THIS FIC CONTAINS NON CONSENSUAL SEX! PLEASE READ AT YOUR OWN RISK!

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Somewhere in the back of her mind, she knew this was wrong. But did she care?

No.

The girl laid supine on her boss's desk, sore legs bound around his torso, caging him in. His hand gently kneads her sensitive breast, earning soft moans from her. She grabbed his tie and tugged on it until he leaned down and passionately kissed her. The man gently pulled her up and swiftly wrapped his shapely arms around her body. She pulled away first, eager to catch her breath.

The excessive tension in the overheated room was unbearable. Her head remained low in embarrassment while her boss burned her with his gaze. To break up the tension, she awkwardly clears her throat and hops off his desk. For some reason, she desperately wanted to apologize but stopped herself. From what she remembers, her boss was undressing her with his eyes, so she let him have it. Deciding she’s not going to apologize, she frantically pulled up her skirt and opened the door to leave.

However, her boss was faster than her and instantly closed it again. He cupped her cheeks and attempted to kiss her again, but she stepped away. “I’m sorry, Dr. Kim. It’s getting late and my apartment is far from here, so I better get going. I’ll see you tomorrow.”

Taehyung scowled at her. It was insulting to him. No one has ever rejected his touch. He grabbed the hem of her shirt and flung her onto his desk. She groaned in pain, protecting her injured side. Taehyung clutched her face and attached his lips onto hers, kissing her like it was his last time. She instinctively kicked her legs at him, but that made him more belligerent.

“Stop! Leave me alone!” She yelled, throwing her hands against his chest, trying to get him off. Unfortunately, she was no match for him. Taehyung pinned her down without a struggle and pulled her skirt down again. “I tried being nice, princess. But now you’ve gotten on my nerves.” He growled, forcing his cock in, despite her screaming at him to stop.

A sadistic smirk appears on his face as he picks up his pace. His warm cock fitted inside of her perfectly. It was like they were made for each other. He closed his eyes and threw his head back, enjoying the feeling to the fullest. While Taehyung was on cloud nine, the girl was bawling her eyes out underneath him. “T- Taehyung! Stop! It h- hurts!” She sobbed uncontrollably, breath hitching. Her vision started to blur as she felt her energy drain out of her writhing body. She's never endured this much pain.

Taehyung grunts as he pushes himself forward one last time before cumming in her. “Fuck! You feel so good, baby.” He leaned down and licked her tears away. He then created a trail of hickeys along her jawline, down to her collar bone. “How about another round, babe?”

“No, no! Please, no! It hurts!” She hiccuped, putting her hands together. “Please, Dr. Kim. I’ll do anything except for this! I c- can give you money… if you’d like.” Taehyung couldn’t help himself. Watching her beg for mercy was a turn on. “I don’t need your filthy money, slut. Now stay still or else you're fired.”

He ruthlessly entered in again. She let out a painful whimper but didn’t dare to move because her job was on the line. Taehyung held her hips down and quickened his pace. The helpless girl was fighting off the urge to push him away with all her remaining strength. Soon enough, her legs trembled on their own as ripples of forced pleasure went through her body. More tears gathered in her fearful eyes. A minute passed, she was still sprawled on his desk, catching her breath. “C- can I pl- please leave now?” She faintly whispered, on the verge of passing out.

Taehyung pulled her ragged skirt up then pulled her upright. He moved her hair out of her face and tenderly caressed her cheek, admiring her face. “You won’t tell anyone about this, understand?” She sobbed but nodded her head. “Good… get your stuff, I’ll drive you home.”

“No, sir. It’s okay. I’ll call a taxi. You can go home.” Taehyung’s eyes darkened. He grabbed her neck and squeezed it. “You’re making me repeat myself, Y/N. You out of all people should know how much I hate doing that. Now for the last time, get your shit and I’ll drive you home.” He took a step back and followed her to her office. She quickly grabbed her purse and jacket, then they both headed out.

The car ride home was silent. She didn't dare to speak a word. Not after what he did to her. All she could do is keep her head down and play with the hem of her shirt. Taehyung glanced over at her here and there, but he too didn’t speak a word. He looked in his rear view mirror and spotted his best friend sitting in the back, staring at “his” girl. “Keep your eyes off of her. She’s already taken, Jungkook.”

Y/N flinched when Taehyung started talking. “Huh? Are you talking to me?” She asked, confused. Red flags were popping up but she couldn’t exactly jump onto the highway. She bit down on her lip and waited for a response. “Took you a while to detect my presence, Taehyung. I thought you could do better.” She immediately turned around and saw a man sitting in the middle seat, legs spread apart. His long, jet-black hair almost veiled his eyes, and he was covered in tattoos. “Who the hell are you?!” She slightly yells, clearly startled by the man. “I wouldn’t raise my voice if I were you, sweetheart. Anyone who disrespects me will regret it for the rest of their life and afterlife.” Jungkook mockingly said, confusing the girl even more. She turned to Taehyung for an explanation, but he simply rested his hand on her thigh. “Calm down, angel. I won’t let him hurt you.”

“Bold of you to say that, Taehyung. You really think you can take me on?” Jungkook challenged.

“To keep her by my side, I’d knock you over without hesitation.” Taehyung said with a dull expression on his face.

“Don’t tell me you have feelings for this girl. Man, you keep letting me down. First living in the mortal world and now, falling in love. What’s next? Marriage? Family planning? Pathetic, Kim Taehyung. If Jimin were here, he’d be laughing his ass off.”

“If you have nothing nice to say, leave. I thought you didn’t enjoy the mortal world.”

“I don’t, I just wanted to see what my dearest friend is up to. I’m astonished, however. You managed to keep that unpleasant side of yours a secret.”

Taehyung glanced at his girl. Her face was pale and if you looked closely, she was shaking. Taehyung stroked her thigh in a soothing manner, signinally her to calm down. Out of fear, she clings to Taehyung’s hand tightly. This didn’t go unnoticed by Jungkook. He sensed her fear the moment she sat in the car. He enjoyed watching her crumble apart in the passenger seat. She looked vulnerable and afraid, he wanted to ruin her innocent looking face.

“Stop gawking at my girlfriend, Kook. Don’t you have anything better to do?”

“No, I actually don’t. Next month, I’ll be announced king, but until then, I’ll hang around you and this lovely princess.”

From that point on, Taehyung knew he couldn’t leave her alone. If he did, Jungkook would 100% hurt her or even worse, mark her as his own. Jungkook’s one selfish bastard. He will always put himself before others. Taehyung immediately knew Jungkook was attracted to her; he could tell just by observing the way Jungkook looked at her. But he wasn’t going to let Jungkook have her too. Originally, Taehyung was supposed to be king, but Jungkook was stubborn and wanted to fight for the title. Taehyung didn’t want to fight his best friend, so he willingly surrendered.

30 minutes later, he finally arrived at her apartment. She quietly thanked Taehyung for the ride, then got out. However, Taehyung turned off his engine and got out of his car. “I’m staying with you tonight.” Without question, she nodded her head and grabbed Taehyung’s hand. She was terrified of what was going on. Of course she wanted an explanation, but Taehyung seemed to be protecting her. Therefore, she thought it’d be the best to stay with him until she knows exactly what’s going on.

She opened her apartment door and set her purse and jacket on the table. “I’m gonna go shower… Make yourself at home... I guess.” She mumbled the last part and headed to her bathroom until Taehyung stopped her. “Mind if I join?” Taehyung hinted he needed to talk to her so she said yes. Meanwhile, Jungkook plopped down on the couch with his arm behind his head. “Got any bourbon?” He yelled and she responded, “the cabinet behind you has all the liquor I own.”

Taehyung pulled her into the bathroom and hugged her tightly. “I’m sorry! I fucked everything up for you.”

“Taehyung, what are you talking about?” She worriedly asked. Taehyung looked at the door then quickly turned the shower on. “We have to be quiet. He might hear us.” “Please tell me what’s going on! Who is he? How did he get inside your car?!” She whispers as calmly as she can. “His name is Jeon Jungkook. Next month, he'll be announced king of hell. He’s a very powerful demon and currently, he’s looking for his queen. Someone who can be the mother of his children and someone he can somewhat tolerate. Y/N, he has his eyes on you. You need stay around me, so I can protect you. I know I hurt you not too long ago, but trust me on this one. Jungkook has anger issues and if he gets a hold of you, you will be his punching bag for eternity.”

“Demon? King of hell? Are you hearing yourself right now?” She whispers louder, being unable to control her anger and concern. “I’m not lying, Y/N. How else did he get into my car. Do you remember our conversation in the car? He said he didn't like the human world.”

“What about you? What are you?!”

“I’m a demon too.”

“Prove it because I don’t believe-” Taehyung towers over her and his eyes turn black. His teeth become insanely sharp and black, thick horns start coming out of his head. She stood there, staring at his true form. She reached out and touched his cheek which was freezing cold. “Demons are real?” She faintly whispered. “Take your clothes off. He’s coming.” Taehyung’s out of his clothes in a blink of an eye but she didn’t want to remove her clothes. Taehyung heard Jungkook getting closer, so he ripped her clothes off and pushed her in the shower. He followed behind and pinned her against the wall, kissing her forcefully. “He’s looking through the door, pretend you're enjoying it so we're unsuspicious.” She surprisingly listens and returns the kiss. Taehyung picks her up, and she wraps her legs around his waist, allowing him to enter her. “Moan loud for me, baby.” The girl digs her nails into his shoulder and releases her needy moans.

Jungkook was standing in the door way, watching Taehyung fuck the living out of her. What he would do to be in his position. A part of Jungkook was telling him to kill Taehyung and take his place. However, the other half of him knew that it would create a war between the Kim’s and the Jeon’s. Centuries of feuds have been going on between the two families and it finally ended when Taehyung’s father made a peace offering and Jungkook’s dad happily accepted. From there on, Taehyung and Jungkook grew up together as best friends. Jungkook stopped himself from making a big mistake but continued watching the two fuck.

Taehyung came in her one last time before pulling out and cleaning her up with some water. She clung onto Taehyung because she had no more feeling in her legs. Her clit was burning from the overstimulation, but she wasn’t complaining because it felt so good. He carried her back to her room and wiped her body off with a towel. Jungkook went back to the couch and tried to relax his mind. For some reason, her moans kept playing in his head and before he knew it, he was hard. “Shit!” He angrily muttered.

After tucking Y/N in, Taehyung came to the living room to see what Jungkook was doing. Jungkook was leaning on the balcony railing, staring at the full moon. “If you want, you can crash at my place.” Taehyung said, fiddling with his house keys. “Nah, I think I’ll stay right here… By the way, your girlfriend is hot. If she ever wants to have a threesome, tell her-”

“She doesn’t, Jungkook. One man is good enough for her.”

“That’s too bad. Well, tell her if she gets tired of you she can come to me any time and anywhere.” Jungkook cockishly smiled, raising one eyebrow. “Stop with the jokes, will you?” Taehyung's voice got deeper because he’s had enough of Jungkook’s irritating comments. “I’m going to bed now. Sleep on the couch or wander on the street, I don’t care. Just don’t kill anyone.” Taehyung said before leaving Jungkook alone on the balcony. “I'll try not to.”

Taehyung opened the door and saw Y/N struggling to fall asleep. He quickly got into her bed and pulled her into his comforting embrace. “Shhh, it’s okay. I’m here now.” He carefully laid her face on his chest then ran his fingers through her smooth hair. “I love you so much. You don’t even know how long I’ve been watching you.”

“How long?” She whispers back. “First year of university was when I first saw you. Ever since then, I’ve been looking out for you.” She giggled and wrapped her arms around his body. “Why didn’t you talk to me?” Taehyung smiled, remembering why. “I’m a little shy.” She climbed up his chest and kissed him on the lips. “Is he gone?” She asked, tracing lines on Taehyung’s chest. “He’s gonna crash on your couch. Sorry about him, sweetheart.”

“It’s okay.”

Soon, silence took over the room and the girl fell asleep on Taehyung’s chest. Taehyung continued to play with her hair and trace her back until the door slightly opened. He saw Jungkook in the doorway and sighed. “What do you want now?”

“Her.”

Everything happened rapidly. The door swung open and all Taehyung saw were 2 red eyes staring him down. Before he could react, Jungkook knocked him out and pinned the girl’s body down. He entered into her sore cunt, causing her to wake up. As soon as she saw Jungkook’s face, she started to scream and fight. “Stop! Taehyung, help me!” She shook Taehyung’s body, but he was unresponsive. “What did you do to him?!”

“Shut up and cooperate with me or else I’ll take you to hell.” Jungkook swiftly got into a better position and let his raging boner free. The bed frame began banging against the wall harder and harder each time. Y/N was in a state of shock. She didn’t know what to do. Jungkook viciously thrusted into her and held her down by her neck. “No! Please! Stop!” Jungkook flipped her around and took her from behind. He spanked her ass multiple times, leaving his hand print on her skin. He pulled out and got up from the bed, dragging her along with him. “Look at yourself, you fucking slut.” Jungkook pulled her hair and forced her to look at herself in the mirror. “Watch me fuck you, slut. If I see your eyes aren’t open, I’ll slit your family's throat and send you pictures.”

“No! No! Please don’t! I- I won’t close my eyes, I promise.” Jungkook thrusted in again and had no mercy on her. Tears were rushing down her face but didn't once close her eyes. Jungkook deliberately went faster seeing if she could handle the pain. It took a lot out of her, but she didn’t want to put her family in danger so she listened to every order. Jungkook continued fucking her hard. He could sense the fear that was taking over her body. She was shaking and silently crying, but it merely encouraged him to go faster. At last, he pushed his whole length in and came deep inside her. She squirted around him and collapsed on the floor. “No more, please” “Get on your knees, now!” She whimpered but got on her knees. Jungkook didn’t waste a second to shove his whole cock in her mouth. He grabbed her face and started fucking her throat as fast as he could. After some time, hot cum was running down her throat as he finally pulled out. The poor girl was choking on her own saliva when Jungkook clutched her hair and spat in her mouth.

Jungkook wanted to go for another round, but someone hit his head, knocking him out. Jungkook fell to the floor, revealing a conscious Taehyung. He immediately picked her off the floor and hugged her tightly. She started sobbing on his shoulder. “I’m so sorry. I’m so sorry, baby. We have to leave.” He quietly spoke. Taehyung quickly cleaned her up and gave her some warm clothes to wear. He carried her out of the apartment and into his car. He quickly dialed someone’s number and stepped on the gas.

“Hello?”

“Jimin! Take your fucking brother back to hell. He’s lost his fucking mind. He knocked me unconscious and raped my girlfriend.”

“Holy shit! Where is he?”

Taehyung quickly informs Jimin of Jungkook’s location.

“I’ll pick him up. Just find a safe place, Tae.”

“Yeah, I will.”

—————————————————-

After receiving the call from Taehyung, Jimin rushed to Jungkook. He was still on the floor, passed out. “How hard did you hit him, Taehyung?” Jimin muttered before bringing Jungkook back to hell and chaining him up.

Jungkook woke up with his head pounding. He groaned and looked at his surroundings. “What the hell?” He spoke in a raspy voice. “Wake up, brother. Taehyung informed me you were up to no good.” Right, that bastard Taehyung, he thought. Memories of last night came rushing to his head and he couldn't help but smile. “Where’s Y/N?” Jungkook asked, replaying last night in his head. “Y/N? As in Taehyung’s girlfriend?”

“Don’t call her Taehyung’s girlfriend. Soon, she’ll find her way back to me.”

“Brother, I knew you were absurd, but fucking Taehyung’s girlfriend? Really?”

“You’ve never seen her before, so you won’t understand. But as soon as you get close to her, I ensure you, you won’t be capable of controlling yourself.”

“I’ll see for myself.” Jimin said before getting up and closing the heavy metal door, leaving Jungkook alone.

————————————

1 month later

After the incident with Jungkook, Y/N and Taehyung got into a serious relationship. Every single day, Taehyung worked on becoming stronger to protect his beloved. He felt remorseful for placing her in this kind of situation, so the least he could do is protect her. Y/N was deeply in love with Taehyung. At first, she kept telling herself she only wants him around so he can keep her safe, however she couldn’t help herself. She let go of what he did in the past and focused on the present.

“Taehyung! I’m home!” Taehyung pops his head from the kitchen and she swiftly runs into his embrace. “I missed you.” She pouted her lips and kissed him. “Guess what?”

“What?”

“I missed you more.” She giggles at his response and pecks him all over his face. Taehyung picked her up and sat on the couch with her on his lap. A sweet make out turned into a heated one quickly. She tugged on his shirt then removed it for him and he did the same for her. “How about we try something different?” Taehyung placed her on one of his thighs and placed both of his hands on her ass. “Ride my thigh, angel.” She started moving slowly, unsure of how it might feel. Once her clit started getting some stimulation, she kept going faster and faster, falling apart in Taehyung’s arms. She clenched and came around nothing while Taehyung attacked her tits with his mouth. He left a trail of hickeys all over her upper chest. Taehyung came in his pants just from watching her and feeling her juices leak onto his thigh.

They both eagerly kissed each other until Y/N pulled away. “Can we go out for dinner? I don’t feel like cooking today.” She panted, playing with Taehyung’s hair. “Of course we can.”

——————————————-

The long-awaited day had finally come. The crowd was larger than it ever had been. Everyone came down to watch the ritual and pay their respects to the new king. Torches were pointed downward, symbolizing death. In the middle of the stadium, there was a massive platform. On the platform, there was a throne, a crown, a pentagram and a tied up angel for the sacrifice. Jimin and his father stood side by side, wearing black suits. The crowd went silent when everyone detected a compelling, cold presence. Jungkook revealed himself from the shadows in his true form. He was shirtless with only a thin fabric wrapped around his waist. He walked to the platform and laid down on the pentagram. Everyone knew, this was the beginning of a new chapter.

Moments later Jungkook was screaming in pain. His body became a portal for all the previous kings. They were passing their abilities down to him, resulting in Jungkook's chest and back being burned. Everyone in the audience stood up and started chanting. Jungkook sat upright and headed towards the angel who was pleading for mercy. He manipulated his sharp nail and slit their throat, killing them in a matter of seconds. He attached his mouth onto their neck as the chanting got louder. The warm, thick liquid gliding down his throat was incredibly addictive. Jungkook could feel his power triple in seconds. He tossed the deceased angel away like a rag doll then faced his people. He stretched his wings and grew out his horns.

“I am honoured to be your new king. Thank you to everyone who came to watch the ritual. Please know I’ve acknowledged your presence and respect. I greatly appreciate it.”

Everyone applauded for Jungkook. Surviving the ritual requires an enormous amount of strength. Jungkook has proved to everyone that he is worthy of being king.

——————————-

“Are you ready? I feel like I’ve been waiting forever.” Taehyung said, sitting down on the couch. He was dressed up in his black suit and tie, looking flawless like always. 5 minutes had passed, and he still hadn’t heard a word from her. “Angel? What’s taking so long? Do you need help with your dress?” Taehyung walked back to their shared bedroom only to see Jungkook holding her down with his sharp nail on her neck. “I’m giving you two options, Taehyung. Let me have her, and I won’t hurt her or, she dies, I take her back to hell and torture her for eternity. What will it be, Taehyung?” All Taehyung saw was red. Without realizing, he changed into his demon form and attacked Jungkook. He managed to get him off of her, but strength and power wise, Taehyung was no match. Jungkook punched him over and over, until his nose and jaw was broken.

“Fuck you, Jungkook. I let you have everything! I gave it all up for you because I wanted to be a good friend! One good thing happens in my life and you fucking take it away!” Taehyung yelled, managing to punch him one last time. Y/N sprinted off the bed and rushed to Taehyung’s side. She didn’t care that Jungkook was there, all she cared about was Taehyung. “Taehyung! You’re bleeding! What should I do?! Should I call the ambulance?!” Taehyung looked into her eyes and his heart softened. Tears were streaming down her face. She was actually worried about him. Even after he revealed his true form, she stayed by his side. Does that mean she loves him? Taehyung slightly smiled. “I’ll be alright, love. I’ll heal by tomorrow.”

“No, you won’t.” Jungkook interjected as he got up and kicked Taehyung’s head. “STOP!” She screamed, protecting Taehyung with her body. She wrapped her arms around his head so Jungkook couldn't kick him. “C- can’t you see he’s hurt?! Leave him alone!” She bawled. “I’m not going to leave him alone until he makes a decision. So Taehyung, what will it be?” Taehyung wrapped his arms around her waist, refusing to let her go. “There are billions of other people in the world. Why do you want MY girlfriend?!”

“Don’t question me, Taehyung. Now give me her, or I’ll have to forcefully take her.”

Y/N started sobbing on Taehyung’s shoulder. “Please don’t take him away from me. I love him. Please don’t.” She begged, her tears staining Taehyung’s shirt. Jungkook was slowly starting to lose his temper. He massaged his temples then grabbed her arm, prying her off and away from Taehyung. “If you don’t come back with me to hell, I’ll kill Taehyung right here right now. Or better yet, I’ll make you help me kill him.”

Y/N began to shake. “Please don’t hurt him. I’ll go back with you.”

“No! Y/N he’s going to hurt you! Jungkook you can kill me but leave her alone after I die. You break the promise and will die too.”

“No, Taehyung! I can’t let you die! You can’t leave me alone!” Jungkook pushed the girl back and kicked Taehyung in the stomach. “If you want her so badly, you’re going to have to fight me.” With that, Jungkook turned around, picked her up and disappeared. “NO! Shit! Shit!” Taehyung cursed at himself.

Once again, he failed to protect his love.

——————————————————————————

Uhhh, hi🤠

This is terrible and I’m sorry if it doesn’t live up to your expectations. I completely understand because many people have been waiting for this fic to release and it’s not even good. Anyways, I hope you enjoyed what part 1 has to offer. At first, I didn’t want to make this into a series because I’m very inconsistent. However, I had a sickening plot in mind that I really wanted to do, so the next best option was to make this into a series.

I know, not a lot of Jimin was in this, but the next couple of parts will have him.

xoxo,

naina❣️

[violettelueur]

— JUJUTSU KAISEN EPISODE TWO || FOR MYSELF

↳ featuring : itadori yuji + fushiguro megumi + gojo satoru + ryomen sukuna from jujutsu kaisen

↳ warnings : mentions of violence and EXTREME grammar issues

↳ form : story

↳ published : 09 february

↳ pronouns : she/her

↳ word count : 3.0k

↳ synopsis : within the jujutsu world, there were three famous clans to be aware of, the Kamo clan, Zenin clan and the Gojo clan. However, unknown to many sorcerers there was one last family that was known to be apart of the three, only for them to disappear after the golden era leading some to speculate that they had died in battle after the sealing of ryomen sukuna, but....

↳ previous episode : ryomen sukuna

↳ next episode : girl of steel

↳ barista’s notes : since you loved the first one so much, i decided to do episode two for you guys ╲ʕ·ᴥ·　╲ʔ also i am now addicted to genshin impact and right now, i am on adventure rank 19 and already cleared the ‘stormterror lair’ thing ʕ ㅇ ᴥ ㅇʔ i hope you enjoy this cup of classic black coffee (jujutsu kaisen) and come again soon!

BEFORE READING, I NEED YOU TO BE AWARE OF THIS:

1. the whole story belongs to Gege Akutami and the credits go to them and them only

2. the spell curses used belong to Tite Kubo due to them being the ‘Kidos’ being used on the manga and anime ‘Bleach’

3. this whole thing might be confusing and please don’t expect a part three because i will do it when i am ready or feel like i can at the right time ʕ ᵒ ᴥ ᵒʔ

4. i don’t know, if i am going to add this onto my masterlist since this was just for fun to be honest!

“What’s the situation?” 

All of a sudden, a new voice came into the area leading you to turn your head to the side to find a rather tall male standing next to Fushiguro. From a quick glance, you could immediately inform yourself that had spiky white hair with a black blindfold covering his eyes, as he carried a paper bag on his arm while wearing a similar outfit to Fushiguro meaning he was another sorcerer.

“Gojo-sensei?! Why are you here?” Fushiguro asked in surprise, as he turned to look at what you assumed to be his teacher leading to the shadows around him to immediately disappear from sight.

“Gojo…” you muttered under your breath as you looked at the two male sorcerers right in front of you in horror as you came to the realisation of the situation you were facing.

‘Mother…..I’ve been found…..’

                                                   ꕥ

“Hey!’ the teacher cheerfully greeted while waving an arm to his student as a short greeting. “I wasn’t planning on coming, but man, you’re roughed up,” Gojo explained, before leaning forward as if he was taking a closer look at Fushiguro to which then caused lead to his hand to go into his pocket as he proceeded to pull out his mobile phone. “I should show the second years, face this way!” the sorcerer playfully stated as he began to take a multitude of photos of the ‘roughed up’ student, leading to the subject of his images to turn away while covering his face with his arm.

Looking at the scene with anxiety looming above you like a rainy cloud, you swiftly turned your head back to see if you could find a way out without both of them as well as Itadori noticing as they were distracted for the time being.

‘Shit, the only way I can escape is either jumping from this floor or going through the large gap behind me, but that’s gonna make them notice. What am I going to do?!’

“Ah! Miss, I know you are already there, so no need to escape!” Gojo suddenly stated, causing you to quickly turn back with widened eyes - surprised at the fact that he knew what was on your mind - to find the teacher waving at you with the same greeting he gave to Fushiguro as if he had known you for some time, like an old friend one would say.

‘Ah…..what a drag….’ you thought, as you then carefully picked up the katana that had landed in front of you when the curse was exorcised before slowly sliding it back into the casing that was behind your back.

“The higher-ups wouldn’t such up with a special-grade cursed object gone missing, so I stopped by while doing some sightseeing,” Gojo explained while looking down his phone like he was checking something when in your mind, you assumed that he was going through the photos that he took of Fushiguro due to his jolly smile that was displayed on his face.

‘Maybe, if you damn sorcerers got the cursed object sooner before the damn protective seal was ripped off, WE WOULDN’T BE IN THIS SITUATION!’ you argued in your head, as you slowly began to realise the reasonings why your mother never took a liking to the higher-ups, to begin with.

‘Those higher-ups are so useless, all they do is command other sorcerers to do their dirty work while acting if they are superior dear. If I could, I would kill all of them’

“So, did you find it?” the blindfolded teacher asked, as he looked up from his device only for your schoolmate to interrupt the sorcerer’s conversation as he raised up his hand in a guilty manner. “Um...Sorry, but I ate it,” Itadori confessed, as he then pointed to himself to emphasise the statement leading Fushiguro to look down to the floor in what seemed to be in shame while Gojo turned to look at Itadori with a shocked expression.

“For real?” Gojo asked, trying to make sure that it wasn’t some sort of joke.

“For real,” Itadori and Fushiguro answered simultaneously, confirming that it wasn’t a joke at all.

In a complete rage, you slowly made your way towards your schoolmate before grabbing his shoulders with as much might as you could as you then turned him around to face you. 

“I don’t know who broke that damn seal I placed on that stupid little hut, but maybe if you haven’t taken that finger, we wouldn’t be in this situation where these two dumbass sorcerers would be in our lives right now!!” you screamed in frustration leading to the two mentioned sorcerers to look at you with dumbfounded looks painted on their faces while Itadori just peered at you with an extremely surprised expression.

During the school hours, Itadori had seen you a few times around the hallways and in his class when you had to collect something for another teacher. From what he could read off, you were the calm and collective type, someone who was on top of their academics while being able to maintain close relationships with other students between the three-years that Sugisawa Municipal Highschool offered. Even though you came off a bit blunt from time to time when calling something or someone a ‘drag’, the students liked that from you since that meant you were being honest to them as well as to yourself, just like the time when you surprised everyone when you rejected being part of the school’s council's committee much to the President’s begging. 

“But...shouldn’t you like sorcerers since you seem like one?” Itadori questioned with a confused tone, leading you to look at him with a rather both understandable but irritated expression which caused him to be nervous somewhat due to you being out of character.

“Just because I am one, doesn’t mean I like any of them!” you counted back, as you pointed towards the direction of Fushiguro and Gojo before continuing with “it was such a drag when Fushiguro was here this afternoon and it’s more of one now that two of them are here!” as you then let go of his shoulders before turning away to lean against the crooked metal balcony to relax your vocal cords after screaming so much.

Taking the opportunity, Gojo leaned to the side as if he was inspecting Itadori like he was painting before coming closer to the teenage boy with his hand on his chin as if he was thinking what he could do now. “Hehe, damn, it really did combine with you. That’s hilarious,” Gojo amusingly stated, causing you to turn back to look at the scene with a dumbfounded expression on his face.

‘What is hilarious about the situation right now? This isn’t something to find assuming Gojo’

“Anything off with your body?” Gojo questioned, after straightening his back leading itadori to inspect his body for a quick few seconds.

“Not particularly,” Itadori answered.

“Can you swap out with Sukuna?” Gojo then asked, leading you to then fully turn back to look at the special-grade sorcerer with extreme confusion and astonishment as you begin to wonder what hit Gojo’s head before coming here to the school.

“Sukuna?” Itadori confusingly stated as he looked at Gojo with a perplexed expression.

“The curse you stupidly ate,” you quickly answered, as you gave Itadori a serious glance before letting out a sigh of frustration leading Fushguro to quickly tug your arm as you dropped down to his height before you snatched your arm back, worried about what the Zenin relative would do to you.

“Oh…Yeah, I think I can do that,” Itadori clarified, as he placed his hand on his hip before giving a nod to emphasise this statement.

Stepping back, Gojo suddenly began to stretch in a weird position, which suddenly reminded you of a certain baseball player, but you couldn’t recall who before stating with confidence, “then give us ten seconds, once ten seconds are up, come back to us.”

‘Great, I’m going to die young…” you jokingly thought, as you looked to the side with a grim look as if you were staring at the death ripper at this very moment in time.

“But..” Itadori wavered, as he started to be concerned about Gojo's request since he didn’t know what damage Sukuna could do or how the teacher was going to be at the end of it. “Don’t worry, I’m the strongest,” Gojo confidently stated, leading to another grim look to appear on your face, as you were getting annoyed at his constant confidence even though you knew he had the right to be.

“Megumi, hold on to this,” Gojo demanded before throwing the bag towards his student, leading to the catcher to catch it with his hands before looking down on the paper bag with curiosity.

“Megumi?” you quietly questioned as you suddenly discovered that the sorcerer next to you had a feminine name - since it was quite rare to hear a male have a name that was generally used for the female gender. 

“What is this?” Fushiguro asked before his teacher stretched his arms right in front of both of you before answering, “Kikufuku from Kikusuian! It’s Sendai’s speciality, and it’s super good! I recommend the zunda and cream flavour!”

‘So...this man bought mochi when people here were dying, ah...that was dumbass~’

“It’s not a souvenir, I’m going to eat it on the bullet train home,” Gojo stated as if he needed an explanation for his actions. However, what got your full attention was the black markings that were gradually coming onto Itadori’s skin before he suddenly jumped up into the air while Gojo was still explaining his reasoning for this purchase.

“Uh Oh~” you commented, as you stared at the sky with widened eyes before Fushiguro screamed for his teacher’s attention at the curse directing an attack from behind. However, it seemed like his teacher wasn’t fazed on second as he continued explaining the reason why he bought the mochi, “Kikufuku’s not like other souvenirs…”

‘I THOUGHT YOU SAID IT WASN’T A SOUVENIR!’ you screamed in your mind before ducking your head down as Itadori’s body finally crashed back to the ground, trying to make sure that the debris didn’t blind you at all. Quickly looking back up to check what was happening, you suddenly came into eye to eye contact with a bright shade of ruby mixed with a hint of malevolence. You came to the realisation that it was Sukuan who was now in front of you while Gojo was casually sitting on his hack like a horse.

“And the whipped cream inside is simply exquisite..” Gojo continued talking, causing you to give off a confused expression on what really was going on inside the special-grade sorcerer’s mind and what his main priority was right now. Suddenly, Sukuna made a 180 degree turn to aim for another attack, yet the second Gojo clasped his hands together, he once again missed and as well as the other attacks he tried to execute.

Unexpectedly, Gojo appeared behind Sukuna’s back before leaning back to say something within his ear, “my student and a little sorcerer’s watching, so I’m going to show off a little.” Instantaneously, Gojo disappeared once again before grabbing the curse vessel’s arm as he then processed to hit Sukuna’s face with his arm, leading to Itadori’s body to slightly fling itself up in the air.

‘What is he manipulating? Time? No, that’s not it….is it like a vacuum? But that means he would be controlling empty space with no particles…’

Suddenly, you slightly noticed the slight manipulated on the air as Gojo’s arm begins to swing leading you to come to the conclusion that Gojo’s cursed technique might be the control of space at an atomic level, leading to a massive pressure to hit the King of Curses as his body smashed into the only part of metal railing that wasn’t bent.

“For crying out loud, you jujutsu sorcerers are always trouble, no matter what era!” Sukuna declared as he, once again, jumped into the air while somehow carrying massive pieces of the broken wall along with him before slamming down at Gojo’s direction. “Though that doesn’t mean much to me,” Sukuna arrogantly stated, with a smirk on his face as some of the windows processed to smash. 

However, the second the thin debris started to clear up, Sukuna’s expression quickly twisted into shock as a brightly lit barrier enclosed his opponent, yet he wasn’t the one that had a surprised expression on his face. Turning back around, Gojo found you kneeling next to Fushguro with a flat palm on the ground as your curse energy flowed down to the ground as if the box just didn’t just end on the ground that they were standing on right now.

“This is such a drag,” you muttered before standing up straight as you observed the walls making sure that there wasn’t a single crack when the rocks could have hit. “Seven, eight, nine, ten,” you counted and right on time there was a sudden change in curse energy pressure around you leading you to come to the conclusion that Itadori was now switching back, surprising Sukuan once again at the circumstances that he was in.

“Oh, was everything okay?” Itadori innocently asked, one the marking disappearing leading you to undo your curse spell as the walls slowly started to fade away with little blue parts flying away like they were little fireflies. 

“I’m shocked, you really can control it!” Gojo cheered while Fushiguro looked onto the scene with such surprise and confusion on what was happening.

“He’s kind of annoying, though,” Itadori commented as he continuously smacked his head, “I can hear his voice.”

‘And is smacking your head gonna make it better, idiot?’

“It’s a miracle that’s all he’s doing,” Gojo stated, with a smirk on his face as he began to walk towards Itadori before suddenly placing his middle and index finger on the salmon-haired forehead, causing Itadori to freeze for a second before giving in to the suddenly unconscious feeling empowering his body to which lead to his falling within the teacher’s arms.

“What did you do?” Fushiguro asked with slight worry in his tone.

“Knocked him out,” Gojo then answered. “If he isn’t possessed by Sukuna when he wakes up, he might have potential as a vessel,” the white-haired sorcerer explained as he then turned to his student with a question in mind. 

“Now, I have a question for you, what should we do with him and the little miss, who is trying to run away?” 

Confused, Fushiguro turned around, only to find you with your back turned to both of them as your foot halted the second his teacher had mentioned you. Turning back around Fushiguro then looked at his teacher with a serious expression displayed on his face, “even if he is a vessel, jujutsu regulations demand Itadori be executed. However, I don’t want to let him die!”

“Your personal feelings?” Gojo playful asked his student with a smirk on his face before Fushguro quickly answered, “yes, please do something about this.”

“Hehe~ Now it’s a request from a previous student,” Gojo stated, as he proceeded to lift up the unconscious teenager onto this shoulder. “Leave it to me! But also, what do you want to do with Miss runaway?” Gojo commented, once again leading you to halt your movement as you surprisingly made some distance between you and the two sorcerers now staring at your back.

‘Ah…..caught again…..’

Turning around, you looked towards the two sorcerers with a nonchalant expression displayed before giving them the hand gesture of ‘shooing them away. “There’s nothing you got to do with me, take Itadori and make sure to do what you’re planning to do, don’t drag me into your mess,” you commented, as you turned around once again, only to find the infamous sorcerer to be standing right in front of you with a cheeky smile on his face.

“Come on~ Jujtutsu Tech is so much fun, you get to make a few friends and you get to bug Megumi!” Gojo cheerfully tried to persuade you, only for you to scoff in annoyance at this futile attempt to invite you to the school that your mother informed you all about.

“I rather not be near anyone belonging with the three clans,” you irritatedly declared as you placed your hand on your hip trying to keep a distance between you and the teacher. However, this statement of yours caused Gojo and Fushiguro to look at you with surprise painted on their faces. How much did you know about the Jujutsu world? How did you have the acknowledgement of the three great families? Who were you and how much you had the strength to stop Sukuna’s attack within a millisecond?

“L/N!” Fushiguro stated, leading you to turn to him with an angered expression on your face which caused Gojo to peer at you with seriousness clouding his entire body.

“L/N huh?” Gojo curiously questioned, “no wonder your curse technique is familiar to what those old documents have told.”

Taken back to his discovery, you turned back to look at Gojo will a deadpan expression leading him to then carefully suggest, “Since you are part of the lost L/N clan, I won’t tell the higher-ups about your existence but rather have you twist your name slightly when you enrol, how does that sound?”

Glancing at the teacher with suspicion, you tried to hide the gut-wrenching feeling that there was not a possible chance of you now escaping from this. You had been caught and found and there was no way to lie yourself out of this situation you were in, not when Gojo had discovered who you really were while Fushiguro seemed to look clueless on what was going on between his teacher and the female sorcerer in front of him.

Letting out a sigh of frustration once again, you looked up at the sky, letting the same moonlight bathe your face as it did for Sukuna a few minutes ago.

“What a drag”

© violettelueur 2021 : written and published by violettelueur - do not steal or repost