#and can sense if someone takes revenge in their name too

[dutybcrne]

Okay, decision made:

He almost primarily uses his Abyssal abilities, and near exclusively in the way a Cryo Abyss Mage/Cryo Herald would, and had relied upon them alone, up until he was given an Anemo Delusion once he'd become of age.

[rinhaler]

so my ex just used me to get better and then dated someone else once he was okay, so i’m requesting a toji fucking megumi’s ex gf to teach his son a lesson, or megumi’s gf ends up taking “Break my heart? i’ll be your step mom.” too seriously 🫶

fuck ur ex fuck him i hate him idek know him but i hate him!!!! enjoy the filth <3

warnings: 18+ MDNI, age gap, implied cheating, vaginal sex, revenge sex, clit rubbing, pet names, praise, slight cucking, creampie.

words: .8k

“Oh. God, T-Toji—!” you cry out as his cock buries deeper and deeper inside of you.

The prominent veins stimulate your walls with every thrust while his cockhead pummels against your g-spot with perfect precision. He doesn’t miss a beat, either, he possesses an endless supply of stamina and he’s using it to his advantage.

He silences you with a nasty, drool infused kiss as your tongues tangle effortlessly. It’s hard to feel guilty about letting your ex’s dad rail you when it feels this good. It was a messy breakup, and yet, you didn’t feel the need to cut off Toji. You broke up with Megumi, after all. Not his dad.

Though you didn’t expect to be lifted onto his chest of drawers when you came over and fucked within an inch of your life. You decided to come over and collect the last of your things and ended up staying a little longer than planned when Toji offered you a glass of wine. In hindsight, you’ve realised that he offered and spilled it on you just to get you upstairs.

“Kid’s a fuckin’ idiot,” he snarls, resting his forehead against yours. “Perfect little pussy, baby, so fucking perfect.”

You watch him as he pulls his head away from yours and licks his thumb, lowering it to rub your puffy clit without slowing his thrusts. Your head falls back against the wall behind you, feeling lighter than air and losing all sense of control as he fucks into you slow and deep.

He smiles at you as you place your hands on his shoulders, moving his lips to softly kiss each of them.

“Knew he’d fuck things up eventually,” he announces, confidently, “The minute I saw ya, I knew Megumi wasn’t gonna be able to handle you, darlin’.”

“Fuck, Toji, h-have you been waiting for this?” you ask him, already knowing the answer by the way he smirks.

“You think too much.” he tells you, leaning forwards to make out with you again. He’s right, of course, but the harder he ploughs into you the muddier your thoughts become. All you can think about is him. There’s inklings of regret as Megumi flashes through your mind. He sees it behind your eyes, he must do. Because soon after he grabs your face in one large hand until your cheeks pucker. “Stop thinkin’ about the piece of shit, he’s not thinking about you.”

“Oh my God…” you huff, knowing he’s right. You wrap your arms around his neck and pull him closer again, moaning into his mouth as your walls begin to tighten. “Make me— wanna cum—” you tell him, earning another passion induced kiss and faster thrusts.

“Yeah? Wanna cum, baby?” he asks, and you nod in turn. “Can I cum in this pretty cunt?”

“P-Please, yes please!”

The moaning from both of you is raucous as he chases his own high and forces you into yours. You cream around him beautifully. He still can’t believe what an idiot Megumi was to let you go. But he won’t complain, not when he’s emptying his balls into your gorgeous little pussy.

You pant and move the hair out of his face being stuck down by his sweaty forehead. He laughs, softly, and you can’t help but join him when the reality sinks in. Though he helps you down and picks up your underwear from the floor. He grabs his shirt while you slip into them, feeling particularly vile when you feel his warm seed seep into the gusset of your panties.

He watches you as you pick up your jacket and your phone.

“You’re on your phone already?” he laughs. “Don’t tell me I was just a cheap fuck.” he teases you, and you smile.

“No, sorry.” you smile back as you let the intrusive thoughts whirring through your mind win. You were going to delete his number, though you’re glad you didn’t as you hit dial on Megumi’s number. You’re pleased Toji doesn’t hear the faint ringing sound, and you’re even happier when you see the time going up on your screen, seeing that Megumi actually answered.

“hello?” you hear him say a few times, muffling the sound as you put it in your jacket pocket.

“I can’t believe we had sex, Toji.” you speak, doing all you can to not smirk as you’re sure Megumi’s heart just dropped. “You won’t tell Megumi, will you? I’m so mad at him… I hate him… but I don’t want to hurt him.”

“Don’t worry, I’m not telling him.” Toji nods, agreeing. “Can’t lie though, I wouldn’t mind fucking you again.” he chuckles.

“Then…” you approach him again, kissing him. “Fuck me again, Toji. Wan’ your cock again. Want you t’cum in me again. Need you… s’bad.” you moan quietly as his hands begin exploring your body. He lifts you up and throws you down onto the bed, pulling his jeans down again.

“Fuck me, princess, thought you’d never ask.”

You begin kissing again, unsure how much of that Megumi heard. But you make sure to keep your volume sufficiently high as you make out with his dad.

It’s the least he deserves for cheating.

© 2023 rinhaler

[artsninspo]

FORGIVELESS - III - GIVE A FUCK 'BOUT WHAT YOU PREFER🥀

Full Masterlist

RIO MASTERLIST

PREVIOUS CHAPTER

II - GIVE A FUCK 'BOUT WHAT YOU PREFER🥀

Pairing: Rio (Good Girls) X Reader

Word Count: ~2.6K

Warning: NSFW, mature themes & 🌶️ 🌶️

Summary: Confronted with the realities of your actions you have to deal with the aftermath of your choices, what you want and what will be.

You breathe fresh air for what feels like the first time and smile as you have a reverie of the time you had with Rio last night and the kiss you shared before getting out of his car and into yours. You can still feel the effects of Rio all over you. Your husband had never done anything like that. It was your first time being fucked. It had started as a bid for revenge and ended in delirium. No guilt creeped into your consciousness. It felt like that was a drop in the bucket. Your phone reads that it's 10:00 am, sighing as you look up at the door leading into your home.  It's the last place you want to be right now. A reminder of your joke of a marriage and your lying piece of shit husband. You feel a headache coming in when you mull over your options. Your reluctance to blow up the relationship is caused by a variety of reasons. First you’d have to tell your family and admit it to someone apart from Rio. They’d pity you and you'd be the topic of too many discussions. You’d have to move back in with your mom for a while and deal with a few months of counselling before a divorce.

You're in the middle of your decision when the door connecting the house to the garage swings open. Your mouth gapes at the sight of a visibly upset James.

“Where the hell have you been?” He snaps coming to the car. “I called you about fifty fucking times!” he snaps glaring at you as you walk out of the car. He scans you looking for a clue to what's up.

You sigh heading into the house “Relax James, I spent the night at the Spa.”

He frowns now even more peeved. He didn’t remember a time where it was James and not babe, baby, bae, love, honey or all the other plethora of pet names you used as endearment. “James?”

You look over at him.“That’s your name isn't it?”

“You never call me that!” He snaps.

“Well then don't curse at me when I pull into the garage!” you shout heading up the stairs.

“I was about to call the police. If you decide to stay the night at the spa you call it the decent thing to do so I know where my WIFE is” he says making the hair on the back of your neck stand up. How dare he throw around the word WIFE so carelessly when he treated you as an afterthought regularly. You cast him a disgusted look over your shoulder.

“I’m here now, so relax!” you shout heading to your office. Your patience for him and his inquisition is wearing thin.

“I called a few times,” he continues.

“My phone was on DND. I didn't think you’d be calling. You usually don't when you're on the job. I figured you wouldn't even be home before me. How was work?” you comment throwing the ball back in his court.

“Good, you know, same old same old” he shrugs.

“More late nights? What about that retreat you were supposed to go on?” you ask hoping he’ll be out of your hair long enough for you to make a decision.

“The trip is likely, want to come with me?” His offer is a surprise. After months of pleading for attention the day after you step out he concedes.

“I don’t think so, it’s going to be winter soon and the changing climates back and forth confuses my immune system” you shrug, declining the opportunity. You're done with chasing him around. The sound of metal on granite gets your attention and you see your wedding and engagement bands. Now it makes sense. His demeanour, sudden interest and questions. When you left yesterday you hadn’t quite made up your mind. 

“Why weren’t you wearing your rings?” He asks with some audacity.

“Are you serious?” You scoff. “When you go to the spa they have all these oils and stuff and they have you take off your rings for a hand massage.” You lie.

“You shouldn’t be anywhere without them” he says with no reason to distrust you except for his own guilty conscience.

“Can you have them cleaned?” You ask not rushing to put them back on.

“Yeah I can. I’m off today, we should do something. Maybe look for that puppy you were talking about?” He offers on edge.

“I have to study for my certification, maybe we can go out for dinner?” You smile to appease him.

“I told you a million times you don’t need to work” he says. “When we have kids-” he says and your reaction is visceral. You regret not having someone fuck him up. How dare he step out and take part in an affair then talk to you about kids.

“What was that?” James asks.

“You’re never home but you want kids? And we haven’t discussed it in a few years” you snap.

“So now you don’t wear your rings or want to have my kids” He’s wounded by reality.

“I told you why I wasn’t wearing the rings. And no I don’t want to think about having kids with your schedule” or ever. You snap, omitting the final thoughts.

He scoffs. “Now I’m thinking you weren’t wearing your rings on purpose.” 

“James, think whatever you want and don’t talk to me about kids until you can commit to being home.” You snap walking away from him.

I’m gonna need round two with your 🐱

Rio

You smile at the message locking your phone and making the mental note to change his name in your contacts. You’re standing in front of the mirror in your bathroom when James emerges placing your rings on the vanity as he takes a seat in the corner of the bathroom. You put on the rings ignoring him.

“Didn’t realise you were so unhappy” he comments.

“That makes you a shitty husband” you remark.

“Now I’m shitty” he sits forward.

“Yeah, you’re never home and then you accuse me of not wearing my rings with other implications. Then try to talk about starting a family.” you double down.

“Babe,” he says. “You come in at 10 am, I see your rings on your nightstand and you’re not answering my calls” he states.

“I already told you the truth. There’s no logical reason for me to leave my rings or not answer your calls” you deflect giving him an opportunity to be honest. He pauses for a second, his guilt creeping in. His silence is affirming and you turn back to your computer.

“You haven’t greeted me or kissed me good morning” he adds.

“You’re implying I have something to hide. I don’t want to kiss you” you respond without looking away.

“Can we go out tonight?”

“No” you respond. It’s totally unlike you. It takes everything in you not to let the cat out of the bag. Not to explode about him screwing another woman for six months according to your calculations. Not to throw your indiscretions in his face, to scorn him further. You do your best to show restraint to keep your life intact at least for now.

 ….

You complete your stretches and sit up checking your phone only to see a goodmorning message from James, it’s a rarity as was the kiss he placed on your cheek in the morning. Scrolling past that notification you stop at the one notification from the person you want. Rio.

I’ll be there by the time the class ends.

Ria

You smile seeing the message from Rio although you've changed his name to something less conspicuous on your phone. It’s been almost a week since your last rendezvous. James has been breathing down your neck more attentively than ever since you left your rings at home and spent the night elsewhere. There’s been no time to talk or reconnect with Rio as much as you want to. James has been talking about the future more too and trying to initiate intimacy much to your disdain. After being ignored for so long you're not excited by his renewed interest isn’t exciting - it’s manipulative.

Finished freshening up from your yoga session you get a call and see it's James. Your heart wants to send him to voicemail but if you want more time before making a decision you know you have to answer. 

“Hey baby” you smile, sounding excited. It's a ruse, the same one you’ve been employing to buy back your invisibility.

“Hey baby, how was class?” James asks.

“Good, are you expecting a package or something?” You respond.

“I have to be expecting a package to call my wife?” he says like he has been the past few days.

“No, you're just usually busy. I don't get midday check ins so I was thinking something was wrong” you explain.

“That's gonna change, I love you and I want you to know I always have time for you” he says trying to be sweet, you gag internally.

“Mhm” you respond grabbing your bag only to turn to see Rio has slipped into the private change room facility.

“Mhm, what?” James asks, trying to elicit flirtation. You motion your on the phone to Rio but that doesn't make him hesitate he crowds your space taking two handfuls of ass and leaning down to kiss you.

“I’ll see you when you get home, we can talk then�� you say.

“Alright, I love you” James says as you look into Rio's eyes.

“Love you” you respond, hanging up and Rio smiles.

“That’s messed up” Rio comments, deepening the kiss. You shrug your shoulders and Rio chuckles. “This is about to be more messed up,” he adds. “Why is he still calling and telling you he loves you” Rio probes.

“Because he doesn't know what I did” you respond.

“When are you gonna tell him?” Rio asks lifting your dress.

“I don’t know yet” you admit as he sets you on one of the changing room counters. You know what he's about to do and smile.

“Well I need some good pussy, don't let him keep you from me” Rio says getting a condom from his pocket. He takes no time at all lining up his manhood with your entrance. Youre ready to accept and he’s the perfect fit as he slides in. you moan in pleasure closing your eyes, thankful for what's to come. You keep quiet as much as possible holding Rio close as he drills you lustfully. His kiss is possessive and wanton, keeping you needy. “Like that?” he whispers in your ear.

“Mhhhm” you gasp trying to keep quiet while in public.

“Tell me you love this dick” he says as you switch positions and he drills you from behind.

“I love it” you say without question it's been too long. You’ve never been this spontaneous or reckless. 

“Fuck” he groans close. Holding onto the counter you brace for his thrust embracing every second. Being wanted to the point of no restraining is so sexy and so sensual after being deprived of that experience. Rio places a kiss on your shoulder and you turn to kiss him again, throwing it back to add to the impact. He groans and the slapping of skin gets a little loud. His body stiffens just as you feel the rush of an orgasm he gets his. He leaves it in for a few minutes as you allow him to catch his breath. Hardly stated he leaves you and you groan at the loss of contact. When you turn away he’s back in his pants looking at you like he needs more rounds. Wrapping your hands around his neck you bring his head down to yours happy for the genuine affection.

“Thank you” you mutter as he gives you another kiss. Rio couldn't think of a better deal, sex with no strings and with a woman that thanked him instead of blowing up his phone. What the fuck was James thinking cheating on this kind of a woman.

“No problem, call me anytime” he jokes with a smile as you readjust your clothes. You find him looking at you in the mirror as you review your appearance.

“What?” you ask.

“Come see me at the club tonight for round two” Rio says needing more of you. He couldn't stop thinking about you. You had him rubbing out orgasms, something he hadn't done in over a decade. He didn't need to. Women readily made themselves available to his needs.

“Can’t James’ has been all over me lately. I give it another week before he levels out.” you explain.

Rio shrugs. “Fuck James”

“Exactly, but I can't meet you tonight. I’ll figure something out” you promise.

“I don't like that shit” Rio comments ready for round two right now.

“Don't kill the high you just gave me.” You pout looking up at him.

“I need more than twenty minutes with you, basically fully dressed. I need you naked so I can enjoy you, and I need it more than once.” He states candidly giving you butterflies.

“I want that too, give me two days” you ask, rubbing his head.

“Two days or I pop up.” he warns.

“Deal” you agree.

You leave the yoga studio with everyone none the wiser of your indiscretions. Rio walks you to your car and watches you drive away. He didn't like having to wait on another man's timeline. It was a new experience and one he didn't particularly enjoy.

When James gets home he finds you dancing around to music with your headphones on. You're wearing a healthy glow and he puts his bag down getting behind you. You jump out of his reach terrified until you realise it's him. Hand to heart you catch your breath. It’s another hit to his ego when you don't come back to him.

“You're home early” you remark instead. “I haven't finished dinner”

“We can go out” he offers with a smile.

“I’m on a meal plan don't you remember?” you ask gaslighting him.

“So what can we do together?” he asks, frustrated.

“Is spending time with her here so bad?” you ask.

“We could have a bath together, you like that” he offers.

“James” you roll your eyes and he takes a deep breath.

“What?” he says and you know he’s worn thin.

“No, I just don't want to take a bath with you.” you refuse him again.

“Why not?!” he asks.

“We haven't been together in months” you remind him of his doing. “It’s had benefits with my yoga practice and I’m exploring it still” you lie to him like he’s been lying to you flagrant and apologetic. 

“How can you make that kind of decision without me?”

“James, you’ve been working and had no time to touch me before I found purpose in it”

“You're bullshitting me right now”

“Why is it that I respect you and you question me?” you ask and he sighs. His phone rings and he silences it only for the sequence to repeat a few more times. You check the time.

“It’s probably Japan” you suggest and his eyes bug out. Your eyes hold him without implication that you know and he loses his confidence answering as he walks away. His phone goes off for the remainder of the night and you sleep peacefully with dreams of Rio. James sleeps recklessly tossing and turning because his wife doesnt want to be touched and his sidepiece needs attention. He feels crazy and stressed exactly how he should feel while you sleep, still guilt free. Still going to do as you please, to hell with what James prefers.

Author's note: THX for reading, reblog, comment, vote. Let me know what you think James and Rio's next moves are 💖

NEXT CHAPTER

TAGS: @meadows5 @wnbweasley

[cannellee]

HII!!! i’m literally in LOVE with your alpha mikey hcs!!! (^ ^) what if mikey has a super sweet and cuddly omega that can’t help but want to cling to him 24/7, she just can’t get enough of him! whenever she sees him she releases her super strong n sweet pheromones and chirps loudly as she runs up to him, her heart is so full of love for her alpha it feels like it’s gonna explode!! every time she sees mikey she just swoons for him🩷

TOKYO REVENGERS OMEGAVERSE ☆

୨୧ alpha! mikey x omega! reader

— his reaction to a cute and extremely in love omega

my masterlist : ☆

(I looved writing this, this was such a cute idea. I hope I quite did what you had in mind!)

mikey would actually be ecstatic to have such a cute omega by his side! he's used to the harshness of his lifestyle and violent confrontations all the time, emma being his only source of warmth. mikey grows so attached to you and he lets you know it by how affectionate he is with you.

seeing you being so desperate for his attention, literally crawling over his laps just to get head pats and his eyes on you only, he feels all weird. it's still mind blowing that you reach for him in every occasion, look for him first in crowds and calls his name so happily like that.

he doesn't think he deserves all that love, you would be better off with a more gentle alpha, who doesn't have tons of enemies waiting for an opportunity to rip his throat off. someone who can give you a stable life and never worry you because of his night meetings he'd rather keep you out of.

still, he couldn't imagine his life without you in it. you're such a bundle of joy, your mellow voice and big doe eyes always do something to him. he never refuses any of your requests. you can hold his hands, play with his hair, ask for his food... everything is yours. he might crack a joke or too about how smitten you are, supposedly trying to make you shy, but you only nod excitedly and agree with a big yes. how cute is his omega.

mikey absolutely loves being the center of your life, despite what he tries to tell himself. he's aware your whole world revolves around him and he's thrilled to see your eyes always on him, even when you're in bigger groups. he would never take advantage of your attachment for him, but he does like to see you immediately cut one of your conversations short when he calls your name : watching you whip your head so fast in his direction, flashing him a big smile. he has that strange sense of purpose and pride every time you do, his chest feels so hot, why did you even take an interest in him when you're this precious and desirable? any alpha would kill for an omega like you.

and your scent... mikey doesn't think he has ever smelled something this good in his life. everything about you reminds him of home in the best ways possible. he can't believe he's the one drawing such a sweet scent out of you. it always amplifies in his presence, when he praises you, hugs you or kisses your temple. he can't get enough of it and he feels so lucky your pheromones never subside when you're together.

the adoration is mutual, you can't even imagine a life without mikey either. he's so strong and reliable, how can you not love him ? he teases you in ways only he can make you blush, pervert hands grabbing your ass or dirty promises in the crack of your ears. mikey feels really privileged to be able to touch and hold you in such ways, to be this intimate with you. he does things he would break another's arm's off for even imagining them.

he wants to protect that laugh of yours and wishes you will always look at him with heart eyes. he wants to make you feel safe and comfortable around him, no matter what he does outside.

he's quiet about his fondness for you, but he makes it up by snatching you up by the waist, carrying you in his arms, spending the day cuddling with you, literally breathing nothing but your pheromones. he never complains about your little 'outbursts' of affection towards him. he lets you grab his wrist - where his scent glands are - and rubs it all over yourself to smell just like him. or when you ask for his clothes : you actually don't even have to ask anymore, he'll let them on display in his room for you to take.

he loves you so much, he cherishes the fondness more than anything he has. he would go lengths to protect you and keep you safe, nobody should ever dare lay a hand on you or even wish to hurt you. mikey might not see himself as deserving of his adorable omega, but it doesn't mean he'll just let you slip away for another to win you over. he'll change for the best, he's sure that with your unconditional support he can do anything!

[shaisuki]

CIGARETTE SMOKE

|| the third entry for the series “𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐓𝐇𝐈𝐍𝐆𝐒 𝐖𝐄 𝐃𝐎 𝐅𝐎𝐑 𝐋𝐎𝐕𝐄”

content warnings ─── yandere themes, implied kidnapping, hints of smut, jealousy.

is it bad that you want to take someone just to protect them from this world? aki regretted but doesn't feel bad about it.

we devil hunters don't have the long life to live.

there's a certain annoyance that has been creeping up on me since you joined the division. you clearly didn't belong here and sometimes i would ask myself why are you here? why are you wasting your life in this hellhole for no reason. you're alive. happy. you aren't here for revenge. to avenge your loved ones from the devils. you have no purpose here. you don't belong here.

however it's not my place to dictate someone's choice of being here but you infuriate me to no end that i wished for your demise. i didn't understand why i feel this way towards you. it doesn't make sense. you were a nobody to mine. not the one i should care for but sometimes i can't take my eyes off you.

the gnawing feeling of seeing you so friendly and close to someone like denji makes my blood boil and it's easy to ignore it but i can't not when you're starting to grow on me.

what casual moments between us, i have cherished it. not realizing what effect it could have on me. i started to see you on my dreams. started to crave your presence that i can no longer breath and it hurts me so much that i have started to feel this way to you more than i would like to admit.

then we started to lay on the same bed. where can i hear you breath. feel you under my fingertips. the softness and warmth you provided for simply existing. how it provided the intimacy of comfort and security. drown in the depths of the pools of your eyes that i can no longer swim and sink in to you.

is this what it feels to fall for someone who is close but is distant. how could it be when you're the one who initiated it. how cruel are you but i can't blame you. we simply comforted each other with our bodies and it's my fault that i let myself feel what i wanted to feel.

this would be our last night together. allow me to cherish you. let me feel you. let me sink my teeth unto your skin that you will feel me for days.

the gasps and moans that left your lips breathlessly is the air i breath. say my name the way i like it. say my name as i touch you in places where it brought you pleasure. the stretch marks and scars decorating your skin that i have memorized. the curves and every swell of your body where i have kissed and worshipped. allow me. allow me. allow me. allow me to savor all of it. you won't deprive me of it. i know of it since you're helplessly under me.

that's right. that's how things should be. you and me. nothing else in this world that can stop us. not even the devils.

why won't you be mine?

the thought occured to me. why? we have shared our thoughts. the touch that i came to miss. the kisses that i denied at first and learned to crave. i have touched you. we've exchanged sweet nothings. the string of salivas connecting our lips. my lips on yours and my spent deep inside you. painting your walls white as you came around me. isn't it enough that we belong to each other. you're mine. you're mine. you're mine. you are mine.

so forgive me. forgive me that the last thing you will ever see is the smoke coming from my cigarette as i lay claim on you. protecting you from this cruel world that took the people i loved and i won't let it happen to you. i don't understand myself why i am asking for your forgiveness when i know you won't forgive but it won't hurt to ask. you're too kind and that was your mistake for having me. for letting me in your world that I claimed to be mine.

my thoughts are muddled and the only thing that keeps me sane of my reality is the light coming from the end of my cigarette and your warm body resting beside me. warm. it is a good thing. you're still alive and you'll wake up with me beside you. that's better. is all i can think as i watch my cigarette smoke disappear in the thin air like you were.

[teddy06writes]

Whumptober Day 20 - Dallas Winston

Dallas Winston x gn!reader

Prompt: "Who did this to you?"

Trigger Warnings: Canon typical violence, swearing

Summary: You get jumped, Dally plots revenge.

You should have been paying better attention. If you'd been paying attention, you would've seen the socs coming from a mile away. And if you had seen them coming then surely you would have had the good sense enough to take a shortcut home, or to the Curtis house, or at least to the DX station where Steve and Sodapop could've scared them off.

Your thoughts raced in these circles as you limped down the street, back in the direction of home.

They hadn't even given you time to fight back before they had dragged you off into an alley, to give you one hell of a soaking. One smart comment in earshot of the wrong person had given you a swollen eye, a busted lip, and some number of other bruises littering the rest of your body.

"Holy shit, (y/n), is that you?"

"You don't look so good."

You turned, finding Ponyboy and Johnny leaning against the side of a corner store, smoking. Before you could even open your mouth, Ponyboy was pulling you out of foot traffic, and Johnny was lighting a cigarette to place between your still shaking fingers.

"What the hell happened?"

"Don't ask 'em that, ain't it obvious? It was the damn socs!" Ponyboy exclaimed.

You nodded, taking a drag of the cigarette, "Shoulda seen it coming. I slagged off that damn Chet what's his name in fifth period and someone musta heard me."

"Christ! wait till Dallas hears!" Ponyboy exclaimed.

"Wait till Dallas hears what?"

At the sudden sound of your boyfriends voice, the boys jumped, turning to Dally and beginning to stutter out that they found you like that. Of course, Dallas heard none of that as soon as he caught sight of your busted up face.

He was pushing them aside and taking the sides of your face in his hands, "Who did this to you?"

"Dal-"

"Who did this?" He asked again, barely holding back his anger.

You glanced away before meeting his eyes again, "Chet something or other- he runs with Gregg Parkers gang."

Dally nodded, releasing you, and running a hand over his face, thinking for a moment.

"It's fine Dal, I was practically asking for it-"

"No, no, no, none of that shit, doll. That little slime ball, is going to pay for messing with what's mine," There was something hard in his tone, in his protectiveness that tugged at your chest, as he turned to Pony and Johnny, "Listen, you two get them back to the house, see if Darry's got that first aid kit of his stocked up, alright?"

Ponyboy and Johnny nodded duitifly as he continued, "Then I want you to get Two-Bit, and Steve, hell, anyone you can find, and send 'em to meet me over at Buck's. I gotta go find Shepard."

"What about us?" Pony asked.

"You stay with (y/n), alright? I don't need Darry hounding me about dragging you into this, too." He looked around the street, before turning back to you.

"Dallas..." You tried to protest again.

"C'mere," Dally pulled you into his arms, briefly, and pressing an uncharacteristically chaste, gentle kiss to your temple, "Let me do this."

Without another word he was heading off down the street, and Johnny and Ponyboy began to corral you back towards the Curtis house, so that Darry could patch you up.

Eventually, Dally, Two-Bit and Steve would return to the Curtis house, and with bloody knuckles, Dally would join you on the couch, holding you close, happy in knowing that you were safe.

[thedomesticanthropologist]

Astarions Agonies

Why WOULD you want to love someone after everything has been taken from you? Everything but your name. Everything but your name

Your sense of taste, the warmth of your skin, your own heartbeat. Your reflection in the mirror. Your home, your clothes, your friends, your family. Your history, memories, your life.

Stripped of all of this, left with only the ability to feel. Mentally. Physically. And then that, too, is broken. Because it cannot be taken, so it must be controlled.

Anyone you care for, murdered. And not just murdered, but you have to do it. You have to bring them to their death. Maybe you have to watch. So you protect yourself, you protect them- whoever they nay be, whoever they could have been. You cannot care. You cannot. The consequences are too high.

Your body, every touch you delight in is perverted by the same solemn end. How can you enjoy this, even as a distraction from the more violent touches you are forced to endure, when you are still being forced? You cannot choose the sweet, the kind, the gentle, for they meet the same fate as the cruel, the evil, the fools. Picking soft touches over harsh ones fades to picking at random, to grabbing whoever you can get. Because it doesn't matter. It doesn't matter. It all ends the same way.

And then there is the pain. The Punishments. At first, tastes of who you are- who you can be, are traded out; exchanged for physical torment and 'correction' of your behavior. But the punishments so hea ily outweigh the benefits of a snide remark, a night out too late, a prank, a room visited after being informed it is off limits. A victim you refused to hand over.

This life- no, this Un-death allows for a greater torment than any living person could survive. Hunger, thirst, pain, psychological abuse, sexual abuse. Never, ever ending. There is not a second in the day for two hundred years that you are not watched, used, handled, beaten, starved. Even in your rest there is no relief, for you cannot sleep but only enter reverie- a skill wherein your mind re-lives what you have been through, over and over.

So why would you choose to try to love someone? Why try to trust? Why, when you know what happens when you do?

Perhaps you've been allowed to believe you made it out before, only to have been captured and dragged back. Perhaps you've been allowed to believe a friend or a lover has escaped before, only to be called into a room and advised to clean up their corpse.

The only difference now is the sun on your skin.

The distance between you and that place.

The days, and days, and days that begin to pass with no retribution for your insolence, for your escape.

And these people, these idiots keep... not trying to kill you. Even when they find out what you are. One of them keeps looking at you like they might really care. You can use that, can't you?

Why would you love, when you could use their love to get your revenge?

But... in the wee hours of the morning, in the arms of a living, breathing person who has bedded you more than once and still is not gone forever, you think... maybe, maybe He didn't take it All from you.

Maybe even if he did, you could get it back.

Maybe you could love.

Maybe you could... try living, again.

[indigoire]

Someone else mentioned in the tag, but I love the foreshadowing we got in the first three episodes of tlovm, both for Glintshore and A Bard's Lament. Meet me under the cut.

First, Glintshore. We had teases in the previous season, namely Vex's "my heart is someone else's" as she turned on Saundor, with the sudden cut to Percy's face. Don't think I'll be forgetting that any time soon. This season will probably have the showdown between Percy and Anna, part two, lord knows how they're gonna fit it in between dragon fights but it makes sense to put it in this season. We have Vex getting frantic to save Percy, no matter what, and her throwing herself in front of him to take a shot for him. Her "what would you do without me" afterwards hits hard when, well, he'd probably die Vex. And Percy's no better of course, cradling her to his chest, and then taking her into his confidence about his thoughts on Anna and revenge and looking for a new purpose. The groundwork is laid. That resurrection ritual is gonna hit so hard after all of this.

All the same, I'm glad they broke a little of the sexual tension before killing Percy, even if the episode ended with Vex saying "it was fun but we can't do romance right now". She made it clear to the audience and Percy that she knows she cares for him and he cares for her, but they're too focused on the task ahead and too scared of the depths of their feelings to make a commitment. It almost makes perfect sense, if you didn't know that one of them was going to die and make the other one realize she can't go on without him. Again, that ritual is going to be delicious, I can practically see the tortuous flashbacks now.

Now, onto the bard. While Vex is frantic about Percy she definitely said something that cut Scanlan down. "Who cares [about your issues with Kaylie] we need to save Percy!" And in general the group being relieved to have Scanlan talk their way out of trouble, but not offering to help him with his daughter in return. He really did seem caught between two responsibilities: being a present father and helping his found family. It's very clear he cares about Vox Machina, but he's still trying to figure out how to keep Kaylie in his life. It seems like Pike is the only one who is willing to listen to him, but even she pushes him away after he tries to kiss her. She was well within her right (he was drinking, he was not in a good headspace, she was genuinely just trying to reach out as a friend and not making a move), but we know how Scanlan is gonna interpret that. In general I really appreciate that he's grown past being a joke, that we as an audience can still laugh at/with Scanlan but we're also forced to reckon with his pain and personhood. And soon Vox Machina will too. Possibly at the end of this season. Possibly.

[codename-adler]

musing about jeanaaron rn.... what are your thinkings about them tell me anything

an exception from my to-do list for u orpheus and my loves Jeanaaron <3

- the height difference is EXQUISITE. 5ft vs 6ft2 😍😍😍

- backliner duo backliner tension backliner sync backliner soul

- i understand and read Aaron as a very no bullshit guy, but like, that’s it. he’s not mean about it, not cruel, not condescending, not teasing, not fake, not anything. (unless u are Neil Josten) i think that it’s very refreshing and fascinating to Jean? to meet someone who really has no ulterior motives whatsoever, in life and with his person. very trust material in Jean’s eyes methinks. the very just middle between overly sweet positivity and stabbing despair? idk, i just think Aaron shared Andrew’s honesty, but in a more neutral, idgaf way. does that make sense?

- Aaron tends to Jean’s woundssssss like no one ever has before and there is so much less pain!!!

- Jean cracks Aaron open right down the middle where nobody ever bothered to lookkkkk and there is so much more understanding!!!

- i like the Kevaaron vibe of revenge, like: you took my forever partner, i’m stealing your twin! or; you chose that moldy ginger snap, i’m choosing the same brand of bastard but he is TALL! it’s funny to me :)

- the patience they have for one another is infinite; they feel no rush, no pressure, no resentment. they would wait eternities for just one smile from the other, even if that’s all they would ever get.

- the quiet is important. silence without anticipation? a reprieve of the noise inside and outside? freely? i think they’re both silent people, but with one another there’s no forcing words, no expectations, no waiting for the other shoe to drop. the safest place where everything just stops and all is okay.

- CUDDLES. they are both hardcore heavy duty octopi in bed. holding tight tight tight tight no space all warmth. intertwined like bonsai roots.

- they looooooove to judge people together!!! especially their teammates and classmates. but the grocery store and airport are fun places too.

- i think they should learn to play instruments together. it would be very sexy. and angsty.

- i imagine them taking turns cooking, always one manning the kitchen, and the other sitting on the countertop. the kicking-against-the-cupboard-or-island length varies, but not the domesticity and intimacy of it all.

- Jean is the best teacher Aaron has ever had. for studying AND Exy. Jean is the best backliner, yes, but has that je-ne-sais-quoi that just gets through to Aaron, that just gets Aaron

- Aaron is also suchhhh a sucker for validation and making Jean proud is his #1 kink

- i think Catalina is so much like Katelyn (and woah would u look at that, such similar names 👀) that she instantly takes a liking to Aaron too, and Aaron as well right back despite his best efforts, and Jean is so touched that his bestfriend has adopted Aaron like she did with him, like he truly can have everything 🥹

- Jean immensely appreciate that Aaron is among the very very few people who does not shit on Kevin, but doesn’t worship him either.

- for what Neil did for Jean, Aaron truly starts to resent him less and less thanks to Jean offering a less idealistic vision of Neil that Andrew and the Foxes all share, but showing him Neil’s true colors that can also be good despite their violence.

- Jeanaaron on the motorcycle??? tiny beefcake plastered to Jean’s muscly broad back??? HELLO???

- back to the honesty think, i think where Jeanaaron differs from Kevaaron and is instead more similar to Andreil, is that the walls have to be taken down very painstakingly; Kevin and Aaron already know each other and have seen each others worse, there’s no armour to go through; Jean and Aaron don’t know each other at first, but they understand each other like no one, so it’s a game of truth too, one at a time, tearing down those barriers and touching that soft true heart behind; what makes them panic, what makes them scream, what plagues their nights and days, what lures in their past… it’s a whole new process of dealing with your trauma when no one else could ever handle it, much less want to look at it and kiss it better anyway.

also dusting off me old old playlist i had made for them, just for you:

take me home + 100 bandaids are really my jeanaaron anthems

[sunflowersteves]

crazy || j.m.

chapter two of ain't no sunshine

pairing || joel miller x f!sunshine!reader

summary || you get injured during a patrol and Joel is too occupied to assist your wound. what happens when someone else has to take over?

author's note || i hope you all enjoy chapter two! since the second to last episode, all i could think about was that smirk joel gave. oop. i promise next chapter will be fluffy. now that it's spring beak, i'm hoping to write much more for this series. can be read as a stand alone but follows a series! 5.8k!

warnings || jealousy, injury, hurt/comfort, canon-typical violence, murder, blood, possessiveness, brad has his own warning (ifkyk), unrealistic recovery time, delirium, joel is self deprecating and self sabotaging, arguments, SMUT, rough sex, fingering, praise kink, taunting, degradation, dom joel, joel is a little mean, but don't worry because soft joel makes an appearance, soft sex, creampie, [18+ only!!]

series masterlist || part one || masterlist

Crazy for thinking that my love could hold you I'm crazy for trying and crazy for crying And I'm crazy for loving you

You weren’t sure when it happened—when the blade twisted into your gut, cutting your flesh and piercing your intestines. You could feel the pain. It was dull and throbbing as wet crimson seeped into your t-shirt. 

You heard a cried-out yell, and turning toward your side, you saw it. You saw the knife that was once in your stomach was now in your hand—lodged into your attacker’s skull. Your body had acted on instinct and perpetrated that familiar gut feeling of violence and revenge. 

You pause, just for a moment. You could feel the adrenaline kick into your system, and a numbing pain flushed out your senses. The blood felt warm and sticky—prompting the sleepiness to feel calming, and it urged you forward into its safe surroundings. 

But then you felt it. Panic. Panic rose in your neck as you looked around for someone. Your hand darted out to try and find them, but your mind was starting to become blank from the fuzzy warmth of pain. 

Joel.

You needed Joel.

But all you knew was that Joel wasn’t by your side. Joel wasn’t here. He wasn’t holding your hand. He wasn’t whispering into your ear about how everything was going to be okay. 

You didn’t know where he was. Then, you collapsed to the snowy ground, white dots fluttering around you. It was almost comforting the way the snow danced around you like soft wet pillows. You opened your mouth. You wanted to say something—you wanted Joel, but nothing could leave your lips.

It all happened too fast—too soon after just leaving the commune for a patrol. You and Joel had spotted someone walking too close to the river, but you and the rest of your party hadn’t seen the tracks behind you. You never noticed four men creeping their way to surround you. 

It almost felt astonishing, really. You, Joel, Tommy, Maria, and Brad were not new to the dangers of survival, especially you and Joel.

The two of you and Ellie have had your fair share of raiders and non-friendly people alike. You and Joel protected Ellie in every way possible, punching your way through cheekbones and splattering scarlet liquid. 

You and Joel weren’t new to picking out tracks and finding the smallest detail of other life. So how could you miss this?

“I’ve got you.”

Your brow crinkles. That doesn’t sound like Joel. You peek open one of your eyes to see a man—what was his name? Oh, yeah. Brad. 

You didn’t want Brad. You wanted Joel. You wanted the scruff of gray hair poking out loudly against the soft brunette ones. You wanted those honeyed brown eyes staring at you in concern and anguish. You wanted Joel to hold your hand as he gently took you into his arms and carried you all the way back. 

Finally, you speak. “Joel. N-Need Jo—”

“I know, but he’s not here.” He placed his hand on your abdomen and applied a great deal of pressure. Your breath hitches, but then your lips fall into a frown. 

“Joel isn’t here?” Tears start to water your lash line, but none of them fall. If you weren’t preoccupied with the open wound on your side, you would have noticed the twitch of a smirk on Brad’s lips. He was purposely attempting to make you feel alone like you've been abandoned by your partner. 

Your eyes start to sting, a fresh tear falling down the side of your face, right below your temple. Something was wrong. Something felt very wrong. You knew Joel would never ever abandon you, so why did Brad say that?

You could feel yourself become dizzy, and the white specs that fluttered around you started to become hazy. You opened your mouth, and your eyes felt so heavy. You could hear someone telling you to stay awake, and it didn’t feel like Brad this time. Maria? Tommy? 

You weren’t sure, but it was no use. You let the sweet lullaby of sleep take over you, and your eyes fluttered closed. 

You whispered Joel's name over and over. 

═ ∘◦❦◦∘ ═

Tommy hadn’t seen Joel act like this in quite some time. Everyone saw their fair share of grumpy glares and pissed off, snarling Joel, but never this—not since the very beginning of the outbreak.

Joel had just been so irate. He was so entirely impassioned with rage—furious and calculating as his fist connected with the raider's face, over and over. But there was something else, too. Fear and hurt swirled and ignited between his brown eyes at the sight of the blood that seeped into your clothing. 

He watched it all happen. He watched the knife lodge into your stomach. He saw your blood that almost became fluorescent in the white snow. He felt his chest seize as his eyes followed your fist that was puncturing the knife into the raider’s skull. 

He saw the way Brad flew to your side, the way that he yelled at you to stay awake. He watched as your eyes fluttered close, and desperation rose in his throat. He tried calling out your name, but he couldn’t get to you.

One of the raiders wrapped his arm around his neck and choked him—no doubt the raider using Joel’s vulnerability of pure agony to his advantage. 

He couldn’t get to you.

He repeated it over and over in his head. He grabbed the raider’s arm and used the weight of his body to fling the guy forward. Joel didn’t waste a single second. He grasped the gun that was flung out of his hands earlier to the raider’s face. 

The clock was ticking. He couldn’t get to you.

“Wait, wait, wait, I can help—”

Joel pulled the trigger, releasing the bullet and popping loudly against the barrel—shoving the nine millimeters of metal into the man’s head. He fell limp to the ground, and the hands that were clenching around Joel’s forearms slowly dropped. 

He looked over in an instant to see that Tommy had knocked out the last of the men that had surrounded all of you. His head snapped back over to you, feet crunching against the snow with each step. 

You weren’t moving—not even your eyes were fluttering—and Joel felt the whole world swallowing him whole. His heart thumped loudly against his chest as his knees hit the ground, no doubt bruising them in the process. 

Brad was on the other side of you, applying pressure to the wound still. “About time, old man.”

Joel ignored him—honestly, he was not even sure he really registered his presence at all. All Joel could do was hold your face, not caring about any of the blood that smeared onto your cheek. “Baby?”

His eyes skated across your face to see a sign—a twitch of your brow, a pull at your lips, anything. He could see the tears that started to gloss over his vision. “Sunshine, please.” 

He paused, desperately searching. “Please.” 

Tommy says Joel’s name softly as if he were going to snap at any moment. He flinched a little when Joel moved. The dark depths of memories from before rushed through his brain. His mind almost became blank—so did Joel’s. Was this going to be the same?

Maria was the one that snapped them out of it, holding her broken wrist to her chest. “We need to leave. We have to get her to the clinic.”

Joel's arm loops itself under your neck, and Tommy pulls your legs up to make it easier to lift you. He scoops you up into his arms, pressing a watery kiss to your forehead. He needed to get you home, and he needed to do it now. 

You murmur just barely under your breath and so quietly that he almost misses it. He wasn’t quite sure if you were even conscious. 

“Joel.”

═ ∘◦❦◦∘ ═

Worry, why do I let myself worry?

Wondering what in the world did I do?

Crazy for thinking that my love could hold you

The crackling, sultry voice of Patsy Cline flooded into your ears. Your eyes blinked open to see familiar plain white walls. You breathed in to smell fresh pine and some reminiscence of Joel’s cooking. 

Home. You were home. 

You could feel yourself groan as a dull pain spread from your abdomen to your chest. Your head felt a little fuzzy, and you tried to get your bearings, pushing yourself up from what felt like fluffy pillows. 

“Easy. Woah, slow down.” You smiled at the high-pitched voice. Ellie. 

She grabbed your hand, the other guiding the small of your back to sit up. While your wound had mostly healed by this point, there was still going to be a lot of internal discomfort. 

“How long was I out?” You rasped out, your vocal cords rubbing like sandpaper against your throat. You coughed out, and Ellie was quick to bring a glass of water to your lips. 

You gulped down heavily, the relief of the cold liquid soothing your aching throat. You cleared your throat and handed the water back to her. “How long?”

Ellie bit her lip, an uneasy expression lifting onto her face. “Six weeks.”

Your mouth gaped open. “Six weeks? Oh my god—”

She tried to quickly play it off as if she, Joel, Tommy, and Maria weren’t shitting their pants every day at the thought of you never waking up. “But Patsy Cline woke you up! I played all your favorites, especially the ones that you and Joel like to sing all the time, and I knew for sure that she was going to do the trick and—”

“Where’s Joel? Is he okay? Did they hurt him?”

Ellie winced at the mention of his name, but her heart also thumped against her chest. You were literally stabbed in the stomach and almost died multiple times, yet you still thought of someone else. You still thought about the safety and well-being of Joel.

His typical sunshine. Her typical mother. 

She gently squeezed your hand. “Joel is fine. He only had a couple of bruises.” She paused before answering your first question. “He’s, um, at Tommy’s.”

You just blinked, feeling the disappointment crash against your chest. “Oh.” 

Oh. That was okay. He didn’t need to be constantly by your side. Maybe he just needed some rest or comfort from his younger brother. That was okay, right?

Right?

“Is he sleeping?” You could tell by the way she avoided your eyes that something was wrong. What that was, you weren’t exactly sure. He wasn’t injured, so what else could it be? You gulped—suddenly feeling parched again. 

“No…He’s awake. I think so, anyway.” She winced again and knew that she wasn’t helping his case at all. “He hasn’t exactly left Tommy’s to come here.”

When Joel carried you all that way to the clinic in Jackson, he collapsed on the hard ground and cradled you in his arms. You felt cold. You felt unmoving. The entire walk back, he felt helpless—breaths of hopelessness crowded his brain, and all he could think about was that he lost you.

When they tried to take you into the operating room, Joel almost wouldn’t let them. He was clouded by fear and burning with uncleansed rage. 

He lost you, and he did nothing about it. He lost you, and he did nothing about it. It repeated through his head until he could no longer think, hear, see—anything at all—but those words. He couldn’t let them take you—he wouldn’t let them take you from him.

Finally, after realizing that he was wasting the precious time of your beating heart, he let them carry you into a back operating room. He never left the clinic that night, even after the ten-hour surgery. 

After that, though, Joel wasn’t the same. At least, he didn’t feel like it. 

While Tommy knew that and Maria knew that, you and Ellie didn’t. Ellie hadn’t seen Joel in six weeks—just Tommy checking in and bringing her the basics of food and water and helping you. Maria would come too, to bathe you and give you medicine. At first, Ellie thought that Joel had just been hurt or he was forced to go on another patrol.

But no. She realized Joel just hadn’t visited you at all. She was angry at first, stomping over to him and giving him a piece of her mind. As she calmed down, though, she knew Joel cared about you. Deeply. 

He was just…Joel. 

He was unemotional and brash. He was jarring and inanely grumpy all the time. He has violent tendencies and a very distant, dark past. He pushed everyone away from him—only gave affection within a ten-foot pole radius. God, he really, really pushes the people he loves away. 

She knew that she could handle that. She was stubborn and hardheaded like him, so it was a bit easier. She just was worried you wouldn’t be able to handle that.

Ellie and Joel were your worlds. You even told the two of them that when star-gazing one night on the roof of your cabin. You were sweet and doting. You were so calculating and headstrong when you needed to be. But if Joel wasn’t careful about this, she knew he could break your heart.

You go to stand, suddenly feeling a burst of anger rush through you. Ellie could tell by the way your eyebrow twitched and the hard thumps of your socked feet sauntered across the floor that you were very mad. 

“Look, please just—”

You hear a crashing noise outside of the guest bedroom door. Both of your heads whipped over to the loud sound. You would have almost let fear take hold of your chest if it weren’t for Joel bursting through the door not a second later.

His chest heaved up and down, rapidly, and eyes wide at the sight of you standing. You were in some sweatpants and one of his flannel button-ups. Your hair was a little damp. He had no doubt it was from Ellie washing it earlier this morning. 

“Joel.”

His eyes don’t even acknowledge Ellie’s presence. They’re just scanning your body over and over. You seem okay. You seem good. You seem alive.

His body carried itself forward before he was even thinking. His arm stretched out, and the pads of his fingers stroked your cheek. He takes a minute to look at the ways your eyes shone from the light of the window. 

He then retraced his hand so fast, as if your skin was a hot stove—sizzling and burning to the touch. He even took a few paces back. He could feel his eyes watering with each deep, dismal thought pulling him under. 

“You’re awake.”

He said it so softly that you weren’t even sure you heard him right. You just stood there, mouth opening in shock at his reaction. You weren’t really sure what to make of any of this. Shit, you weren’t even awake twenty minutes ago. 

Ellie cleared her throat at the awkwardness. “I’m gonna…go do things.” With that, she left the room, and a small ‘yikes’ escaped her lips. 

There was a long beat of silence before either of you spoke. Joel still looked at you, though. He couldn’t help himself. He still couldn’t believe that you were awake. You were the one to break it, your mind was wandering too aimlessly at all of the unknowns. 

“You didn’t visit me.” He opened his mouth, but you didn’t let him talk. “Ellie said I was in a coma for six weeks and you didn’t visit me.”

The cracking of your voice and the tears on your waterline broke his heart into two. It was split wide open and ached against his chest. “I-I couldn’t. I saw you layin’ there, darlin’, and I just couldn’t.”

You lightly scoffed. “Couldn’t or wouldn’t? I mean seriously Joel, who the fuck doesn’t visit their partner after they almost die and—”

“What do you want me to say, huh? That I wasn’t fuckin’ there for you? Is that what you want me to say?”

You purse your lips, your hands flying in the air. “No! I–I wanna know why, Joel. I wanna know why you couldn’t even see me.”

His nostrils flare at your tone—crackled and gloomy as it echoed across the room. “Why would you want to see someone like me? Huh? Brad was all over you, and—”

You couldn’t believe him right now. You almost didn’t, but the swirl of green that rested in between his eyes said otherwise. Joel didn’t visit you in your own shared home after being seriously injured because he was jealous? 

“Oh, my god.” You wanted to laugh, and you did. Laughter, the kind that was dark and fluid, bubbled through you. “You can’t be serious.”

You could tell there was something he wasn’t telling you. His hands were tight around the doorframe, and his eyes were glued to the ground. You wanted to pry a bit more, but as Joel always says, “You’re an absolute sunshine until that fire ignites inside of you.” 

“Maybe I should go to him, then.”

Yeah, that got his attention. His eyes flickered up towards yours, mouth opening slightly. “What?”

You crossed your arms over your chest. “You heard me. Maybe I should go see Brad. I should tell him to take me out to dinner at the bar. He seemed super interested a couple of weeks ago when he—”

“You shut your fuckin’ mouth.” Your mouth snapped closed as Joel towered over you. His nostrils flared, chest pulling up and down at a rate that was too calm—too calm while the red between his eyes burned a hole in your own chest. “You think Brad can please you? hmm?”

His fingers grip your jaw so that you’re forced to maintain eye contact. Not that you would give the satisfaction to Joel from the throb of your core anyway. “Yeah, Joel, I think he can.”

His eyes squinted, his face leaning even closer than before. “So if I shoved my hand down, your pussy wouldn’t be drippin’ for me?”

Yeah, okay. He’s got you there. “Huh? Gonna say anything, darlin’?” You defiantly squint your eyes back up into his. His tone was anything but sweet—it was snarling and patronizing as his brows furrowed even further.

Before you could even open your mouth to give a snarky comment back, Joel aggressively shoves the sweatpants you had on down to your ankles. “You’re a fuckin’ brat, you know that?”

He gets on his knees, fingers pushing between your folds. Sure enough, you’re wet. As if on cue, Joel smirks as his finger swirls to grab your sweet nectar. “F-Fuck you, Joel.”

“Yeah?” He groaned into your ear. His thumb presses deep into your clit, sparking your hips to jolt at the pressure. “I don’t think so, darlin’. I don’t think you deserve my cock.”

You gasped, “J-Joel–”

He slipped his index finger, pushing through your tight walls. His cock twitches at the whimper that left your lips. “All I’m doin' is fuckin’ you good with my fingers.” 

His torrid voice breaks you whole, sweet accent slurring his words together. “Can Brad do that? Could he make you dumb from just his fingers?”

He wants you to answer him, but he knows the pleasure is starting to blossom in your lower abdomen. His fingers always made you cum so fast and so hard. They always stretched your aching pussy so wide and scissored the perfect angle into you.

So, he was going to take his sweet time. 

He chuckled. “C’mon, you weren’t this shy earlier. I want you to answer me, sunshine.” Your head tilts back in a gasp, the nickname rolled off of his tongue, and it was so blissful. “Can Brad do this?”

You shake your head, mouth opening, but nothing comes out. You were sensitive—really sensitive. “You can do it, pretty girl.” God, he was enjoying this a bit too much, it was starting to drive you insane. “Answer me.”

The demanding tone struck through your chest, and you almost didn’t give in. All anger practically washed out of you when he inserted another finger—curling them with each thrust. “No! H-He can’t. B-Brad can’t fuck me like you do.”

A devilish smile sprouts from his lips at your affirmation. “That’s all you had to say, sunshine. I fuck you better, hmm?” The squelch of your juices running down his fingers sounded almost ethereal to his ears. “Look at you,” he coos, and you almost believed that it was sweet. “Fuckin’ dumb from just my hand.”

He pauses, almost taunting like. “Do you want my cock?”

Your fingernails dug deep into his shoulders, his name clouding over your mind, and it was all you seemed to think about. “Yes! Please, Joel! I-I want your cock. N-Need it, please.”

“Well, you can’t fuckin’ have it.” His fingers shove even deeper through your walls—finding that spongy spot that makes you mewl. “You don’t deserve it, sunshine.”

You weren’t sure how much more you could handle as the pressure builds, making your head feel a bit fuzzy. “Joel, please. I’m—” 

Oh.

Oh, you see it now. You almost say it. The apology almost rings through your ears. He wanted you to apologize for what you said to him, and it almost worked. Almost. 

You may be happy and considerate the majority of the time, but you were angry. Irritation still bubbled up between your chest, and you weren’t about to let Joel get away with something so easily. 

As if he knew, his eyes flared in anger. “Fuckin’ cum.” 

“I–I won’t—” You say defiantly, trying to make him more frustrated. He knew you better than that, though. He could feel the clench of your walls and the grip on his shoulders became increasingly tight.

“Fuckin’ cum right now, sunshine, or—” Your mouth hangs open as your orgasm breaks you whole. It flutters through you as he works you through it, thighs shaking and Joel’s name chanting from your lucid tongue. 

“Doing so good for me, yeah?” His hand thrusts into you, thumb still stroking your puffy clit. He groans at the gush of your juices dripping down to his wrist, and he leaned down, tongue swirling to just grab a little taste of you. “Y’taste so good, darlin’.”

Your head rolled over to nod. Your eyelids were heavy from the pure pleasure that rushed through your head and down to your toes. His fingers slip out of you easily, and plops them into his mouth, sucking every drop of your orgasm.

He takes his fingers out of his mouth and pulls himself up from the ground. Something sinks in between his stomach, though. He can feel the dread of confrontation unfolding in his eyes. 

The way you look up at him, Joel knows he doesn’t deserve this. You don’t deserve this. Your hand fluffs through the back of his hair, and he thought that your touch would bring him the comfort he needed. But it doesn’t.

He feels like he is going to be sick. He was mean to you. He degraded you. He acted like he didn’t trust you. You could see that he was pulling himself away from you with the way that his eyes snapped shut and his head shook back and forth. 

You tried to reel him back in, wanting him to know that you were just as angry as he was. You were just as turned on by his rage as he was by yours. But it was no use. Joel Miller had made up his mind already.

“I’m going for a walk.”

Your face fell as he bolted from the room. Pain swirled in your stomach, and a sob escaped your lips. You suddenly felt sick to your stomach, and everything just felt so wrong. There was a sunken feeling in your chest—a feeling of a hole burning through your heart. 

He left you.

Again.

═ ∘◦❦◦∘ ═

Tap, tap. Maria opened the door to your bedroom just a little, peeking her head in. “So the rumors are true. You are awake.”

You turned the pages of your favorite book, not even looking up at her just yet. “Awake as anyone can be.”

She smiled up at you before fully pushing the door open and entering the room. She had a glass of water and a handful of pill bottles—probably expired, but they have been probably keeping you alive. 

“Any pain?” 

You shook your head, but that was far from the truth. You just didn’t have any pain from the area you got stabbed. You just had lots of heart and head pain. 

“Good. Since you were out for quite some time, your body was able to mostly heal.” You noticed the small bag in her arm and figured it was most likely some more medical supplies.

You gave her a faint smile and turned another page—eyes skimming the small words. “Thank god. You know I can’t stay still for long.”

She chuckled, nodding in agreement. She gave you the pills you needed. You swallowed them down, gulping the fresh water. After handing the water back to her, you looked down at your book again.

She looked over at you, and a smile widened on her lips. “He read that to you every night, you know.”

You blinked, confused. “What?” You dog-eared the book and placed it on the bed next to you. You had somewhat of an idea, but the shock was still evident. “Who?”

Maria smiled and set down a couple of more pills on your bedside table. “It’s some pain medication if you need it.” After you nodded in acknowledgment, she sat down next to you on the bed. “Joel.”

Your eyes widened slightly. She continued, “After Ellie would go to sleep, he would sneak into the house. I told him he didn’t have to do that, but well, you know him.” She knocked her elbow with yours. “He just sat there all night reading that book to you, over and over. He’d come back to our place at around seven in the morning before Ellie woke up.”

She paused, looking right at you. “I know how he is. I know you know more than any of us, but that day? I hadn’t ever seen him like that. He was broken. He muttered under his breath the whole way back that you were gone, and it was his fault. I kept trying to tell him that you still had a steady heartbeat, but he was just—just fully convinced.”

She gave you a watery smile, noticing the tears streaming down your cheeks. You wiped them with the back of your palm and sniffled from a runny nose. 

“Oh, Joel.” You sighed, feeling slightly guilty, but you knew he would hate that. You didn’t know. He specifically chose not to tell you or Ellie anything because that was what he does. He pushes you away because he thinks he doesn’t deserve you or this life you have. Your silly, precious Joel. 

“I’ll leave you to it. Get better, okay? I need my movie-watching friend back.” She pats you lightly on the back before standing up from the bed.

You laughed, nodding in agreement. “Oh, I’m sure it was hell trying to watch Little Women with Tommy.”

She huffed, a hand on the doorknob. “You have no idea.” And with that, she left the room. You stayed there on the bed and tried to dry your tears. 

You felt an ache burst through you. You knew Joel wasn’t telling you everything. You knew it.

There was a part of you that still felt guilty, even though you know you shouldn’t. You just didn’t know what those six weeks felt like as he waited for you. He pleaded every night for you to wake up. Every ten hours after finishing the book, he would ask you all the same. 

You finally had enough of this. It was all his decision to wallow in his own darkness and sorrows—and you were going to put an end to it.

You took the duvet off of your lap and sauntered across the room. Your hand twisted the doorknob, and just as you whipped the door open, you were met with a hard chest. Joel’s hand was fisted, hanging in the middle of the air.

Your eyes widened as you looked up into his deep eyes. “Joel.” You whispered. Tears already started to water against your lash line from the sight of his creased brow and worried gleam in his eyes. 

“Darlin’.” He grunted. His hands clasp gently against your cheeks, and it pulls you forward. His eyes flickered across your face, and his thumb moved to wipe your tears. “I’m so sorry. I shouldn’t have said any of that, okay? I-I just didn’t want to tell you the truth, and I just–I used Brad as an excuse—”

“Joel.” You bit your lip, trying to shake your head, but his hands stopped you. His other thumb moved back and forth in adoration on your cheek. 

“I just–I know I failed you. I know I failed Ellie too. I made you a promise that I would never do that again, and I broke it.” His voice cracked, and he let out a huff of air.

“Joel, you didn’t.” Your hand moved up to his chest, stroking back and forth, and he closed his eyes. “You didn’t fail anyone.”

He shook his head. “I did. I did fail you. When I saw the b-blood that—” He paused at the gut-wrenching memory, “I couldn’t get to you. I-I couldn’t help you, darlin’.”

Your breath hitched. Joel was worried about trying to help you. Not saved—like you were some damsel in distress. Not saved, as in pushing you aside and using his ego like others would. Not rescue you. Not recovering you. He wanted to help you. 

“Oh, Joel.” Your hand goes to cup his cheek, “Look at me. Joel—” His eyes snapped open, and he stared at your breath-takingingly beautiful, teary face. “You did help me.”

He opened his mouth to disagree, but you beat him to it. “You carried me all that way, and no one else could do that. Maria had a broken wrist, Tommy has noodle arms,” Joel lets out a snort, “And we can’t rely on a complete stranger to carry me back home. You did. You helped me more than anyone else in this damn world.”

A sob escaped his lips at your sweet affirmation. Tears cascaded down his cheeks, and he surged your cheeks forward to his, lips desperately pressing against your own.

They swallow you—burning a fire inside of you and your hands gripping his chest so tight that you were afraid he would vanish if you hadn’t. He licks into you, moaning.

“Sunshine.” He said, a smile turning up on his lips. He pressed his own back onto yours, so chaste and tender that it makes your knees buckle. “I’m sorry. I love you.”

His lips moved to your neck, and he whispered that against your skin.“I’m sorry. I love you.” His hands flittered down to your hips and gradually started to move you toward the bed. 

You whispered right back at him. “I’m sorry. I love you.” You could feel his lips curl into a smile on your skin, lips still pressing against the base of your neck and your collarbone. “I’m sorry. I love you.”

He gently laid you down on top of the bouncy mattress, hovering over you. He started to take off his jeans, and you do the same with your sweatpants. He gently unbuttoned his shirt, but his eyes never left yours. In fact, they were boring into you. They were glittering under the dimmed light. They were bursting full of love and worship for everything and everything you. 

He leans over on top of you, and one of his hands gently massages your breast. You wantonly sighed, pressing kisses onto his scruffy gray beard. A hand gently rests on your hip, sparking a hot sensation on your skin. His thumb swipes back and forth, and it takes everything in you not to let tears roll down your face once more. 

“I love you, sunshine.” He said it with such adoration and love that your heart seizes in your chest. His cock slipped into you easily, the arousal from earlier and the dripping now mixed and connected. 

“Joel, I love you—I love you.” He moaned at the clench of your walls. His lips lowered to press soft kisses to your chest. He thrust deep, the head of his cock piercing through you. The sweet contrast of Joel was making you feel dizzy.

He pulled back just a little. He wanted to look at you—he wanted to see you. Your mouth hangs wide open for him, whines and whimpers escaping your throat. “J-Joel! Feels so good, Joel.”

He smiled, “Yeah, Darlin’? Love my cock, don’t you?”

You gasped, preening into him. “Yes! Joel—” He thrusted into hard and his deep, hips brushed up against yours. “F-Fuck, baby—”

“Y’Pussy feels so fuckin’ tight, sunshine.” His lips pressed so gently against your skin, tasting the salt that seeped through. He groaned, hips slapping up and puncturing through you. 

“Joel, I love—love you.” You whined. His hand moved to swirl circles on your clit. You could feel the pressure build and burst through you. 

“Gonna cum, sunshine? Yeah, that’s it. Cum for me. Cum all over my cock.” 

You mewled, and he pushed into you a couple of times before you scream his name. “Joel! Joel, I—I love you, I love you.”

“Fuck, my sweet sunshine—” He grunts, coil snapping on his own and clashing against his abdomen. His cock twitched inside your walls, and he spilled inside of you. 

He pumps you full, while muttering under his breath. “I love you, sunshine. I—fuck—oh—I love you.” You whined his name over and again while he did the same. 

You clutched onto one another, desperate to be as close as possible. His lips pressed against your cheeks, leaving soft and gentle kisses in his path. He moaned as he felt your walls clench once more around him. 

You opened your eyes, flickering over his wrinkled lines and strong nose. You wanted to hold him forever, and he no doubt felt the same. 

After six weeks of pure agony, Joel finally felt whole again. He had you by his side, and he felt so loved by your presence. 

You were glad to be finally awake. The toll of being under for so long definitely affected you and your body. But, you couldn’t be happier than to share a little moment with Joel. Your Joel. 

Finally, after quite a while of enjoying each other's company—pressing soft kisses and caressing each other's skin—you break the silence. “We should probably go tell Ellie we’re okay.”

He nods in agreement, but he makes no sudden movements. “Jus’ five more minutes, darlin’?”

You gave him a big smile. “Yeah. Five more minutes, handsome.”

[mcflymemes]

STAR WARS: EPISODE III - REVENGE OF THE SITH (2005) PROMPTS *  assorted dialogue from the film, adjust as necessary

it's over, [name]. i have the high ground.

you underestimate my power.

i hate you!

you were my brother! i loved you!

do it.

you've become the very thing you swore to destroy.

don't lecture me.

don't make me kill you.

if you're not with me, then you're my enemy.

i will do what i must.

all who gain power are afraid to lose it.

they think inwards, only about themselves.

they only care about others.

what happened to him?

you're under arrest.

are you threatening me, [name]?

goodbye old friend.

you have done that to yourself.

you will not take her from me.

i saw your ship! what are you doing out here?

i was so worried about you.

love won't save you.

you're a good person. don't do this.

i won't lose you the way i lost my mother.

i'm doing it for you, to protect you.

come away with me. help me raise our child.

leave everything else behind while we still can.

we don't have to run anymore.

you and i can rule the galaxy, make things the way we want them to be.

i don't believe what i'm hearing.

i don't know you anymore.

you're breaking my heart.

you're going down a path i can't follow.

you're with him!

you brought him here to kill me!

this is where the fun begins.

for reasons we can't explain, we are losing her.

she has lost the will to live.

we don't know why.

there are too many of them.

death is a natural part of life.

train yourself to let go of everything you fear to lose.

can you hear me?

in your anger, you killed her.

treat them well.

i have waited a long time for this moment.

you will not stop me.

i have failed you.

this is the end for you.

i expected someone with your reputation to be a little older.

we have a job to do. try not to upset him.

you're a little shorter than i expected.

i must talk to you.

i've just learned a terrible truth.

how do you know this?

our worst fears have been realized.

what was that all about?

i didn't say anything.

not to worry. we're still flying half a ship.

what have i done?

i will do whatever you ask.

i told you it would come to this!

army or not, you must realize you are doomed.

are you all right? you're trembling.

something wonderful has happened. i'm pregnant.

i need your help. he is in grave danger.

you're going to kill him, aren't you?

he has become a very great threat.

let's get a move on.

we've got a battle to win here.

love won't save you.

i sense a trap.

you owe me one, and not for saving your skin for the tenth time.

this is how liberty dies... with thunderous applause.

what did you say?

i sense great fear in you.

the plan has gone as you had promised.

you are a bold one.

i know what's been troubling you.

are you going to kill me?

i can feel your anger.

it's very dangerous, putting them together.

i am going to end this, once and for all.

i'm too weak. don't kill me, please.

that has nothing to do with this.

you are so beautiful.

love has blinded you?

i'm going to end this war.

who could have done this?

there is something i must know.

[eri-pl]

Silm reread 18: Tears Unnumbered ye shall shed

So, we got here. But first, B&L get an epilogue.

First, a tidbit about reembodiment: B&L take their physical forms again in Doriath. I guess they go from Mandos to there in spirit. (It's all "allegedly", anyway). Everyone is happy and afraid when seing them (very reasonable reaction I think) and Luthien heals Thingol from (depression, more or less).

Melian looks in Luhien's eyes and is sad. She "realized they will be apart till the end of the world and after" (huh?) and again, we have Pengolodh's favorite stylistic tool: "nobody ever suffered more from any loss than Melian suffered then".

Oh, I found the quote in original: “But Melian looked in her eyes and read the doom that was written there, and turned away; for she knew that a parting beyond the end of the world had come between them, and no grief of loss has been heavier than the grief of Melian the Maia in that hour."

B&L go to Ossiriand, it vaguelly feels like they don't neet to eat anymore? But unclear.

Anyway, back to the proper plot Feanorians. Maedhros gained hope, because he saw Morgoth is not untouchable. He starts creating the Union, but the wording about him doing it … even without knowing the story, if I read it carefully, I would probably be worried about how it will go.

And we have a clear reminder of the Oath and all that. Orodreth doesn't trust the Feanorians because C&C (makes sense I guess) (Finrod would probably join the Union but anyway). Gwindor joins Maedhros, going against his king's orders… we know how this will end for Gwindor.

doriath. Mae&co had sent brash letters to thingol along the lines of "you will be our enemy if you don't give the Silmaril back" and Melian advised Thingol to give it to them! But he is angry at their tone and at C&C, and also B&L have suffered so much for this jewel…

Sidenote: If your main claim to a piece of treasure is "but I/someone have sufferred so much", keeping it is probably going to end badly.

Also thingol wants to keep the Silmaril, because it is this jewel's power…. wait what? "And every day that he looked upon the Silmaril the more he desired to keep it for ever; for such was its power." [original] WHAT.

Ok, that is new. So, the Silmaril is canonically addictive? Or is it only because it has been in Morgoth's crown?

So, anyway, Thingol sends Maedhros a dissing answer and Maedhros leaves him be, because the Union is more important. Yay, Maedhros, great job, you are doing well! (For now :((( )

Unfortunately C&C threathen Thingol with genocide, after they win the wart. Which they assume they will. So thingol fortifies and doesn't go to the war. (Mablung and Beleg go, but Thingol allows them reluctantely, so they end up better than Gwindor)

Bór! :) and Ulfang :(

Maedhros plays his hand a bit too early :(

Also, another mention of Morgoth's spies (plural) and traitors. So, I guess the fallen Men, enslaved Elves and shapeshifting wannabe-Saurons sabotage the Union as much as they can.

Battle, Fingon doubtful, problems, suddenly: Turgon! First good surprise of this battle (it will be a whiplash…)

The Noldor want to charge too quickly, but Hurin stops them, because he is wise.

Morgoth wants to kill Fingon especially. Why? Probably to break Maedhros. (Also, revenge for the rescue, maybe.)

Gwindor gets unlucky chance (that's what happens when you go to war against your king's orders, I suppose)

The Noldor get really motivated and almost win. Morgoth is trembling of fear XD as they bang at his door. This is pretty cool of them. But then they all die. :(

Another turn: the Noldor might have won, but Ulfang. :( [Maglor kills him and it's probably the only named character that we are told is killed by Maglor, which is interesting]

Also, Glaurung is there.

Fingon dies. Also, his banner is silver and pale blue, which I did not remember.

Hurin, Turgon, foreshadowing for Earendil. Maeglin hears it all, but does not comment, and he remembers it and I have no idea why the book tells us that, this line feels so odd. "Maeglin, Turgon's sister-son, who stood by, heard these words, and did not forget them; but he said nothing" It's apparently odd to more people because there's a reddit thread about it. huh, ok, makes sense.

So, Hurin is brave and great and I will need to make a post about how the story is an ecosystem and the benefit of one character's heroics sometimes lands to another character's lap and it's painful but also quite real. So. Hurin. But we'll get back to him later.

Morgoth is happy, because divides and betrayal and stuff like that. :/

Also this (Ulfang) is why the Elves don't like Men anymore (except the Edain).

Cirdan is besieged, allo we learn that there are Orcs who can use explosives, and orkish engineers and what not. Interesting. they destroy the ports, Cirdan&co escape to the sea and to Balar.

Turgon again sends ships to Valinor, again it doesn't work (again I suppose he didn't ask Ulmo about his opinion or ignored it), and we are told who kills those sailors: not the Valar. "Only one, Voronwe, was saved by Ulmo from Osse's wrath". So yea, it's the "not rebel, but not not-rebel" sea guy. Don't blame the Valar for this.

Turgon is the rightful king of the Noldor (says the book), Morgoth hates him, because Fingolfin, and because he's a friend of Ulmo, and because Turgon's vibe scares him. We have a wonderful line about how even back in Valinor Morgoth was anxious every time he saw Turgon and tbh this is criminally underexplored in fics (this whole period is) and must have been quite hilarious.

Hurin disses Morgoth, Morgoth curses him and his wife and kids, takes him high up, and curses him again for a good measure.

Results of that: in the next chapter.

[snarp]

Real True Law Stories

This is heavily-paraphrased because 1) it happened a while back, and the conversations were longer and involved a lot more of me going "no! no! augh," and 2) the case was not actually about Ale-8 bottles, but its actual focus was similarly-specific, which would have made it really easy to look up.

Dad: Can you value a collection of old Ale-8 bottles for me, honey?

Me: ...possibly, but I'm not going to. Is this a blasting case again? Did someone's designated used Ale-8 bottle shelf fall over?

Dad: No, they got stolen. He had this shed or big closet or something totally full of collectible Ale-8 bottles, he's got all these insurance photos, he'd had them appraised by the national Ale-8 bottle expert -

Mom: Dear...

Dad: No, he's definitely really upset about these lost Ale-8 bottles! He's traumatized! Do you think I don't deal with liars? ...He thinks his estranged drug-addict relative stole the Ale-8 bottles.

Me: No. That did not happen.

Mom: That's probably not what happened, dear.

Dad: Drug addicts steal stuff all the time, what is this -

Me: Dad, no, this is fucking logistically -

Dad: - don't, I'm telling the story, stop it - "logistically" -

Me: A drug addict would not steal and hock a huge collection of Ale-8 bottles! They're heavy and fragile and that's a ridiculous specialist hobby, logistically it'd be way too -

Mom: The bottles were definitely stolen, dear?

Me: Why wouldn't you just steal, like, the TV? Or the car or whatever?! You don't steal the Ale-8 bottles!

Dad: They were stolen! He was gone! He'd had a fight with this person, he couldn't get back into the house for a while, he came back and the bottles were gone, he was heartbroken!

Me: No! You don't steal the collection of Ale-8 bottles, that's not what you steal!

Dad: No, they knew he really liked these bottles, it was revenge or something? Seriously, he keeps asking me why I can't make the police go and arrest this person and find out where they put the bottles, he's really angry! He misses his bottles.

Mom: *sigh* Okay, dear. So the Ale-8 bottles were stolen and insurance won't cover them.

Dad, to Me: So you're going to try and value the Ale-8 bottle collection for me. It'll be easy.

Me: I am not.

Dad: He has a spreadsheet.

Me: No. - You said he already had it appraised!

Mom: Before the Ale-8 bottle heist...

Dad: He did! I mean. There's this guy who writes Ale-8 bottle valuation books, he lives - somewhere, and the client knows him over, I guess, an Ale-8 bottle club? Ale-8 bottle mailing list? On the internet. - and he came on this road trip to just look at these Ale-8 bottles in the guy's shed or closet! Does that make sense?

Me: If this is an actual collecting hobby that other people engage in, and not a scam - if Ale-8 bottle collecting is something that's real - then yes, that's normal if you've got a valuable collection, I guess? How much did he say all these Ale-8 bottles were worth, is this even a sane case to be taking if he's telling the truth?

Dad: [a very large number]

Mom, who has been quietly thinking about this while we do our manzai routine: Well, there are definitely other Ale-8 bottle collectors, honey. [name] likes them, I think?... That seems awfully high. He had them in a shed? Like a garden shed?

Dad: I've seen the book! He showed me the Ale-8 bottle book! It was a shed or a garage or a side room or something. They weren't outside.

Me: If what you're trying to figure out is whether this guy and the appraiser are for real, I'd just... look around online and make sure there are actually people buying and selling these things, and talking about them to the extent he says there are, I guess?

Mom: If there's a real community and a real buyer base.

Dad: The Ale-8 bottle book had numbers in it, like values.

Me: The numbers don't mean anything if his buddy wrote the book and if they're the only two people who care about Ale-8 bottles!

Dad: You know, you're awfully suspicious of these Ale-8 bottles...

Me: It's a completely ridiculous story. - You're suspicious of them, too! That's why you even asked me to value Ale-8 bottles!

Dad: You're just not a trusting person. You're paranoid. You know, I trust all my clients completely -

*My Ale-8-bottle-related-outrage HP drops too low and I die.*

Mom: No. What she's saying is that their book value -

Dad: Yeah, that's the word, their book value! Like a Kelley Blue Book value for a car, that's what this other guy does, he does the Blue Book for the bottles. So all I have to do is show the insurance company the Kelley Bottle Book, right?

Mom: No.

Dad: It's fine! The insurance company will be completely cooperative. What are they going to complain about, it's right there in the book.

Mom: Does the book reflect the market values of the bottles? The street values? Are these the prices that people pay on eBay or wherever when they're buying the bottles?

Dad: I don't know.

Mom: Are they the prices he paid for them?

Dad: I don't know. Probably.

*I finish my corpse-run and resurrect.*

Me: There's got to be an actual market for there to be market prices. People who buy the things and have opinions about how much they're worth and stuff.

Dad: Can you research that for me, honey? Research the Ale-8 bottle market?

Me: I'm not going to do that. You have [name] in the office, right? You are paying her money to do this stuff for you, correct?

Dad: You never want to help me. Help me research Ale-8 bottles. I don't know why my daughters never help me.

Mom: And then you have to prove all this stuff to the judge and jury. Will they believe that Ale-8 bottles are worth anything?

Me: Please show us how you will emotionally convince the jury that these Ale-8 bottles are worth money. Make it sound like you're really sad about the loss of the valuable Ale-8 bottle collection.

Dad: Nnnno! *laughs* Oh, my god, they're such bullshit! They're these little bottles! And he had zillions of them! He must have some sort of trauma in his past, I'm going to ask [Psychiatrist Who Acts As An Expert Witness In PTSD Cases] to examine him... - Well, this is some southern thing, like the little toy stock cars that guy had. I don't know, maybe a southern jury will buy it?

Me: Say that "a jury of your peers" means "a jury of Ale-8 bottle collectors."

Mom: Yeah, hope you get a collector on the jury or on the bench.

*- several months later -*

Dad: So do you want to hear what happened at court the other day? With my Ale-8 bottle guy?

Me: You're going to tell me about the Ale-8 bottle guy regardless. Did it turn out to be insurance fraud?

Dad: No, actually! - well, I don't know. "A reasonable doubt for a reasonable price!"

Mom: Dear.

Dad: So obviously the insurance guys are like, "this is bullshit! It's bullshit! Ale-8 bottles aren't worth anything, the whole thing is bullshit!" And I'm like, okay, well. And they don't want to go to mediation, and they give us this lowball number to settle, and, obviously, no.

Dad: So we go in front of Judge [X] the other day, and I'm like, *solemn expression* "Judge. My client has had his extremely valuable Ale-8 bottle collection stolen, and his insurance will not pay for it even though he had it personally appraised by The Ale-8 Bottle Man."

Me: Who is his buddy and who may well be artificially inflating the prices of stuff he and his friends have a lot of, sure.

Dad: You don't know that!

Mom: And opposing counsel said…?

Dad: So, [Other Lawyer], he got up there and he was like, "Well, Judge, I mean. Ale-8 bottles, right? They're Ale-8 bottles." And they start - but then the judge goes, "Actually. I wanted to say, I was looking over the documents in this case. And, well, I've got a bit of a collection myself - I've got the - 1492 Foofrall-something Bottle and a mint-condition Bluh-buh-buh Bottle, and" and then he just sits there and lists all these Ale-8 bottles he's got for like, several minutes.

Me: Is this a joke. Did this actually happen.

Dad: It happened! It did happen!

Me: Mom!

Mom: I know, dear. It happened. He is not making this up.

Dad: So I get out of there and I go over and talk to opposing counsel, and just! The looks on their faces! They looked so defeated.

Me: They've got to be really suspicious of you right now.

Mom: "Is this why he took the case? Did he know?"

Dad: No! I had no idea! I was just as flabbergasted as they are, I've never heard him - okay, did you know this terrible fact about Judge [X]? Did you know he was one of them? The Bottlers?

Mom: I did not know this. I knew that he golfed.

Dad: So, long story short, I kind of think that this case is going to settle?

Mom: Unless the bottles are just in his basement, and he posts a picture of them to his Facebook without thinking.

Dad: Huh?

Mom: Like your other guy.

Dad: Those weren't bottles.

[serene-faerie]

Okay, but imagine the Darkening of Valinor and the very First Kinslaying from the Teleri's perspective. It's almost a straight-up horror movie.

(This turned out to be longer and more fic-like than I thought, so I put it under the cut)

It's another ordinary day in Alqualondë. You've just spent the whole day sailing, and you've just returned to the harbour. The city is sparkling and beautiful in the evening light, and you're excited to tell your family about your day at sea.

You stop to chat with friends, trade stories and laugh before you continue on your way home. You are completely at peace, ready to end the day with a nice dinner.

Suddenly, in the blink of an eye, an all-consuming darkness falls upon the world. The beautiful light of the Two Trees has suddenly been extinguished. You can't see anything, not even your own hands in front of you.

You hear people crying out all around you in a cacophony of shock and terror. Your heart is racing against your chest. You don't know what's happening. Why is it so dark? What has happened to the Two Trees? Where has the light gone?

People stumble to light torches and candles and lanterns; anything to break this pitch darkness. Eventually, there are lanterns and torches lit up around the city. You've managed to find a torch, and now you can see in front of you again. But you're still scared. Everyone is just as confused and terrified as you are. No one knows what exactly is going on.

And then you start hearing news.

The Two Trees are dead. Melkor has destroyed them with the help of a terror named Ungoliant.

And now Melkor has just slain High King Finwë in Formenos.

You're horrified by the news. This is the very first time someone has been slain in Aman. And that too, Melkor, the most powerful Vala, has fallen to evil.

But the nightmare is far from over.

Not long after the news of Finwë's death has spread, an entire army comes marching to the gates of your city. It's an army composed entirely of Noldor, all of them carrying blades and spears and wearing helms upon their heads. You recognize some of your Noldorin friends in this army, but they may as well be strangers right now. Their eyes burn with an all-consuming anger and determination as they draw closer to the city.

And at the very front, leading this army, is Fëanor.

The sight of him scares you. His eyes burn with the fires of madness. It's obvious that he's grieved by the death of his father, but you don't like how he stares at your swan-ships, how unhinged his words are.

Then he demands to take your ships.

His demand leaves you speechless. Your friends are just as speechless, as is your king Olwë. The weight of Fëanor's demand is absurd. He claims that he needs them for vengeance. They need to get to Middle-earth so they can exact their revenge upon Morgoth and take back the Silmarils that he stole.

But the swan-ships are the pride of your kindred. You and your people have spent many long years crafting them and making them beautiful. And above all, your ships are vital to your daily lives. You need them for fishing, for sailing. The ships are as precious to you as the Silmarils are to Fëanor. And the Noldor don't know anything about sailing, and you don't want to see them wreck your creations that you worked so hard to make.

And that too, you do not like the prospect of waging war against Morgoth. It's obvious that Fëanor and his army aren't fully prepared for a war against a mighty fallen Vala. A campaign like this would need lengthy, proper planning.

Olwë tries to calm things down. He tries to talk sense into Fëanor, tries to dissuade him from his rage. But Fëanor is too far-gone to understand reason. And now he and his people start to insult you. They scorn you, claim that you would be nothing without their aid in building Alqualondë. Worse, your Noldorin friends are hurling similar insults. The words cut deep, and you're astonished. Are these really the same people whom you gladly received in your own home? Is this what they really think of you and your kind?

And then you notice some of the Noldor rushing towards your ships anyways. You and some of your Telerin friends rush after them, try to block their path. The Noldorin soldiers push you, insult you, and enough is enough. You spit in their face, and push one of them with all of your force.

"Get you gone, thief!" you shout. "You will not touch our ships!"

That's it. Swords are drawn, and Fëanor's shouting something you barely hear.

And then, the host of Noldor charges.

What follows is a horrific bloodbath. All around you, your kindred are being cut down by Noldorin blades. Their blood spills through the streets of Alqualondë, into the harbor. Their cries of anguish fill the air. You have nothing to fight back with, except your hunting knife. You try to fight back as much as you can, but the Noldor have the upper hand with their weapons. You watch your close friends get cut down, their bodies thrown off the ships they're trying to defend.

It hurts to fight back. You've never fought like this, so your movements are clumsy. Nevertheless, you manage to defend yourself. But your former Noldorin friends don't hesitate to fight you, and they leave you with many injuries.

It's a blur of chaos and bloodshed. At some point, a host led by Fingolfin joins in on the fray and you're all but outnumbered. In the end, your ships are stolen by Fëanor and his army, and they've left Alqualondë a ruin.

By some miracle, you've survived. But it doesn't feel like a miracle.

The air is heavy with the smell of blood and death. You hear the cries of your kindred all around you; pure, anguished wailing that shatters your heart. You stagger through the blood-stained streets, seeing the slain bodies of the people you know. You find the bodies of your friends floating in the harbour. Tears run hot down your cheeks, and you begin to weep. Your cries join those of your kindred as you collapse to your knees.

Other survivors find you. They take care of your injuries and bandage them. You help them, heal their wounds as well. But there's nothing that can heal the wounds dealt to your very heart and soul.

Then you learn that Fëanor has burned your ships. Those beautiful ships that you and your people have spent so many years crafting, they're gone forever.

It's another wound to your shattered soul.

You aren't alone in your grief. Lady Uinen has unleashed her own wrath upon the Noldor, sinking the stolen ships into the sea in her grief. The Valar also grieve for you, and Námo proclaims the Doom of the Noldor, barring them from returning to Aman. The Sindar, your kindred in Middle-earth, are just as furious on your behalf when they hear the news.

But it's all a cold comfort.

Eventually, you begin to heal. You help your kindred rebuild your ships, make them as beautiful as before. You sail them everyday, care for them, use them as they were meant to be used. But no matter what, it will never be the same.

Your community heals gradually. But the horror of the kinslaying still lingers in Alqualondë like a shadow; a festering wound that won't truly go away. They say that Morgoth is the ultimate evil, but what the Fëanorians did to your kindred was just as evil. Nothing can possibly erase the horror of that night, when blood spilled through the streets of Alqualondë.

You will never look at those Noldorin friends the same way again. You become very protective over your city, and your ships. Every year, your community holds a memorial, setting lanterns afloat in the water to remember those who died in the First Kinslaying.

You swear to never help the Noldor, even if they plead for forgiveness. It will be a lifetime before you're ready to forgive the Noldor for their betrayal.

And nothing they do can ever change that.

[starillusion13]

The light in darkness

Pairing: mafia leader !Taeyong x f!reader

Genre: Mafia, slight angst, fluff

Warnings: None...just mention of guns and try to kill. Threats, misunderstandings, unforgiving and forgiveness, false death news and rival gang. A lot of mafia shits and mutual understanding and love.

W.C: 4.1k network: @k-vanity

It’s supposed to be a birthday gift for my bestie @nctstar but ik it’s too late😭 please accept my token of love for you🎀

🔥🔥🔥 Fire in the eyes.

That's how his eyes were reflecting the massacre in front of him.

Building engulfed in the high-rise fire and dense white and gray smoke. A smirk appeared on the face of the leader, brushing back his hairs and kicking the small piece of rock with the tip of his shoe, he turned around to face his best friend.

"It's done, boss."

The leader just nodded and walked towards the car waiting for him in the distance and he knew that the mission was successful and his revenge was over.

As usual he succeeded in this mission too.

He killed you.

>>>><<<< 

Years had passed after the death of the CEO, Taeyong took over the organization, a well-known figure as the mafia leader of the leading group, NCT.

Despite his busy schedule, he always made time for his brother Mark, attending his university events and supporting his endeavors. Basically, you are Mark’s batchmate so it’s a gift for him to meet you whenever he goes to meet his set up spy --- his brother.

One night, as Taeyong was winding down after a long day after a mission, his phone rang. Seeing Mark's name on the screen, he answered immediately.

"Mark? What's wrong?" Taeyong asked, sensing the distress in his brother's voice.

"Hyung," Mark sobbed, barely able to get the words out. "She ruined everything. y/n... she destroyed our mission and tried to kill me."

Taeyong's heart sank.

y/n , someone Taeyong had come to know and trust. you seemed kind-hearted and genuinely in love with him. What could have happened to cause such a rift?

"Calm down, Mark. Tell me everything," Taeyong urged, trying to keep his own emotions in check.

Through broken words and stifled sobs, Mark recounted the story. He claimed that you had betrayed them, leaking confidential information that led to the destruction of the company. you had allegedly colluded with a rival to humiliate him and tarnish their reputation.

Taeyong was devastated, feeling betrayed by the person he loved most.

How could you do this to him?

He felt a surge of anger unlike anything he had ever experienced. you had seemed like the perfect girl, but now it appeared that you had a dark side. Taeyong vowed to make you pay for what you had done to them.

However, unknown to him, the truth was far more complicated than it seemed.

Taeyong began his plan for revenge with meticulous precision. He knew your routines and habits from the times you both have spent with each other and your social media posts.

Heck! He knows everything about you. He knows you. Not only your information and location but your feelings, your touch, your emotions, your voice and even your unspoken words.

So, your unspoken truth was also to betray him but why?

He let out a frustrated groan and aggressively brushed back his red hairs. The look on his face was absolute danger and the slit eyebrow with his finger rings brushing against them.

He can kill anyone.

You worked as a kindergarten teacher at a small school and often spent your evenings at a quaint café near your apartment. Taeyong decided to confront you there, where you would least expect it.

Or maybe you expect him?

One evening, he found you sitting alone at the café, engrossed in a book. Taking a deep breath, he approached your table, his mind set on exposing your deceit.

"Y/n," he said, his voice steady but cold.

You looked up, your eyes widening in surprise. "Taeyong? What are you doing here?"

It's been a month he had last contacted you and you didn’t question him further because Mark told you that he was busy with something and you better know that the mafia life is not something to play.

"I need to talk to you," Taeyong replied, sitting down across from you without waiting for an invitation. "About us."

Your expression softened, a hint of sadness in your eyes. "Us? What happened? Are you okay?"

Taeyong's anger flared. "Don't pretend you care. You know exactly what you did."

The anger on his face with the burning eyes staring at the soft and calm eyes of yours.

Confusion clouded your features. "What are you talking about?"

"You ruined everything ," Taeyong said, his voice rising. "You betrayed me,...even tried to kill my brother."

You ruined…betrayed…tried to kill?

He grabbed your forearm and dragged you outside the café. You didn’t even protest or fight back, maybe because your mind was already clouded with the accusation and his hatred towards you.

Doesn’t he trust you?

You kept staring at him until he took you to the nearby alley and harshly pushed you against the wall. You hissed when your back hit the concrete wall and bit down your lips to prevent any sob to escape.

Taeyong can’t hurt you, right?

He trusts you…yes yes he does.

Tears welled up in your eyes, and you shook her head. "No, Taeyong, that's not true. I would never do anything to hurt Mark and you."

"Save your lies," Taeyong spat, his heart pounding with rage. "I won't let you get away with this."

He slammed his hand beside your head. His eyes flaring in rage and you flinch at the sudden move but his emotions didn’t falter. He was fuming and could kill you anytime.

And he will.

Trying to touch his face, you slid a hand to his cheeks but he swatted it away and glared. “don’t try to make me trust you… I thought I had you. You are someone to me whom I can love forever. I wanted to leave all this shit just to be with you but you are the one who is trying to end everything…along with me.”

He scoffed, “what will you get from all these? Money? Power? Or are you just with me for someone else?” he grabbed your cheeks, your skin burning under his grip, he didn’t care the tears flowing down your eyes, “Tell me, y/n!”

He doesn’t want love.

He wanted revenge.

He wanted to kill you so that he won't regret loving someone who broke his trust. Someone he loved with everything.

He pulled his gun from the strap and held it to your head. Your wide eyes earned a sickening smirk from him, “I hate that I love you, y/n. I hate everything. I hate myself for trusting you.” He pressed the gun hard, you were not crying, not even flinching, not even fighting against it, “but I hate that I can’t hate you. Why? Y/n, get the fuck out of m, get the fuck out of my sight.”

You were staring blankly at him. it was like a void surrounded you where nothing else you can see or hear, it's only you and him and his hatred. And your emotions? You want to run away from him but still you want to stay close to him.

You accepted the situation, grabbing his leather jacket and clutching it tightly, you closed your eyes and whispered, “I can’t unlove you, Taeyong. Shoot.” You tried to smile but couldn’t so you breathed heavily, you didn’t want to meet his gaze, “I can’t see you hate me. I don’t want you to hate us. I love you, Taeyong.”

You waited for his action, his voice or the pull of the trigger but you heard nothing until he uttered under his breath, “I wish I hated you.”

Before you could respond, Taeyong stormed out of the alley, his mind set on finding more concrete evidence of your betrayal. Despite the nagging feeling that your reaction had been genuine, the anger inside him was doubting his every thought.

Did he just try to kill you?

Your eyes fluttered open and your eyes followed how he crossed the street and got on his bike. Before he could start the engine, he turned towards you, his face was hidden under the helmet except his eyes but you didn’t know what to feel at this exact moment.

There was relief in his eyes.

You are alive and he didn’t kill you.

But you clenched your teeth. Taeyong tried to kill you and still you chose to trust him and accept your fate in his hands. You are pathetic, y/n.

The bike went off to the dark endless highway, leaving behind you standing there in the lonely alley.

He loved you and trusted you.

After Mark, you are the most precious person to him and he couldn't believe that in the end, you were going to be the one to break him.

.

.

.

Days turned into weeks, and Taeyong's investigation grew more intense. He hacked into your email and social media accounts, searching for anything that could prove your guilt. He followed you discreetly, hoping to catch you in a compromising situation.

If you were someone else then he would have killed you on the spot. He wouldn't have thought twice about it, but you are someone he can't even hate for a moment and…how could he end it?

He loves you.

But you betrayed him and he believes in revenge.

To destroy you.

And his men followed his order to end you.

They ended the chapter of yours.

.

.

>>>><<<< 

.

.

However, what he found in his search after that only deepened the mystery.

your messages were filled with concern for him. you had been trying to reach him, desperate to explain something. your social media posts depicted a girl heartbroken and confused, not the scheming villain Taeyong had imagined. As he delved deeper, he began to uncover pieces of a different story.

One evening, Taeyong found himself sitting in his apartment, surrounded by printouts of your whereabouts, emails and social media messages. He had spent countless hours piecing together the puzzle, and now he was starting to see a different picture. you had always been a protective sister and friend to Mark, but your efforts had been misconstrued, leading to a series of misunderstandings.

The real villain was someone Taeyong had a hunch of, a man named Hongjoong, who is the leader of Ateez and had been envious of Taeyong's success and had framed you to get him out of the scenario. you had no idea of Hongjoong's scheme and never tried to doubt him when they met at a cafe, but your meetings and messages had been intercepted and twisted to make you look guilty.

Realization hit Taeyong like a ton of bricks. He had been wrong about you. you weren't the villain—you were the victim, just like him. His heart sank as he realized the pain he had caused you with his unjust accusations.

And…he can’t apologize because that day, he burned that building, where apparently you were there. He didn’t know earlier but the next day he got the message from his members. You are no more and he hates himself more because the last words he heard from you was your love for him but he showed his hatred to you.

Will you forgive him after death?

"y/n, I'm so sorry," Taeyong whispered, his voice trembling. "I should have trusted you."

.

.

.

The moon hung low in the night sky, casting an eerie glow over the bustling city. As the leader of the most powerful mafia gang in the city, he commanded respect and loyalty from his men. But despite his cold and calculated demeanor, his heart had always been haunted by a single, lost love.

Years ago, a rival gang had taken everything from him.

 His empire had been on the verge of collapse, and in the midst of the chaos, he lost the only girl he had ever loved. Taeyong believed you had been killed in the crossfire, --- killed by him.

your death had fueled his ruthless rise to power. Your memory was the ghost that guided his hand as he crushed his enemies and expanded his dominion.

Tonight, however, was different.

Taeyong's trusted lieutenant, Jaehyun, approached him as he stood in his luxurious penthouse, looking out over the city. "Taeyong, we've got intel on The New Rival. They're targeting our shipments. If we don't act soon, we'll lose millions."

Taeyong turned, his sharp eyes glinting with determination. "Arrange a meeting. I want to confront this one face to face."

Jaehyun nodded and hurried off to make the arrangements. Taeyong's mind raced as he considered the possibility of a new threat. He had faced many enemies over the years, but there was something different about this one.

The meeting was set for midnight in a deserted warehouse on the outskirts of the city.

His men went before but he delayed the time. People should have patience to meet him and he loves to see them getting anxious waiting for him. He smirked at the thought and started the engine of his bike.

Taeyong arrived with his most trusted men, each one armed and ready for a confrontation. He stood in the center of the garden of the warehouse, his sharp eyes scanning the darkness for any signs of movement.

“kill them at once.” He ordered his men and they all went into their directions, leaving him alone in the front gate from where only the leader would greet him.

The door creaked open, and a figure clad in black stepped in front. The figure moved with a fluid grace, their face obscured by the darkness. Taeyong's heart pounded in his chest as he watched the figure approach.

It’s familiar somehow and the only name is flashing inside his head. He shook off the feeling and tilted his head.

In the shadows, the name "Taeyong" was whispered with both reverence and fear.

"I've been waiting for this moment," Taeyong said, his voice steady despite the turmoil within him. "You've caused quite a stir. It's time we end this."

The figure chuckled softly, a sound that sent a shiver down Taeyong's spine. "You don't recognize me, do you, Taeyong?"

The voice was familiar, achingly so. Taeyong's mind raced as he tried to place it. The figure reached up and slowly stood in front, revealing a face he had never expected to see again.

"y/n..." he whispered, his voice cracking with emotion.

you, his lost lover, stood before him, alive and very much real. your eyes, once filled with love and warmth, now burned with a fierce determination. Those glistening eyes he last saw in that alley.

"Surprised to see me?" you asked, a smirk playing on your lips.

Taeyong's world tilted on its axis. "But... I thought you were dead. They told me you were killed."

"They lied," you replied, your expression hardening. "I was taken by that rival gang, yes, but I escaped from the building. And now, I've been fighting from the shadows, trying to bring down the very empire you built. You know your most trusted men helped me in this."

Taeyong took a step back, the weight of your words crashing down on him. "Why, y/n? Why would you want to destroy everything I've worked for?"

your eyes flashed with anger. "Because you changed, Taeyong. The man I loved would never have become this... monster. You've become everything you once fought against. You even tried to do the very same thing which you accused me of." you repeatedly hit his chest with your index finger.

Taeyong felt a surge of conflicting emotions. He had been driven by revenge, by the need to avenge your deed ---- the stupid information he trusted. Then your death shifted something inside him --- the thing he even hated about himself but also loved the change. He blamed it on you.

You have turned him like this.

But now, seeing you alive, he realized how far he had strayed from the person he once was.

"I did it for you," he said, his voice trembling. "Everything I did, it was because I thought I had lost you."

you stepped closer, your gaze softening for the first time. "You didn't lose me, Taeyong. You lost yourself. Also, didn’t you want to kill me." you looked up at the sky, “I believed for a moment that you will shoot and that’s the end.”

Again, you met his lost and shocked gaze, “but still I trusted you, Taeyong. And I should say the same thing today… I wish I hated you the same way you did.”

A tense silence filled the place as the two stood face to face, years of pain and longing reflected in their eyes.

The men outside the warehouse and around were oblivious to the emotional battle unfolding within you two. You both heard gunshots and noticed Jaehyun running towards the two of you. For a second, he halted when he saw you. He definitely knew you were alive, of course he was one of the men who helped you to hide from the world because after that mission, if anyhow the rivals knew that you were alive they would definitely try to kill you.

And they knew that would not be good for Taeyong.

But seeing you in the area of their rival was not sitting right. He didn’t say anything to you but turned towards Taeyong, “we have captured the leader. The others will take him to the base and we are cleaning the mess here quickly.”

They both exchanged nods and he ran off.

You flinched at the gunshots and then some shouts. Taeyong noticed, he noticed your every detail today and he won't let you slip like the last time, he grabbed your hand and started running towards a direction away from the warehouse, nearly the edge of the cliff. His bike was parked there and stopped beside it.

“Are you going to push me off here?”

You didn’t know what reply you could expect but suddenly he pulled you in his embrace, “never. y/n, you are everything to me. even if I did hurt you and hate you. Just know I hate myself more. y/n…I can’t hate you. I love you so much. I love you.” He planted a kiss on the crown of your head.

You hesitated to hug him at first but soon you let yourself melt in his arms, those warming and restless nights and whispered promises flashing in front of your nights when you both shared life and promised to stay for eternity. That can’t be over in years. He took two years to meet you again.

He hugged you tighter when he felt your arms wrapping around him, your ear pressed against his chest could pick up his heartbeat increasing its pace. He placed his chin on top of your head, “I don’t know what you are doing here today but please y/n let me prove every mistake I have made. I won’t hurt you again. I want to love you, y/n. I know probably it’s too late, might be…you have already given up on me.”

He doesn’t want to kill you.

He wants to love you.

Finally, you spoke. "It's not too late, Taeyong. We can fix this. But you have to choose—continue down this path of darkness, or find a way to make things right. Also, I knew this rival was friends with Hongjoong and I came here in the hope to meet you in person. I have watched you from shadows and always Jaehyun told me that to trust you that you love me."

Taeyong looked into your eyes, the love he had buried deep within him rekindling. He knew the choice he had to make. With a deep breath, he reached out and took your hand.

"I will choose you," he said, his voice filled with resolve. "Together, we'll tear down this empire and build something better. Please, have trust in me."

You looked up at his face, “it’s not about ending this empire. It’s about us --- you and me individually and together. This is your life, Taeyong and I won’t snatch away the things from you for which you have worked hard for years. But I want you to believe in me and yourself. It hurt me when you looked at me the way you looked at your rivals. I am not your enemy, Taeyong.”

You cupped his cheek, “I would end myself before hurting you. I would do anything to protect you.”

His fingers circled around your wrist and whispered, “I know.”

You shook your head, “you don’t know that you are different to me than anyone else.”

“how?”

“You are my only fire and light in this dark world.”

He kissed the side of your palm and smiled, brushing your hairs away from the face with his slender fingers, he placed  a soft kiss on your forehead, “I can burn like a sun in this darkness for others--- to end them with my rage and power but for you I will light like a moon—calm and contended for you to love me ad trust me. I’m sorry, y/n.”

“Taeyong… you didn’t kill me. even though you tried…”

“don’t defend my actions, y/n. I definitely did wrong.” He turned serious and his voice was heavy and low.

This time you smiled, “but you didn’t. you hesitated because I know you love me. you are not the person I know to hesitate in this situation. You are a perfect leader. I am proud of you.”

“You are too innocent, y/n. I love you.” He pecked your lips. His lips on you felt so surreal after years and you wanted to taste it more. Not now but maybe later. You can wait for it and him. you have waited for so long and now you can wait with him.

His lips ghosted over yours when you whispered, “I know you will guide my innocence. I love you too, Taeyong.”

As they drove off the place hand in hand, the future was uncertain. But for the first time in years, Taeyong felt a glimmer of hope. He had been given a second chance with his lost love, and he intended to make the most of it, even if it meant facing the shadows of his past.

The days that followed were fraught with danger.

Taeyong's decision to dismantle his rivals was met with fierce resistance from his own men and rival gangs alike. Many saw his actions as a sign of weakness for his lover, and attempts were made on his life. But Taeyong and you stood united, your bond stronger than ever.

You are not his weakness but his strongest ability.

you used your knowledge of the underworld to aid Taeyong in his mission. you had spent years gathering information, and now, they used it to systematically help Taeyong in his missions. He included you as his partner in this world. It was of course against his choice --- mostly yours. He didn’t want to risk your life but your determination to help him made him proud of his lover. You both exposed corrupt officials, freed those who had been wronged by the rivals, and reclaimed the city from the clutches of their darkness.

One night, as you both sat together in a small, hidden safehouse, Taeyong looked at you with gratitude. "I wouldn't have been able to do this without you," he admitted.

you smiled, your eyes filled with warmth. "We've both changed, Taeyong. But together, we can create something good out of all this chaos."

your journey was far from over.

The city was still rife with corruption, and there were many who would stop at nothing to see you both fail. But for Taeyong and you, the fight was worth it. you have found each other again, and in doing so, you have found a new purpose.

The purpose of living for each other.

As you faced the challenges ahead, Taeyong knew one thing for certain: he would protect you with his life, just as you had protected him. Together, you would forge a new path, one where love and redemption could flourish amidst the shadows of your past.

To the city he is the fiercely burning sun but he would hide to be your moon in the darkness.

Note here💌:

So, you have two good news. One: I'm going to post another fic today...clap your hands💋

Another, I'm going to start writing Smuts again coz say thanks to my bestie because she made my mood lift up in past weeks and I'm out of that zone and yes spicy fics incoming soon👹

Thanks for reading and reblogging. Your reviews and comments are always appreciated. Spread love not hate.

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[deception-united]

Hello, I love your blog. I'm writing a story about cheating and I was wondering how you write the person finding out and the couple breaking up making it clingy and annoying?

Hi, thanks for asking! Writing about cheating and the fallout can be emotionally intense, so it's important to approach it with sensitivity and realism. Though this is a very general mould, it would typically go something like this:

Build trust: Start by creating a strong foundation of trust and intimacy between the couple before the cheating occurs. This makes the betrayal more impactful.

Foreshadowing: You may want to drop subtle hints or foreshadow events that hint at the possibility of infidelity. This builds suspense and keeps readers engaged—though you may decide to go about it with a different approach and make it as much of a shock for the reader as it is for the character.

Discovery: The moment the person finds out about the cheating should be a pivotal and emotionally charged scene. Consider different ways they might discover the truth - catching the cheater in the act, finding incriminating evidence, or hearing about it from someone else.

Emotional reaction: Show the emotional turmoil of the person who's been cheated on. Their initial shock, disbelief, anger, and heartbreak should be vividly portrayed, whether through the narrative (if it's in their POV), their thoughts, actions, or dialogue.

Confrontation: The confrontation between the couple can be a powerful scene. Explore the dynamics of their relationship as they confront the betrayal and try to make sense of what happened. Make it intense and dramatic, with raw emotions pouring out. It's important to use dialogue that reflects the feelings of betrayal and hurt.

Escalation: As the truth comes out and emotions run high, the situation may escalate, leading to a heated argument or even a physical altercation. Be mindful of realistic consequences and character reactions.

Aftermath: Show the aftermath of the breakup: the emotional fallout for both parties involved, any collateral damage to friendships or family relationships, the process of healing and moving on (or not. Revenge and resentment is good, too), and how the experience changes the characters. This will add depth and carry the story forward.

Here are some tips to keep in mind:

Emphasise overreaction: Show one or both parties overreacting to the situation. This could involve exaggerated emotions, dramatic accusations, or unreasonable demands.

Focus on insecurities: Highlight the insecurities of the person who discovers the cheating. This could involve them constantly seeking reassurance or displaying jealousy even in unrelated situations.

Miscommunication: Introduce misunderstandings or misinterpretations that fuel the high-strung emotions present in the altercation. Perhaps the person who discovers the cheating misinterprets innocent actions as signs of further betrayal.

Obsessive behaviour: Show the person exhibiting obsessive behaviour. Namely, stalking.

Guilt-tripping: Have the person who discovers the cheating guilt-trip the other person, making them feel overly responsible for the situation and manipulating them emotionally. This could also work the other way around.

Introduce third parties: Include meddling friends or family members who exacerbate the situation by taking sides, spreading rumors, or encouraging certain behaviour.

Unhealthy dependence: You can depict the person who discovers the cheating as overly dependent on the relationship for their happiness and sense of self-worth, making the breakup even more devastating for them.

Exaggerate emotional rollercoaster: Showcase extreme mood swings, from intense anger and resentment to desperate pleas for reconciliation, creating a rollercoaster of emotions that can be exhausting for the other party.

Avoid rational dialogue: Keep the conversation between the couple filled with emotional outbursts and irrational accusations rather than rational discussions, preventing any resolution or closure.

Prolong the drama: Drag out the breakup process with unnecessary confrontations, repeated arguments, and attempts at reconciliation, making it feel drawn-out and tiresome for both characters and readers alike and making the resolution or aftermath all the more satisfying.

Again, all this depends on your story and characters, but I hope this is helpful nonetheless. Happy writing ❤

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