#and how hard he worked to even make the showdown

[hyperfixating-rn-brb]

The Good Omens Fandom has had a lot of fun recently with the knowledge of Aziraphale and Crowley holding hands on the bus at the end of season 1.

Soo here's everything that went through my head as I learned of it for the first time.

For that entire scene, Aziraphale is really far gone. He's dissociating so hard he can't even realize he's been sitting on a sword. Crowley is probably the only thing keeping him grounded.

They just narrowly stopped Armageddon after a showdown with literally Satan, and still can't let their guard down. For the first time ever, they're completely on their own side. Now they have to orchestrate a body swap to save both of them. They wouldn't just be killed, they'd be completely destroyed. Everything must go exactly according to plan, but how often does that actually happen?

And on top of that, his bookshop, his home, his safe place with the demon he has to pretend not to love is burned and gone.

Crowley is so incredibly gentle and reassuring this entire scene. He's been through so much trauma himself and has spent a lot of his existence shielding the angel from it, hoping to protect some of his innocence and naivete. Crowley is absolutely familiar with every symptom of PTSD and anxiety.

Now he has to see his sweet angel see such a small bit of the horrors of heaven and hell and start to crumble inside. He's going to do his dam best to try and help Aziraphale through it. Speaking softly, ("the bookshop burned down... remember?) slowly and carefully, gradually helping to pull the angel back to reality, reminding him that he's there and will help ground him.

They get on the bus, and sit next to each other. 11 years ago, they sat nearby but separated while Crowley begs Aziraphale to help him prevent the Apocalypse. Now they are sitting together. Both an act of reassurance and unity.

Crowley sits first, Aziraphale could so easily just sit across from him, behind or in front. But he chooses to sit right next to him. And hold his hand. Aziraphale desperately needs to be near to the *former* demon he loves, to hold him, to make sure they won't be separated.

In the book, their famous lines of "none of this would have worked out if you weren't, deep down, just a bit of a good person" and "just enough of a b*stard to be worth liking" came as Satan rose from the earth, as a goodbye in case they were destroyed.

Luckily, that didn't happen and they survived. Armaggedon was stopped. But the angel is still so anxious of losing Crowley. So he chooses to reach out, to anchor himself and reassure himself that Crowley is still there beside him and that they are okay, at least for a few minutes.

And Crowley let him. He knows how badly Aziraphale needs him, he needs the angel just as much. He knows how badly he craved an anchor and support system as he was first abused and traumatized by his Fall, then further by Hell. So he's going to continue being there for Aziraphale, doing everything he can to make his angel feel safe and comfortable.

Over the next few years, Aziraphale would become so much more comfortable reaching out and touching Crowley. Leaning into him, resting a hand on his shoulder or briefly touching his chest. Somehow both reassuring himself that the former demon was still there, and reminding Crowley that he's still there for him at the same time.

Then Crowley becomes more comfortable with the touch, leaning into the angel by himself. No longer flinching at a sudden graze of a hand or reassuring squeeze.

That one moment of the two holding hands on the bus cemented so much of their relationship. "The last few years, not really..." all started on that bus the moment Aziraphale chose to sit down next to Crowley.

edited: at first this said "new knowledge" because I just found out about this all the other day, and wrote this up at 3 AM, and didn't really fact check when this knowledge became well known. I've only really been a GO fan since maybe 2021, and only really started being active in the fandom during the last few months, so a lot of info that is fairly well known is still generally new to me. soo yeah this was edited :)

source for anyone asking for it!

[i-cant-sing]

Time Traveller AU part 9

Part 1 is here. Part 2 is here. Part 3 is here. Part 4 is here. Part 5 is here. Part 6 is here. Part 7 is here. Part 8 is here. Time Traveller au masterlist is here. Check out my MASTERLIST for more!

Part 10 is here.

"I think you should take off your veil now. You need to impress the princes so that one of them could take pity and marry you. Or you could try black magic-"

"Baris, I will pull your tongue out and strangle you with it if you say another word." You muttered, holding your head in your hands.

After Baris landed the "marriage bomb" on you last night, you've been stressed. Why did I have to teach Mihirmah? Why did I have to accept the bracelet? Why did I-

"You have bags under your eyes, and considering that they're the only feature visible, its not good-" You threw a pillow at him, which he dodged easily. You hadnt slept at all, how could you? You tried to figure out a plan, that didnt work. You tried to fix your time machine, that was not going to work at all without tools.

"You could be wrong." You mumbled, opening your eyes as you stared ahead. "This bracelet could be nothing but just a kind gesture. It is not a marriage proposal. You're wrong-"

Baris cut you off. "I know it seems impossible, considering how you look, even I'm surprised- but I'm never wrong, Y/n. I've worked here for more 25 years, I know what everyone thinks." You stared at him with a pinched expression.

"You have to help me, Baris."

He smiled. "Of course, you'd be lost cause else wise! I'll get the seamstress to make you some new clothes-"

"No, I meant- you have to help me escape. I cant- I dont want to get married!"

He scoffed. "Darling, we're alone right now. You can drop the "I dont wanna marry a prince and enjoy the luxuries of the world" act."

"I mean it!" You huff.

"And why is that?"

"Because-" you bit your lip. What excuse can you possibly come up with to satisfy him?

"I love someone else."

"How tragic." He said monotonously. "Love has no place in the harem. You're here to attract, serve and please the royal family." He walked closer to you, leaning down as he lowered his volume. "And I'm going to give you some advice: you better not use that excuse again, never even MUMBLE about having a lover again, not unless you want to be tortured and executed for being a traitor."

You knew what he was referring to. The harem, the concubines, the whole palace was filled with jealousy. If anyone were to hear about this, they would use it against you, conjure up such vulgar lies that the sultan will chop off your head.

"Baris I cant-"

"You dont have a choice, Y/n." He cut you off harshly. "I suggest you suck it up and pretend to be happy or else you'll be in for a hard life."

"Now, get ready. You need to teach a lesson."

-

"You look sick."

You resist rolling your eyes. "Yes, I know I'm ugly. Thank you for keeping me updated."

Mihirmah shook her head. "No, I mean you dont look well. Are you alright?"

No, I lost sleep because of you and-

"Just tired, Mihirmah. I think we've should stop here today." You watched her beam.

"Finally! Now we can celebrate!" Mihirmah clapped her hands as the servants brought in some tea and sweets. She had initially wanted to celebrate her victory from last night as soon as you came in, but you wanted to get the lesson done with so that you could leave.

"You enjoy it. You did a good job." You tried to excuse herself but she frowned.

"I did. And so did you! I mean, the way you made Mahidevran shut up! It was amazing!" She took a piece of sweet and handed it to you. "Besides, my father appreciated your efforts as well-"

You looked down at the bracelet. This was more of a death sentence than a gift.

"Mihirmah." You took off your bracelet. "I- I appreciate the sultan's gift, but I cant accept this. Its too much- its-" you mentally rolled your eyes at your next excuse. "Its above me."

She furrowed her brows. "Even if that may be the case, which its not because you fully deserve that after the showdown, you still cannot refuse or return a sultan's gift, much less one that he made himself!" She tilted her head. "What is really going on? Why do you not want the bracelet? And dont say its not to your taste, because lets face it- you probably have not seen jewels like this in your life."

Biting the inside of your cheek to prevent the insults from slipping out, you took a breath.

"I... heard that..." you took another breath. How do you say "I dont want the bracelet because I dont wanna marry any of your brothers" without sounding narcissistic. "I... I heard that there might be a different meaning behind the bracelet. That it may signify... something else."

"Which is...?" She prompted you.

You exhaled.

"That I might be considered to be... a spouse for a sehzade."

Mihirmah snorted as you looked down to conceal both your embarrassment and fear.

"I'm sorry- what did you say?" She was laughing now. You continued to look down. As long as she's laughing and not getting mad at you for even suggesting such a thing, you're fine. Besides, if she's laughing then it means that all that bullshit Baris was spewing earlier was just that- bullshit.

"You think- my father, the sultan, wants you- YOU, to marry one of his sons?" She wiped a tear away from her eye as she laughed. "That is the most ridiculous idea I've ever heard. True, father does only give handmade gifts to those he considers close, but I dont think thats true in your case, Y/n. You're just my teacher, that's all. Besides, even if you were to be considered as a potential spouse for my brothers, you have my mother and Mahivdevran standing in your way. And trust me, they're going to marry their sons to someone they like. You- they cant even tolerate you as my teacher at this point of time."

Sighing in relief, you nod. "Well, that's great to hear-"

"Wait." Mihirmah narrows her eyes at you. "If you thought that my father wanted to marry you to one of his sons, why did you want to return the bracelet? Did you- did you not want to marry my brother?"

Oh shit. "Mihirmah no-" You tried to pacify her.

But she snapped at you. "What? You think you're better than my brothers? Any of them? You'd be lucky if Mehmed or Mustafa chose you, if such a miracle does happen."

Your eyes were wide at her venomous tone. You dont know whether it was because she was protective of her brothers, or if she just really hated the idea that you would consider rejecting royalty.

A few more moments of silence went by. "You misunderstand me, sultana." You chose her title to please her. "I know of my status, and I am well aware of how... lowly I am to be a part of this family. The only reason I was returning the bracelet was because... I didnt want the harem to assume things and threaten or hurt me. I am aware that the sehzade have their favourite concubines, much better equipped to their tastes. But if they were to see this bracelet gifted by the sultan on me, they would... it would cause misunderstandings. I just wanted to avoid that."

Your words were carefully selected to not aggravate her any further, which it didnt but they also didnt calm her down.

Mihirmah's face was still sour. "The concubines are smart enough to figure out who's a competition and who's just a mere servant. You have nothing to worry about."

The words stung but... you just bowed and took your leave instead of slapping her across the face.

Mehmed had just turned the corner when he saw you leaving Mihirmah's room with tears pooling in your eyes, the niqaab only causing them to look more prominent.

He entered Mihirmah's room, finding his sister looking angry as she gazed into space.

"Mihirmah?" He sat down beside her, noticing how she didnt immediately light up as she always did when he came. What did you do to piss her off so much?

He cupped her face to look at him. "What's wrong? Tell me."

-

You're laying in your bed, arm over your eyes as you try to think of a way out of here.

When will the time machine work again?

Its not like you can go out of the palace to get help or even tools to work on it, and you always fear that someone just may walk in on you tinkering with the machine. The only place where you can get privacy in this palace here is the dungeons, only because its dark and oh-so-daunting that it doesnt really attract people there.

There's a knock on your door. With a grunt, you get up and open the door, only to find no one there. Your room was in the harem, but it was on the upper floor, so you could see the whole area from above, including the silhouette of someone leaving the harem doors.

Normally, you wouldn't have bothered with the "door bell pranks", but you made your way down because 1. you're not familiar with what this might mean, maybe some royal summoned you and you're to follow the servant. 2. you're bored.

When you left the harem and looked to your left, spotting the back of a girl in red dress, you knew she was baiting you to follow her. So you did, turning around the corridor only to be body slammed to the wall.

3 women surround you, blocking any escape routes. They're all glaring at you, and you recognise their faces. They're the concubines.

You clear your throat. "Well? I suppose you have something to say that you couldnt say in there."

The brunette in front of you narrows her eyes. "Who do you think you are?"

"Why dont you tell me?"

Her glare intensifies. "You think you can just bat your lashes and whore yourself to the sehzade?"

"Heh?"

The raven haired girl on her right grabbed your throat and banged your head against the wall behind. "Dont play dumb! We know you're trying to marry the prince!"

The blonde on the left banged your head against the wall this time, gritting out "Stay away from sehzade Mustafa!"

"And sehzade Mehmed!" the brunette warned, repeating the same assault as the other two.

You took a deep breath, closing your eyes as you rubbed the sore spot on the back of your head. "None of your accusations are true. Unlike you, I actually have a respectable job here-"

"We saw the bracelet! You think you can just prance around here, pretending to be this holy and pure, untainted girl while we work ourselves to the bone to get in bed?!" The brunette screamed at you, getting in your face.

You pushed her away. "First of all, I am not interested in marrying anyone. Secondly, the bracelet means nothing than a job well done. And finally- you seem to mistake your status over me. I dont work for you, or under you. So, this is for earlier-" You slapped her hard across the face, making her fall. The other two were in shock, and you took that as an opputunity to slap them too.

"Now, we're even." You huffed, adjusting your niqaab before turning on your heel to leave. You needed to slap them, not only because you need to let them know they cant bully you, but also because you needed to release some steam. It felt good, you wont lie. You may have even imagined some people's faces as you smacked them-

"Omph!" You're pushed to the ground, flipped over onto your back. You grab on to the hands that are wrapped around your neck, eyes wide as the brunette starts to choke you.

"You stupid bitch!" She screamed as you fought hard to pull her hands away. She yanked the veil off your face, smacking your cheek hard enough to scratch you with her sharp nails.

"Laira stop-" the blonde tried to pull her off you but Laira continued to beat you.

"Hand me the torch!"

"Laira-" The blonde started again but the raven haired grabbed the fire sconce off the wall and handed it to Laira.

You stared in horror as she brought the torch closer to your face, the heat radiating. She grinned manically, one hand still squeezing your throat.

"You're not even that pretty for a sehzade. Did you use black magic on them?" She clicked her tongue, while your eyes were fixated on the torch. "I guess, it wont be futile to ruin your face for guarantee."

"Please no-" she choked you harder with her man hands that you just couldnt seem to pry off, and you sort of became paralysed as the dancing flames took you back to the night in the desert, when the assassins set your tent on fire. Everything slowed down, and noise drowned out like in the movies.

Salauddin. Help-

The flames suddenly vanish from your view as Laira is thrown off you.

"What the hell do you think you are doing?!" The man roared behind you. Your eyes moved from the shaking concubines to your saviour.

Ibrahim pasha.

"Pasha bey-"

"Shut it. Guards! Throw them to the dungeons!" Ibrahim yelled and automatically, 4 Janisarries appeared from behind him and dragged the wailing girls away.

Ibrahim looks down at you, his eyes shifting from rage to sympathy. He crouches down and helps you sit up, his touch gentle.

"Are you alright, Hatun Y/n?" You're staring at him in a daze, your body has not recovered enough to physically react, almost on autopilot.

Say something.

"Y/n?" He asks again, his brows furrowing as his concern deepens. Why does everything sound so far, so low?

He snaps his fingers near your ear, and your brain finally reacts.

"Y-yes." You tear your gaze away, looking at the fire torch lying on the ground far from you.

Fire. Second time you were almost burnt to death.

"Come on." He helps you up, gently tugging you to follow him. A few shaky steps later, you follow him to your room.

He sat you down on the bed. "There we go." Ibrahim pasha scanned your face for any burns or injuries, noting the nail marks from the slap.

"Baris Agha!" Ibrahim called and a few seconds later, the eunuch stumbled in.

"Yes, pasha- ya Allah, what happened to-"

"Baris." Ibrahim snapped at him. "Get me bandages and healing balm. And keep quiet about this." Baris only nodded before following orders.

You cleared your throat. "I... thank you for saving me, pasha." Ibrahim smiled courteously as he sat on a chair nearby.

"It was my duty. Sultan Suleiman had asked me to keep an eye on you."

Your brows furrowed. "Why?"

Ibrahim looked at the bracelet around your wrist. "I suppose you did something to make him pleased."

He relaxed in his chair, crossing his arms across his chest. "So... what happened with the concubines?"

"Misunderstanding." You said dismissively.

"And what that might be?" He prodded. When you didnt reply, he sighed. "I am the pasha, the sultan's right hand. I am supposed to know what happens in the palace."

"Its nothing of significance. You can let the girls out of the dungeon."

"I'm afraid that decision is not upto you." Ibrahim deadpanned. "If you do not wish to tell me, fine. I have other ways of finding out." He made his threat clear and began standing up.

"Wait!" You clenched your niqaab, looking at the veil in your lap. "I'll tell you, but... you cant tell anyone."

Ibrahim stared at you before nodding, sitting back down.

"There may have been a rumour... the cocncubines- they think that the bracelet, a gift from the sultan means that I am... special." You mumbled the last word.

"Special how?"

"They think... that the sultan wants me to be his... daughter-in-law. Actually, they think that I am wooing the sehzades- Mustafa and Mehmed."

"And are you?" He asks immeadiately.

"Of course not!"

"Why not? Anyone would love to marry a prince."

You scoffed. "I would never want to be a part of this family, not even as a teacher."

He raised a brow. "Hate the Ottomans?" You shake your head. "No. But I wouldn't want to be a part of it." You clicked your tongue. "Everyone in this palace is a slave. The concubines, the servants, the wives, the kids, you and me too. The wives of the sultan, they have all the luxuries one could imagine... except for the loyalty of their husband. Not to mention, they have to live in constant fear of being replaced and be in paranoia forever because everyone who is not family, is a threat to her. The kids? If you're born a boy, sure- you are immediately given a superior status, but with such power and princely status also comes with its own drawbacks. The boy will have to always be compete with his brothers, not because he wants to be the next sultan, but for survival."

In Ottoman empire, there was a common practice of fratricide- a tradition where once the next sultan is chosen, the new sultan is allowed LEGALLY to kill his brothers, stepbrothers, nephews and even female relatives (sisters included) as well, so as to get rid of any future competition or betrayal by his own family. In a nutshell, it was done to prevent civil wars.

"If you're born as a girl, then you may have a better chance of survival than your brothers, but that's still not guaranteed. Not to mention, you are raised to be married off to someone that will strengthen the royal family. Not to someone you love." Ibrahim watched you as you continued. "Its not better to be a servant either. Always being threatened, questioned about your loyalty, having to take the fall for the higher ups. The eunuchs, who think they are all high and mighty and control the court, you and I both know that their job to "protect the women of the harem" wasnt even their choice. To be forcefully castrated as children, forcefully ripped from their families, forced to serve the royals... they dont have a choice. I dont have to tell you how degrading it is to be a concubine."

"And me? How am I a slave?" Ibrahim asked.

You smiled sadly. "You know very well, and youre just trying to see how much I know. Your past is not a well kept secret, pasha." You kept quiet, and Ibrahim realised you already knew about his life.

Ibrahim, born as Orthodox Christian, was enslaved during his childhood. He and Suleiman became close friends in their youth, or perhaps forced to convert to Islam and then raised to befriend Suleiman. Suleiman appointed Ibrahim as grand vizier when he took the throne.

"How do you know?" Ibrahim's gaze was sharp. "I know a lot of things, pasha. But dont worry, I have no ill intent. If anything, I want to be as far from this life as possible. Perhaps... you could help me with that?"

He raised a brow. "I dont think that is an option for you right now." At your frown, he explained. "The safest place for a woman like you is here."

"Did you just forget that my face was almost burned off moments ago?"

He chuckled, shaking his hand. "Of course not. But you need to understand that you cannot just up and go without a word, especially after the sultan just gave you a handmade gift, and whether or not it signifies that he's considered you for one of his sons, it does mean that he considers you important. His majesty will not just accept your leave for no reason." Ibrahim leaned forward, clasping his hands. "As for your safety, you can leave that to me. I will make sure no harm befalls you again. I promise."

"But what about the sehzade? The rumours?"

He hummed thoughtfully. "If you're so concerned about that matter, then you should just avoid the princes as much as you can. Keep your niqaab on, continue your lessons with the princess and avoid interacting with people as much as you can."

Well, its not a bad suggestion. If you make yourself scarce and draw less attention to yourself, you can slip out of the palace and leave unnoticed.

"Oh, pasha?" You called him as he stood up to leave. "Can I request you not to tell about this incident to anyone?" You pointed to bruises on your face.

He grinned and nodded. "Of course. But it is not me you should be worried about talking." At your confused face, he chuckled.

"Baris Agha still hasnt returned."

-

Mihirmah and Mehmed were in your room just a few moments after Ibrahim pasha had fetched the bandages from below and treated your wounds, further confirming that Baris was spreading the news about your attack all over the palace.

"Y/n! Who did this to you?" Mihirmah traced the bruises gently as she sat beside you on the bed, while Mehmed sat in front of you, on the seat previously occupied by Ibrahim pasha- just closer this time.

"I dont know." You lied, pulling yourself away from Mihirmah's concerned touches. Oh you're still mad at her.

Your evasiveness didnt go unnoticed by her, as she dropped her hand and her mouth settled into a thin grim line.

"Why did someone attack you? What happened?" Mehmed asked, cutting the tension.

You shrugged. "I dont know." You fiddled with the niqaab in your lap. There's a big bandage on your cheeks, so while you couldnt exactly wear your veil again, you suppose in a way your face was somewhat covered?

"Probably mistook me for someone else. Or just a misunderstanding." You tried to brush this off.

"Still, it shouldnt warrant such a reaction. We should investigate-" Mehmed started but you shook your head.

"Ibrahim pasha is already looking into the matter. He'll take care of it-"

"I am the sehzade. I will look into this personally." Mehmed stated before leaving the room before anyone could stop him. Ah, to be the knight in shinning armour for a distressed damsel.

You and Mihirmah sat alone now. The air in the room was thick, the silence thicker. Mihirmah glanced at your nonchalant face, your eyes fixated on the ground, not caring how uncomfortable the silence was making the princess.

It was clear she had to break the ice.

"Y/n." She called. "Yes, sultana?" You answered, but your eyes still remained on the ground.

Sultana. Not Mihirmah, like she'd allowed you to call her, but sultana.

She pursed her lips. "I..." She paused. What is she supposed to say? Sorry? The word is as foreign to her as it is to any royal.

"I dont like the things you said this morning." She finally stated. "You shouldnt have said those things."

You resisted the urge to scoff. Is she really trying to pin this on you and make you apologise? Entitled brat-

"You're right, sultana. I was out of line. I suggest we should just stick to our lessons and avoid talking about anything else. I'll be careful not to bring up any other topic." You stated monotonously.

Mihirmah frowned. Why are you saying this? Why are you being so difficult?

"Stop it." She warned. You nodded. "As you wish, sultana. I'll arrange another Quran teacher for you." Your words only enraged her further.

"I said- stop it." She ordered but you're hell bent on making her apologise- a dream, but still. You clicked your tongue. "I suppose I'll hand in my resignation to the sultan and explain to His Majesty that it was my fault for being a useless servant who is just not capable- ow!" You finally looked at her in disbelief.

She pinched you. Mihirmah pinched your arm. Hard.

And she had the gall to glare at you, with some anger and remorse in her eyes.

"What did you do that for?" You spat, hissing as you rubbed the area she'd assaulted. There was going to be a bruise, for sure.

Her frown deepened. "You- I told you to stop, didn't I?!" You watched her trying to contain her rage, her body shaking as she tried not to wrangle you by the neck. "I- I dont want you to leave."

"But sultana-" "Mihirmah. You call me Mihirmah." She emphasised.

You bit the inside of your cheek to suppress your smile. "I am just a dispensable servant-" You jumped back when she went to pinch you again.

"Will you stop doing that?!" Your arm still hurt from her first attack. Mihirmah's nostrils flared. "Will you stop acting like a brat?!"

Your throat made a sound of disbelief. "I am acting like a brat?! Have you looked in the mirror recently?"

"Yes and I look very beautiful! Unlike your busted face!"

"Oh so you just get to insult me?" "I am not insulting you! I am DESCRIBING YOU!" She screamed as you glared at her. Mihirmah took a few deep breaths to calm down. "I am not calling you ugly, I was just referring to the bruises on your face. How did you manage to get beat up so badly? Did you not learn anything from my sparring lessons?"

"Sparring lessons? You mean the times where you would flip me on my back or throw me against the wall?" She glared at your accusation. "How is it my fault that you dont fight back?"

Mihirmah's gaze flicked the arm you were holding, the one she'd pinched. "Does it still hurt?" Her voice was much softer this time.

"Would you like me to pinch you back to demonstrate how much it hurt?" You spat back and she scoffed. "I didnt pinch you that hard. You're just sensitive." "Sure, you must only have meaty man fingers." You grumbled as she gasped and smacked your bruised arm, making you hiss.

The two of you glared at each other before Mihirmah wrapped her arms around you and looked up at you with a small pout.

"This doesnt work on me." You muttered, making her grip tighten around you.

"You know you're not a servant." Mihirmah whispered, looking up at you with puppy eyes, but only you knew the real Ronda Rousey in her.

"You're my friend, Y/n. Or the closest thing I have to a sister." "If you were planning on beating up your sister, I'm glad your parents didnt have one."

"Shut up, you're ruining the moment." Mihirmah scolded you. "I dont want you to go. I dont want you to be hurt, either. So just- I'm willing to let things go back to the way they were before this morning, if you are."

You stared down at her. You knew you were never going to get a real apology, Mihirmah was too prideful. You couldnt make her feel ashamed for her actions, or hold her responsible. So, you'll have to make do with this.

"Fine." She broke into a grin and squeezed her arms around you tightly before letting go.

"Now, tell me! Who were these girls who attacked you? I'll skin them with my daggers!" Ignoring her sociopathic tendencies, you shrugged. "I dont know, Mihirmah. I dont know who they were- I'm still new to the palace."

She hummed before her face lit up in realisation. "Wait! Baris Agha did say something about concubines. I'll ask Mehmed too when he returns with more information from Ibrahim pasha!"

-

While you are trying your best to hide the incident about your attack, unbeknownst to you, the news has spread like wildfire in the palace. A maid saw Mehmed entering Ibrahim pasha's office, and when she reported it to her friend, she then told her about how she overheard the eunuchs talking about a fight breaking out between the concubines and someone else, and then someone added that they saw Ibrahim pasha, Mehmed and Mihirmah in your room, so you were involved too. It wasnt long before this news reached Hurrem and Mahidevran, only this time it was more dramatised.

"The concubines tried to kill Hatun Y/n! It was only by pure luck that sehzade Mehmed saved her! And now her wounds are being tended to by Mihirmah sultana while sehzade Mehmed and Ibrahim pasha are punishing the concubines!" Gul, the chamber maid, told Mahidevran.

Mahidevran narrowed her eyes. "Why did they save her? She's just a teacher." The queen didnt understand why the royal children were going through such lengths to get justice for you. Fights in the harem break out all the time.

Gul fumbled with her thumbs, avoiding eye contact with her queen. Mahidevran's frown deepened. "What is it, Gul?"

"I- sultana- I just heard some rumors, its probably not even true-" "Out with it!" Mahidevran snapped.

Gul licked her lips as she spoke. "Um- I overheard that sehzade Mehmed has been... spending a lot of time with Hatun Y/n. Especially after the dinner where Mihirmah sultana recited-"

Mehmed... spending time with you? Why? If he wanted to sleep with you, he could have any girl from the harem. So why you? Why you, a Quran teacher, a conservative girl who covered herself from head to toe? Surely, Mehmed hadnt been bewitched by your physical appearance- not that you had any, in her opinion. And then Suleiman seemed to like you to, so for Mehmed to fancy you would be because-

Mahidevran's eyes widened at the sudden realisation.

"Get me Mustafa. Now!"

-

"Hatun Y/n was attacked by the concubines! Ibrahim pasha saved her and carried her unconscious form to her room!" A maid reported to Hurrem.

"Why was she attacked?" Hurrem asked, bored.

The maid hesitated to answer. "I am not sure, sultana, but the word is that the concubines were jealous of the attention Hatun Y/n was getting from sehzade Mustafa."

Mustafa? No. What possible business could you have with Mustafa? From the past week's events, Hurrem was told that you'd spend most of your time with her daughter, and only moments with Mehmed when he visited his sister.

"Mustafa isnt interested in Y/n." Hurrem stated, more to herself than to refute the maid's claims.

The girl nodded. "I'm only telling you what I heard, sultana. And... I also saw sehzade Mustafa leaving Mahidevran sultana's chambers to visit Hatun Y/n earlier today, just moments before I came here!"

Hurrem halted as she tried to make sense of the information. Mustafa was out all day because of the hunt, he wasnt supposed to return before dinner. Which means, he was fetched, likely by Mahidevran. Who probably informed him about your attack and now he went to check on you.

But why? Even at the dinner the other day, Hurrem didnt detect any sort of affection from Mustafa for you, or you from him. You both barely glanced at each other.

Maybe he's just checking in on you. That's all it is to it.

"How badly was Y/n injured?" Hurrem inquired.

"I didnt get a chance to see her yet, she's been with Mihirmah sultana since the event, but I heard that her unconscious body had to be carried by Ibrahim pasha himself! And- and that he even bandaged her up-"

"Ibrahim pasha?" Hurrem whispered to herself. What business did he have with you? He could've easily had a servant tend to your wounds, so why did he personally do it himself?

Ibrahim. Mustafa. Mahidevran. What are they upto? Hurrem knows Ibrahim doesnt like her, that he favours Mahidevran and Mustafa over her, that he wants Mustafa to be the next sultan-

Hurrem's heart sinks as she pieces it together.

"Get me Mehmed. Now!"

-

Suleiman was having dinner with his family. Both of his families- Mahidevran and Mustafa joined him tonight as well. He was happy to have them together, all well and healthy.

Except... something was off.

Suleiman's gut could sense it. The children were making small talk, his wives as well, but he could tell. There was some sort of tension.

It was Mihirmah that made him finally speak up.

"Mihirmah." He called out the girl who was playing with her food. "You've barely eaten. What's wrong?"

The room immediately fell dead silent, the attention now focusing on Mihirmah.

She smiled nervously, taking a small bite. "I'm fine, baba."

But Suleiman could see that her usual bubbling aura was somewhat depressing. "Mihirmah." He called her name more sternly, and this time, her smile faltered as she finally spilled.

"I'm just worried for Y/n."

Suleiman frowned. And when he looked at everyone else, it was clear that they knew something he wasn't aware of.

"What happened?"

-

Baris Agha was having fun riling you up. "So, you're telling me that both sehzade Mustafa and Mehmed, the two crown princes racing to be the next sultan, are visited you?" He snickered as you shot him a glare. "Can I just suggest you to remove the niqaab for the wedding-"

"Baris! Shut up!" You raged at him. "Dont think I dont know you were the one spreading the lies about-" "Lies? About what? About you being attacked? By concubines who are jealous of your- I dont know, I'm sorry what it is that these men seem to be enraptured with-"

There are hurried, intense knocks on the door. Baris opens the door as a servant stumbles in, out of breath.

"Hatun Y/n! Sultan Suleiman has summoned you! Now!" His tone signified that you're not to waste time.

"Why did he call for me?" You whisper to Baris as the two of you rush down the hallways.

"Perhaps he wants to formally ask you to marry one of his sons-" "Baris!" He grinned. "What? I have a sixth sense-" "YOU HAVE NO SENSE!" You yelled. "Have more sense than you." Baris grumbled.

"Why are you even following me? Dont you have a job?" You wanted him to stop vexing you.

He snorted. "And what? Miss out on all the fun? Besides, you know as the future sultana, you will need me-"

"I swear, as soon as I'm finished meeting the sultan, I am going to throw you off the roof."

The two of you turned the corner leading to the royal dining hall, and you bumped face first into Ibrahim pasha's back, the man catching you by the arms before you fell on your ass.

"P-pasha? What are you doing here?" You asked, backing up once you got your footing.

"Sultan sent for me. What are you doing here?" Ibrahim asked, equally confused.

"He summoned me as well. What do you think its about?" You watched the cogwheels in his mind turn and the realisation dawn on him.

"The attack earlier." He exhaled, closing his eyes as he tried to figure out his next steps. "We cant- you cant tell him the truth!"

"You want me to lie to the sultan?" He rose his brows. "Please, Ibrahim! I- I told Mihirmah and Mehmed and then Mustafa that I didnt know who the attackers were, or why they attacked me! If you tell them the truth-"

"Y/n." He grabbed your shoulders, staring into your worried eyes. "I promised to protect you, didnt I? I intend on keeping my promises."

You both entered the dining room together, bowing to the royal family sitting there.

"Y/n." You looked up at the sultan. "Is it true? Were you attacked?"

You were quiet for a few moments, resisting the urge to glance at Ibrahim to figure what to say, before nodding hesitantly.

"Y-yes, sultan." You trailed your eyes back to the ground. These people, they were warriors. They didnt have any technology back then, and they had to rely on body language to read people.

And you didnt want to risk him catching you in a lie.

"Are you alright?" Suleiman's voice was much softer now. "Did you go to the infirmary?"

"I'm well now, sultan. Thank you for asking." You meekly answered. "I was saved in time, thanks to Ibrahim pasha."

Mahidevran's eyes narrowed at you. Ibrahim saved you? Of course, you'd lie about that, so that no one would suspect you and Mehmed getting close. She thought to herself.

"Ah, Ibrahim pasha." Suleiman's voice turned serious. "You were the one who saved Y/n?"

"Yes, sultan." Ibrahim confirmed.

"And you have the attackers in custody?"

"Yes, sultan."

Suleiman slammed his fist on the table, rattling everyone. "Then why the hell wasnt I informed of it?!" Ibrahim kept his head down as the sultan continued to rage. "Why does everyone seem to be aware of this matter, except me?! Answer me, Ibrahim!"

Hurrem couldnt help the smile that curled on her lips. She was glad to see Ibrahim getting in trouble, perhaps Suleiman will finally get rid of him for once and for all-

"It's my fault, your majesty!" You announced suddenly, and everyone's focus shifted to you. "I- I was- I was shaken up from the attack and I- I made the pasha stay with me. I was too scared- I didnt think I was safe- so Ibrahim pasha left to make arrangements to assure me I was safe! He was busy because of me. I'm sorry! If- if anyone should be punished, it should be me!"

You held your hands together tightly to stop them from trembling. The room fell silent at your explanation, with you and Ibrahim holding your breaths.

"Is this true, Ibrahim?" Suleiman broke the silence.

"Yes, my sultan." Ibrahim answered. "After I had saved Hatun Y/n, I wanted to assure her of her safety, so I was busy interrogating the concubines who attacked her. After they confessed, I wanted to check if anyone else in the harem had any ill intentions for Hatun Y/n, so I was engaged in checking everyone who could be a possible threat. I was on my way to inform you, but you summoned me before I could."

"Concubines? Why did they attack Y/n?" Suleiman asked, wanting to know the result of his interrogation.

Ibrahim answered without missing a beat. "They were jealous of Hatun Y/n's bracelet." You looked at him but the pasha kept his eyes ahead at the sultan. "From what I gathered, Hatun Y/n refused to give up His Majesty's handmade gift, and when she put up a fight to defend your present, she was subjected to a harsh beating and had her face almost burned."

Suleiman's eyes widened. "Burned? Because of a bracelet?"

"It was what the bracelet represented, my sultan." Ibrahim's statement made your heart sink. He better not tell him about the "daughter-in-law" theory.

"The concubines think that you... favour Y/n over them." Ibrahim's words set fire to your cheeks and you had to bite your lip to suppress the gasp you almost let out.

Ibrahim decided to change the "daughter-in-law" theory to "3rd wife/bedwarmer theory".

"What rubbish?!" Suleiman slammed his fist on the table again, and perhaps everyone in the room was silently grateful for his rage and disbelief, as it disapproved the theory and quelled any future rumours. "I only see Y/n as my daughter, nothing else! How dare they slander me like that?! How dare they hurt someone I care about?! Ibrahim, execute those wretched concubines!"

Your eyes widened at the order. Preventing their death sentence was the only reason you lied and kept this charade up. You cant risk more people dying and history changing forever because of you!

"Y-your majesty!" You fell to your knees, your voice wet. "I- I beg you- I beg you on the behalf of the concubines, please- have mercy!"

Everyone watched in surprise as you cried for mercy for... your attackers?

"You... want me to forgive them? Despite what they did to you?" Suleiman asked, watching in disbelief at your tears wetting your niqaab.

"It- it was wrong- but please, they're just- they're just young girls. They made a mistake, they shouldnt pay with their lives!" You tried to come up with better reasoning. Aha!

"Sultan, I- we are Muslims. You are a role model for Muslims all over the world right now- but you have a role model as well- someone you havent met or seen, but you follow his advices and footsteps every day. Its Prophet Muhammad (PBUH)- and- and he advices us to be forgiving and merciful." Ibrahim watched you try to persuade the king.

"On the Day of Judgement, when we beg and grovel Allah for forgiveness, would He not forgive us happily if we show mercy to His creatures? If we forgive His mankind?" You pleaded and Suleiman was touched by your words, so-much-so that he walked over to you and pulled you by your shoulders before pressing a kiss to your veiled forehead.

"You're too kind, Y/n." He whispered, before nodding at Ibrahim. "Dont kill the concubines. But find a fitting punishment for them, Ibrahim." The pasha bowed his head obediently.

"And find Y/n her personal chambers in the royal wing." Suleiman stated, making everyone surprised.

No. Room in the royal wing only meant more contact with the royals themselves. This was the last thing you needed-

"Your majesty-" He held up a hand. "Dont protest, Y/n. You were hurt because of my present and while I appreciate that you defended it, I do not wish to see you hurt. Ibrahim, find her a room and shift her there by tonight. And assign a few guards and servants to Y/n as well. I dont want her to feel unsafe again." Suleiman looked at Ibrahim with a serious expression. "I trust her in your hands, Ibrahim."

"Of course, your majesty." Ibrahim nodded.

Suleiman looked back at you, a gentle smile on his face. "I would like you to join us for dinners now." He gently pushed your back and Mahidevran immediately scooted a bit closer to Suleiman's seat and patted the space beside her... and next to Mustafa.

Hurrem glared at the blatant display of intentions- Mahidevran showed her "generosity and humbleness" by letting you sit next to her to please Suleiman, and also make you sit next to her son to get close with.

At this moment, both queens are under the impression that Suleiman wants you to be his future daughter-in-law, so both women think that the other is making her son court you because the first one to marry you will produce a heir, further legitimising the prince's claim to the throne and becoming the next sultan, especially since Suleiman views you to be the perfect, pious woman who would be the perfect mother for his grandkids.

The only difference is- Mahidevran wants you to be Mustafa's spouse, not because she thinks you're a good match for her perfect son, but because she wants to speed up Mustafa's claim to the throne. She knows Suleiman prefers Hurrem over her (Hurrem's five kids are proof of that), and since she has no child other than Mustafa, Mahidevran is at disadvantage and she needs every advantage she can get, no matter how savoury it is- like you.

Hurrem on the other hand, does not want you as her Mehmed's spouse, because you're not what she had in mind for her precious son. She wants someone soft, demure, submissive, beautiful and more importantly- someone she can control. But she also knows what game Mahidevran is playing, and since Hurrem doesnt want Mustafa trying to steal the throne from Mehmed, Hurrem will have to just- get rid of you.

-

"So... the sultan just said that outloud?" Baris ate a date from the fancy table in your brand new chambers. "He just announced that you're his "daughter" to everyone?" He heard you groan a yes from your place on the bed- face buried in the pillows.

"And Mahidevran sultana made you sit between her and sehzade Mustafa?" He heard you groan another "yes".

Baris plopped down next to you. "So you're marrying Mustafa. Huh, didnt bet on that-"

"You bet on this?" You asked miserably, finally pulling your head up. "Of course, need to make money. Unlike you, not everyone has the oppurtunity to marry into royalty-"

You smack a pillow right across his face. "If I hear you talk about marriage again, I will strangle you."

Baris rolled his eyes, fixing his hair that you'd messed up. "I dont know why you're so upset. Did you want to sit next to Mehmed instead? If so, maybe I can still win the bet-"

"I dont want either of them!" You stated frustratedly, sitting up. "Do you not get it- I dont want to be a part of royalty! They're- they're all mad! My life would be in constant threat- from jealous concubines, possessive mother-in-laws, throne hungry princes. I dont want that!"

"Is it because you want Ibrahim pasha?"

You blinked at him. What? "What?"

Baris rubbed his chin. "Oh come on, I saw the way you two looked at each other before you entered the dining room- how the pasha promised to protect you, even from the sultan's wrath."

"Are you like- fishing for anything? For fun?" You shake your head at him.

Baris gave you a look. "Really? What about you going in and lying to protect him? He didnt even say anything before you took the chance to save him."

"I saved him because it was the right thing to do! Not because I love him!" You exclaimed, throwing your hand in the air. "If this is how you think, please- PLEASE resist the urge to ever help me! I dont want a proposal coming from you just because you saved me from choking."

Baris glared at you. "First of all- I'm never going to be as blind as the sehzade when it comes to love. Secondly, you'd be lucky to have me as a husband. At least your offspring will have a chance at looking somewhat normal-" You lunged at him and put him in a chokehold while Baris grabbed at your hijaab covered head to pull you off.

Your fighting match is brought to a halt as someone knocks on the door.

Mustafa stands outside your door, surprised to see Baris looking slightly disheveled when he opened your door.

"Baris? What are you doing here?" Mustafa asked, watching the eunuch fix his collar.

"Ah sehzade! Oh I was just helping Hatun Y/n adjust to her room. Shift her things in here." Baris faked a smile.

Mustafa nodded before lowering his voice. "Is she awake?"

"Yes yes- please come in." Mustafa walked inside just as you appeared out of the wooden divider screen, adjusting your niqaab.

"Sehzade." You gave him a courtesy. "How may I help you?"

Mustafa gave you a gentle smile, his moustache quirking up handsomely. "I would like to ask you to spend the day with me tomorrow."

You froze, and you didnt dare look at Baris who you knew was sporting a smug look because you didnt want to throw your shoe at his face in front of the prince.

"I- I think I am busy with Mihrimah sultana tomorrow-"

"No, I asked her. She said she's happy to skip her lessons for tomorrow." Mustafa cut your excuse. "I'll come by after breakfast. Good night, Y/n."

-

Even though Mustafa said he'll see you after breakfast, which for royals was just an hour before noon, you were woken up by Baris at the ass crack of dawn.

"Baris! What the hell?" You glared at him when he yanked the covers off you. Baris grinned at you. "As much as I'd like to believe in beauty sleep, its so not helping in your case. Come on, you need a bath and a lot of other stuff!"

He'd brought fine silk gowns and matching niqaabs (which you insisted on wearing despite Baris voicing his displeasure).

Currently, one of the maids had just finished doing your eye makeup- which in this case was kohl, and some dried berries crushed to a fine powder to make a rouge sort of shade.

"Since your eyes may be the only thing the prince sees, we need to make them bewitching!" Baris had commented before spraying you down with a lot of perfume.

"That's enough!" You push the bottle away as you coughed at the musky, earthy perfume. "Isnt that for men?" You ask coughing.

Baris's grin only widened. "Its sehzade Mustafa's favourite attar! I had to bribe his chamber servant to tell me this. And you my darling-" He sprayed you again. "-need to smell like him so that he thinks you two are a perfect fit!"

"That is literally the stupidest thing I've heard-" your insult is cut short as your vision is blinded by Baris flipping up your veil to reveal your lower half of the face and him applying some crushed berries juice to your lips.

"Just in case you have a change of morals and want to kiss the prince." He jumped back when you tried to slap him.

Soon, Mustafa came to fetch you. You two were currently walking through the royal gardens, with you giving curt answers so that he would lose interest in you and leave you alone.

Your dismissal didnt go unnoticed by him. "What do you like to do for fun?"

"Read." You answer looking at the well cut hedges. "Have you been to the royal library?" He looks down at you, finding you gazing at the flowers. "Yes. I've already read all of the books there." In college, of course.

"All of them?" His disbelief makes you look at him. Finally. Mustafa thinks.

"Of course." You answer, offended.

"Even the royal ancestry book?" Mustafa raises a brow at you.

"Yes." Your brows furrow. "Ask me anything."

He shakes his head and chuckles. "I doubt you know more about my ancestors than me."

When he looked back at you, you were still looking at him expectantly.

"Ask me."

Mustafa's curiosity got the best of him at your determination.

"This is- this is incredible." Mustafa commented, his eyes wide as he looked at the ancestry book from where he basically quizzed you. He didnt know he was talking to a historian who had pulled all nighters for pretty much every major empire for finals.

"How did you learn all of this?" He asks you, still double checking your answers.

"Oh... I have good memory." You mutter, making him shake his head at you with an amusing smile.

"Of course, I should've figured. You're a hafidha, you're passionate for learning." And passionate for making money in trivias.

Mustafa closes the book. "So, since you've read every book in here, I suppose you must be bored?" He doesnt wait for an answer when an idea pops in his mind. "Come on, lets go."

You follow him, trying to keep up with his fast pace. "Go where?"

"To get you new books." He looks over his shoulder and gives you charming grin.

Your steps falter. New books? "We're leaving the palace?" He hums.

You havent left the palace since you came here, mostly because you havent been able to leave.

You match his pace. "Lets go!" And Mustafa finally sees you excited for the first time today.

With a few Janissaries and some disguise, you all head out into Istanbul. You're looking around the city like a kid in a candy store, only you're looking for a something or someone to help you fix your time machine.

The market comes into view along with the sound of hawkers trying to attract customers. Of course, the only shopkeeper who wasnt yelling was the blacksmith, allowing his hammer to garner the attention of serious clients.

He could be of use. If you're able to find some tools, maybe even get some metal films, you could try to spark a charge and trigger the time machine to work.

You start to take a few steps towards him when Mustafa grabs your shoulder and pulls you back to him. "Where are you going? Stay close to me. I dont want to lose you." He tells you, almost in a chiding tone, but his hands carefully pulling your robes around you said otherwise.

He lead you towards a bookshop. Mustafa nodded at you to go ahead, explore and get any book you want. He'll buy it.

While you were busy browsing, Mustafa couldnt help but steal glances at you. He didnt understand why he was doing this- he couldnt really see your face, or anything except for your eyes.

Your eyes, they were pretty but its not their beauty that really captivates him. Its the swirl of emotions in them. The mystery in them, like there's... more to you. Like you're hiding something.

Perhaps it was your mannerisms. Your dismissive nature, your tendency to not be impressed easily by their eccentricities or status, almost as if you've lived with royalty before.

Maybe he likes how different you treat him him. How you dont bend over backwards to please his family, or try to pursue him or his brothers. In fact, you almost seem to be avoiding them altogether.

You intrigue him. Badly. Amusingly. Adorably.

-

"I dont understand! Where could she have gone?" Mihirmah whined to her brother at lunch. Mehmed only raised a brow. "Who? Y/n? She might be in her room recovering from yesterday's events. She was pretty shaken up-"

"I already checked! She's not there!" Mihirmah sighed before laying her head in his lap, and he began patting her hair. "She went out with Mustafa but she still hasnt returned! Its lunch time and I planned on teaching her sword fight! For self defense, you know- so that she doesnt get beat up like last time."

Mehmed's hand stopped patting. "She's with Mustafa?"

She nodded. "Since morning!"

"Huh." Mihirmah sat up, looking at her brother puzzled.

"What? What is it?" She asked him.

"Nothing." He faked a smile, but Mihirmah knew him like the back of her hand. "Mehmed. Tell me."

"I just... dont understand why Mustafa is spending time with her." He stated, standing up to walk to the balcony. "She's your teacher. What business does Mustafa have with her?"

Mihirmah watched her brother stiffen suddenly, watched the way his jaw ticked as he looked down the balcony. She stood up and joined him, following his gaze to see what he was looking at.

Its you. And Mustafa. Finally returning to the palace, servants holding piles of books following behind you two. What's even more bizarre is to see Mustafa smiling down at you while you giggled, covering your mouth despite the niqaab, making you look even more bashful.

Even Mihirmah hadnt ever seen you so joyful, and yet here you are- laughing so gleefully with her eldest brother. Step brother.

It rubbed her off the wrong way.

"You want her?" She asked him, her voice so hollow that it made Mehmed look at her.

"What?"

Mihirmah looked at him, her eyes stern. "Do. You. Want. Her?"

Unwavering determination. Thats what he saw in his sister's face.

Say the word, and it'll be done.

Mehmed stared at her.

"Yes."

-

"I hope you had a good time." Mustafa asked you as he walked you to your chambers. You nodded. "I did. Thank you, sehzade." Despite your best attempts at dismissing him, Mustafa was very persistent at breaking down your walls. And sure, part of you giggled and pretended to be flustered at his words, you mainly acted cordial so that he may take you out of the palace more often. He was your only way out at the moment.

You both stopped outside your door, the servants walking past you to place your books inside. Mustafa looked satisfied.

"If you ever need to go outside again, feel free to come to me, Y/n." He offered, before taking out a small box from his pocket and handing it to you.

Your heart dropped. A ring? Now? This fast? No no no no no-

You opened the box and you felt life returning back to you. It was a gold broach adorned with rubies and a diamond in the center, encaged in an intricate heart pattern.

"I may not share my father's gift of handcrafting jewels, but I do happen to be skilled at acquiring precious jewels on my conquests." Mustafa informed you as he took the broach from the box and looked at you for permission before pinning it to your hijab, just below your collar bone.

You were too stunned to stop him or even turn down the gift, though Mustafa took your silence as awe.

He adjusted the broach.

"Perfect." He whispered, looking into your eyes.

You watched him leave with a grin, finally able to breathe when he was out of sight.

With a sigh, you enter your chambers, half expecting Baris to be sprawled over your bed waiting to tease you for details on your outing.

What you werent expecting was... her.

"Did you have fun?" The sultana asked, her eyes sharp. "I've been waiting for you, Y/n. Lets have a chat, hm?"

Shit.

-

"You're abnormal." Your hands stop adjusting your hijab as you glare at him through the mirror.

"What?"

Baris tilted his head. "You're abnormal." He repeated.

You turn around from the vanity and glare at him. "Is this another way of calling me ugly?"

"Tch. No, I have words for that." He shook his head. "I meant, you've been acting weird since yesterday, after you returned from your secret outing with sehzade Mustafa."

"You're imagining things." You mumble, turning back to the vanity mirror and picking up the broach Mustafa gave you.

Baris scoffed. "I am not. I may have been busy with the younger royal kids yesterday, but I did manage to catch a glimpse of you giggling and blushing when you returned with the prince." He rubbed his chin thoughtfully. "So that means, the day went good. Something happened on the way to your chambers." He narrowed his eyes at you. "Did you kiss him?"

You whipped your head. "Baris!" He palmed his face. "Sorry, I forgot you're the religious prude. Did he kiss you?"

"No, Baris! No one kissed anyone." You began pinning the broach to your hijab, the same area where Mustafa had placed it yesterday. But you werent able to, too frustrated at the interrogation.

Baris grabbed the broach from you and pinned it in place. "So, you two didnt kiss, bought you enough books to make a you a scholar, and gifted you this broach, and you're disturbed because...?"

You frowned. "I am not disturbed. You're just reading too much into this."

"Fine, dont tell me. I'll find out on my own." You walked past him to teach your Quran lesson.

As much as you'd like to think that you're sly, Baris is right. Something did happen. After you'd returned to your room, you were met there by Mahidevran sultana.

You were reasonably scared because you thought that she's here to torture you or even kill you because you've been "seducing Mustafa" or whatever rumour Baris has spread about you.

But you were surprised when she told you that she wants you and Mustafa together, in marriage. As soon as possible. For the next half hour, Mahidevran basically told you all about the likes and dislikes of her son so that you would accustom yourself to them and then emphasised how supportive she would be of you to be her daughter-in-law. She even encouraged you to... sleep with him, she didnt say it directly but you got the meaning behind her words.

At the end of her lecture, she warned you to not spend time with Hurrem or any of her offsprings, besides Mihirmah because you are her teacher and even then told you to keep your interaction strictly formal and minimum.

When she was about to leave, she spotted the broach on your clavicle and beamed, almost proudly so. When you confirmed that Mustafa gave it to you, and started to take it off to return it to her, she stopped you and told you to wear it everyday. EVERYDAY.

"My son has given you something. You should be honoured. Cherish it." Mahidevran ordered.

The main reason you didnt tell Baris about Mahidevran and her confusing but threatening demands to court Mustafa was because of Baris's blabber mouth that couldnt hold a secret if his life depended on it.

And you have enough on your plate as it is.

You enter Mihirmah's chambers, bowing as you spot her.

"Ah! Welcome! Sit, sit!" Mihirmah pats down the seat next to her and you're slightly suspicious of her energy.

She's upto something.

You sit down beside her, opening the Quran. "I think we should start with-" She closed the book in your hands.

"In a minute. Lets talk first, hm?" She smiled at you. "How was your day off yesterday? Well rested?"

Your shoulders sag slightly. Of course, she wants to know about your day out with Mustafa. Baris probably blabbered something to spark her curiosity like this.

"Yes. A much needed break. Quite refreshing." You tell her, purposely keeping away from the details, lest she gets the wrong idea again and accuses you of whoring around your "ugly self" to her brother.

"Mmhm. Had fun with Mustafa?" Her sharp tone made you look at her.

Is she implying something?

"The prince was kind enough to get me some books." You told her cautiously, trying to ease the tension. "I think you'd like some of them-"

"Mustafa sleeps around." You blinked at her. What were you supposed to do with this unsolicited information.

"Okay...?"

She shrugged, picking up her cup of tea. "I'm just saying- he's been with a lot of women. The other day I was reading a verse from Quran where it mentioned adultery. Then I realised- thats what Mustafa is. An adulterer."

"You read Quran without me making you-"

"Mustafa is an adulterer, Y/n. Allah will not forgive him. He's doomed for hell."

"Actually, if he repents sincerely-"

"He's doomed, Y/n. Doomed." She reiterated.

"By that logic, so are most of your ancestors. I think most men, kings and princes commit adultery-"

"Mehmed doesnt." She stared at you. "He's never slept with anyone. He's a good Muslim man. Allah will be pleased with him."

What is going on here? "Um... okay. That's great news for sehzade Mehmed."

"And for you." Mihirmah announced. "You are the lucky one."

"What?"

She let out a sigh of frustration, as if she has to state the obvious. "Mehmed likes you- no, he loves you-" "Loves me?" "Shh! I'm still talking. You have caught his eye for some reason, so you should end whatever it is that you have with Mustafa and be loyal to my brother."

The room was silent, the two of you staring at each other- you, in confusion. Mihirmah, in determination.

A crow croaked outside.

"First of all, I have nothing going on with sehzade Mustafa. Secondly, Mehmed said he loves me?" You asked while trying not to show resentment.

Mihirmah scoffed. "He doesnt have to say it, I know it."

Your tension deflates to some extent. Okay, so she's just making up stuff. This can be handled.

"Mihirmah, I understand how-" you resist the urge to roll your eyes "-you may think Mehmed may be attracted to me, I am honoured, really. But I can assure you, Mehmed does not love me."

"No, I love you." Your head whips around at the sound of his voice.

Mehmed. He's standing behind you.

"Sehzade-" you begin standing up to bow to him, but he holds up a hand.

"Mihirmah's right. I love you." Mihirmah beamed proudly at standing correct.

Your eyes could only widen in horror as Mehmed sank down to sit right beside you, and with Mihirmah on your other side, you were trapped between the siblings.

"I. Love. You." Mehmed repeated, his hazel eyes staring into yours.

After several moments of silence, a crow croaked again. Mihirmah nudged you to say something.

"Um-" You cleared your throat. "Ugh... thank you."

Mehmed's brows shot up in surprise while Mihirmah broke into a fit of laughter.

"Thank... you?" Mehmed asked, and you would've thought he was mad if it werent for the amused smile on his face.

Mihirmah continued to laugh, and you had to look back at her to make her stop. "I-I'm sorry, Mehmed- this was- this was just too funny. I mean, she has a prince, the next heir of the empire confess her love and all she says is "thank you"?" She said, chuckling as she wiped the tear from her eye.

Mehmed glared at her playfully. "Well, maybe she's just shy around you." Why are they talking about you like you're not right there?

Mihirmah hummed, then nodded. "Perhaps you're right. I'll leave you two lovebirds alone. I have to do something-"

"What? Why? You dont have anything to do." You stopped her from standing up. You dont want to be alone with Mehmed.

"I do!" She narrowed her eyes at you.

"Like what?"

"Like-" her eyes zeroed in on your broach. "-pretty. Mustafa gave it?"

"Yes-" you yelped as she grabbed it and pulled it off you, ripping the niqaab it was pinned with along.

"Mihirmah!" Mehmed yelled at her, his eyes stern. You could only stare at her in disbelief before turning away from Mehmed to hide your bare face now.

"Oops! I'm sorry Y/n! I'll go get you a new niqaab- this one is all torn!" She said without an ounce of remorse before leaving the room.

Mehmed shakes his head as he watched her leave, before turning his attention to you- or well, your back.

"Y/n?" He called out to you softly. "I'm sorry for Mihirmah. She... she doesnt mean you any harm. She's just- she sometimes doesnt realise how hurtful her actions can be when she's trying to help someone."

When you didnt reply, Mehmed grew slightly worried. "Y/n?" He sighed when you didnt reply. An idea popped in his head as he looked around the room before looking down.

You heard the sound of cloth ripping, your heart dropping as you assumed the worst. He wasnt going to-

Your head turned around just as Mehmed's hands encircled around your head, a red cloth blocking your view of him.

"Mehmed?" You whispered, scared. His frozen hands seemed to snap out of it and began encircling round your head, the red cloth in his grip brought closer to your face. Thats when your eyes landed on the bottom of his red shirt (kemis). It was ripped.

Mehmed had torn his shirt to make a niqaab for you.

His eyes were focused on tying the makeshift veil, securing it before they landed on you.

"Y/n?" He called your name gently again, his concern growing at the sight of tears pooling in your eyes. He softly sighed as a his hand reached up to wipe a tear that escaped your eye.

"You're that scared of me?" After a few moments, you sniffled as more tears escaped your eyes and you shook your head. "Then?" When you didnt reply, or couldnt as you continued to cry mutely, he took it as a sign that you were humiliated because of Mihirmah removing your veil.

He took a deep breath and cupped your face gingerly before pressing a tender kiss to your forehead.

"My mind is occupied by you. I think about you all the time. Perhaps...I only think about you, moon." He wiped another tear with his thumb. "I love you, my moon. I fear I... I love you too much. My heart holds so much love for you, I can hardly call it my own anymore." He then kissed your teary eyes one by one.

"I know you... you dont love me yet, but one day, when you find yourself being generous, I want you to be the one holding my heart in your hands. Its yours, moon. Yours."

-

Baris waited with a few guards and servants outside Mihirmah's room, when Mehmed left the room with a satisfied smiled on his face. Baris noted the bottom of his torn shirt but before he could comment on it, Mehmed asked him where Mihirmah was.

"She went to see sehzade Mustafa. Shall I fetch her?" Mehmed waved him off, saying he'll go get her himself, after all- Mihirmah still had to finish her lesson with you.

Mehmed had just turned around the corner when you came out of the room.

"Y/n-" Baris called out to you but you sped past him, and he didnt chase after you when he saw your red eyes.

He'll tease you later, when you're not so sad. For now, he has to report the sight of this to someone.

-

Even if Mihirmah hadnt bumped into Mustafa and proudly showed off the broach he'd gifted you, the news would've still somehow made its way to him by the servants whispers.

"Oh this broach? Its pretty, isnt it?" Mihirmah smirked, showing it off to Mustafa. "Y/n gave it to me."

"She... gave it to you?" His gift. You gave it away?

She nodded. "Mmhm. She said it wasnt that precious to her, so she gave it. She was going to throw it away, but it went well with my dress so I took it."

You were going to discard his gift? Just like that?

"Mihirmah. There you are." Mehmed walked over to her. "Mustafa." He greeted his brother.

"Mehmed." He looked at his shirt. "What happened to your shirt?"

Mehmed grinned. "Nothing." He then looked at Mihirmah. "Come on, Y/n is waiting for you. I talked to her."

Mustafa could only watch the two siblings beam at each other as the taste in his mouth soured.

His broach. Torn shirt. Mehmed "talked" to you.

Mahidevran could feel her blood boil at the complaints Mustafa brought to her. Even if he didnt, the maids she'd hired to spy on you had already reported of everything they'd witnessed. You and Mehmed alone in Mihirmah's room.

Did you not understand a single word she said? Does she need to give you a more stern warning this time?

"Hurrem must've put them upto this." She muttered, before her gaze flickered to her worried son. She placed a hand on his shoulder. "Dont worry, Mustafa. I will fix this. You focus on Y/n, hm? You deserve her, my lion."

So? How was it?

Part 10 is here!

[nervoussagittarius]

to win or not to win

chris sturniolo x reader

summary: chris and his girlfriend do a twitch stream together and compete at who’s the better fortnite player, request

warnings: fluffy, language

it wasn’t unusual for you and chris to get into friendly competitions. most of them ended in a temper tantrum from one of you, but they were innocent nonetheless.

todays topic of discussion was ‘whos the better fortnite player’. although chris had been playing for a significant amount of time longer than you, you were sure you could hold your own. especially, because chris was the one to teach you how to play.

you both we’re confident in your skills, so the only logical way to decide was to take it to twitch and let the viewers watch the showdown.

“okay guys so here’s what’s happening today. y/n and i are having the fortnite championship and you guys are here to witness” chris said as he took the seat next to you. a very serious look was etched on his face

you looked at him with a raised eyebrow and a look that said ‘really?’

“while we wait for mr. dramatic to calm down i’ll tell you why we’re really here. chris thinks he’s better at fortnite then me.” you said. there was a slight pause before both of you broke into laughter and fell into eachother.

you continued as chris placed his head on your shoulder and watched the chat, “i don’t think chris is better a fortnite then me. so we’re gonna play a few rounds and see who has the best outcomes.”

“yeah so basically we’re gonna be playing 3 rounds, and when we finish we’re going to see who had the overall higher placings.” chris explained.

“that’s quite literally what i just said. thank you for repeating me, love”

“that’s quite literally what i just fucking said” chris mimicked as he poked your side to agitate you.

“stop it” you said giggling, trying to slap his hand away from you.

chris had the split screen set up on his pc. it was a tight fit but you guys were going to make it work. this argument needed to be settled.

the first two games went smoothly. trash talk was being thrown and so were elbows. you both didn’t mind playing dirty. lines had been crossed to many times to count, but it was all in fun.

“it all comes down to this, ma. so far we each have a first and second place finish” chris said cracking his knuckles. no matter how hard he tried, he wasn’t intimidating anyone.

the game went smoothly for a while. you were both able to get through with out any scratches. it was down to the last ten when chris noticed you leg start bouncing in anticipation and nervousness.

as much as chris hated to admit it, he didn’t want to see you lose. he loved seeing how excited you got whenever you win a competition between the two of you, and this was a game chris was willing to throw.

chris looked at you, then at the game before him, then back at you. he could see the distress on your face and he hated it.

“dude i don’t even fucking know where these guys are coming from!” you exclaimed as you started firing random shots to try to hit someone.

you guys were now in the final four. chris made his way over to your character and quickly took out one on the guys shooting at you. you were able to get the other one out not long after that.

“oh fuck chris. please don’t shoot. please don’t shoot. please” you repeat over and over as you tried to get the perfect aim on chris’s player. without warning chris pretended to fumble his controller, dropping it to the ground.

“oh shit!”

this gave you the perfect opportunity to kill chris’s character and win the game and the overall competition between the two of you.

“yes!” you yelled as you threw your arms up and jumped out of your chair.

“oh my fuck. no chance. i just fucking won.”

you did a celebratory lap around chris’s room. chris winked at the camera and held his finger up to his lips telling the chat to not spoil the fact that she is let you win. when you made it back to him you held his face in your hands.

he looked up at you as you said, “you we’re good. simply just not good enough.” you leaned down to place a short peck on his lips and held out your hand for him to shake. he instead grabbed your hand pulling you down to sit on his lap.

“you know chris, me winning really just proves how good you are at fortnite because you taught me everything i know”

chris groaned in joking frustration as he nuzzled his head into the crook of you neck. he placed soft kisses around the area as you watched the chat congratulate your win.

chris finally picked his head up, “thank you guys so much for watching me get my ass kicked by my girlfriend i-”

“kinky.” you interrupted.

“okay that’s it” chris stood up, picking you up by your waist at the same time. he walked over to his bed and gently threw you down. swiftly, he ran back over to his desk chair, taking a seat.

“as i was saying, thanks for watching and we’ll see you again soon”

“bye!” you said blowing a kiss to the camera.

an: this one’s cute. i didn’t want it to seem identical to matt’s so i hope y’all enjoy it🤍

[astroboots]

Punch-Out Love

Artwork by @guruan

FIGHT NIGHT

Pairing: Miguel O'Hara x female reader

Summary: You're lucky enough to score ring-side seats at a boxing match on Friday night. Getting the best view in the house of boxing champion: Miguel O'Hara.

Word count: 1,500

Next Chapter

Spiderverse Masterlist | Astroboot’s Masterlist 

You know fuck all about boxing.

About the only thing you know about the sport was from the glimpses you caught watching scratched up old recordings of Muhammed Ali fights on the boxy mini-tv of your old childhood friend's house.

It always seemed barbaric. The practice of watching two human beings beat the shit out of each other for spectator's entertainment. It seems like something that was better left in the Ancient Roman times. Have we all human beings as a society, really not come further some 2,000 years later?

Your bestie used to get mad at you for this. Constantly defending the sport from your criticism, because (according to him) it's not just about smashing each other's faces in. Supposedly, there's an art to the sport. Boxers are taught to respect their opponents and adhere to the principles of good sportsmanship. It takes great mental discipline, dedicated work and years of hard and punishing training to master boxing.

You never saw any of that in the matches he showed you. All you saw were two men needlessly being hurt, sustaining brain damage for rich people's enjoyment.

Then again, he was more than a little bit biased, considering it was his dream to go pro one day. Tall and gangly, with his scrawny antelope legs, thick-rimmed glasses and big-ass braces, he looked like he couldn't punch his way out of a paper bag, much less another person. You never understood how exactly he thought he was going to make it as a boxer.

But you never found it in you to burst his unrealistic bubble when he used to point at the screen excitedly, drawing your attention to Ali's footwork and the artistry in it. 

"It's like he's dancing," he used to say.

Except dancing is done with swelling music in the background. In dancing you often have a partner. It's an embrace. It's gentle and kind.

Boxing... was not that.

So you don't know how you managed to find yourself in the ringside seats of a local boxing match on a Friday evening, staring up at the boxing ring with the glaring ring lights shining into your eyes.

"Aren't these seats amazing?" Jess shouts excitedly over the familiar lyrics of ‘We Will Rock You' being belted out by Freddy Mercury on the loudspeaker.

You smile, and nod, because boxing-fan or not, she's right, these are some amazing seats. And considering you didn't have to pay a dime for them, personal aversions aside, you're never going to turn down free stuff.

Jess' husband tested positive for covid at the last minute, and you're the only one in your social circle that is anti-social and single enough to not have any plans on a Friday evening.

On the monitors above you, the menacing headshots of the two fighters swish into view.

"The first guy is an old reigning champ," she explains to you, as she leans in, shouting into your eardrums (and yet you can still barely make out what she's saying over the music). "The challenger is some new kid on the block. Has an amazing track record. Zero losses in the season. He's something else."

You look up at the gigantic screen, at the sharp cut cheeks, strong thick brows and the intense pitched brown eyes staring down at you.

Angry looking dude.

...Handsome too.

With a face like that, surely he could've gone into other careers. Calvin Klein model, movie star, or a news anchor. You wonder what makes a guy voluntarily have his face bashed in for money as a career.

"Ladies and gentlemen," a loud booming voice announces from the stage.

You jump in your seat from the suddenness, as you see a bald and overly formal dressed announcer in the middle of the ring. 

"Welcome to the electrifying boxing showdown of the century! Are you ready to witness some knockout action tonight?"

The crowd around you cheers with a pandemonium of shouting and whistling.

"Introducing our first fighter, a true hometown hero! With an impressive record of 20 wins, 15 by knockout, and only 2 losses, standing at 6'3 feet, and weighing in at 340 pounds of determination and strength, give it up for ‘the Knockout King’ Bobby Kane!"

You watch as the reigning champion walks down the tunnel to the midst of adoring cheers as he waves and gestures at the crowd like royalty.

Every inch the king that he is nicknamed, he jumps over the rope and stands tall and proud over the ring.

The man is huge, bulging with almost grotesque muscles. He's so large that you almost expect each of his steps to send a reverberation throughout the hall, as if this was Jurassic Park and he's a T-Rex.

"Now, entering the ring with the confidence of a warrior, fighting out of the red corner, with 15 wins, 10 by knockout, and no losses, standing at an astounding 6 feet 9 inches, and weighing in at 310 pounds of raw power, let's hear it for tonight's challenger, ‘Steel Jaw’ Miguel O'Hara!"

Wait what? You do a double take at the announcement. Six foot nine?!?! What kind of giant is that?

From the far corner of the hall, you see his silhouette emerge, and your eyes go wide at the sight of him. Tall doesn't even begin to describe him. 

There's a 200 year oak tree at Central Park, and with the shadow this man casts, you think their height must be nearly comparable. If you thought the Knockout King was tall, the "King" is practically tiny compared to this challenger.

You watch, as the man with cheeks so sharp they mind as well be blades (and god never has a nickname made more sense to you) as he strides towards the stage. He reaches the rope and barely even has to climb over it with how tall he is.

He's leaner than his predecessor. Every inch of him is cut muscles and tanned gorgeous skin as he stands in front of you. His presence is electric. The air crackles where he stands, towering over the stage.

You swear that his towering height blocks out the ring lights with it, casting the stage in the darkness of his tall shadow.

Somehow, he's even prettier in person compared to the still image of him blown up and plastered on the big screen. Soft brown curls and pouty lips. You don't understand in what world a man like that is a professional fighter.

From this distance, with the way that the light refracts from his irises, his eyes almost glow with a scarlet red that takes your breath away as you look up at him and meet his eyes.

If you didn't know better, you'd think he was staring at you.

The bell rings out, but he's not looking away. The intensity you find there is enough to make you swallow your tongue. Your face prickles with heat and for several long moments you forget to breathe, until the air seems to thin around you and your vision starts to swim.

Then he turns to face his opponent.

You're not quite sure where to look. There's so much happening at once. For his size, Miguel O'Hara is surprisingly deft on his feet. His footwork is somehow both unpredictable yet intentional all at once.

The King throws a strong punch, as he lunges forward, after his tall opponent. But O'Hara dodges them seemingly without effort. It's followed by punches so quick, the movements blur together.

Strike after strike. The King is giving it his all. But none of it properly connects. With every failed hit, you can see him growing increasingly more frustrated.

Your heart is in your lungs, and despite how close you are to the stage, you almost want to get up from your seat for a closer look.

Safe as you are behind the ropes, adrenaline rushes through your veins with a fury. You can't recall the last time you felt this ecstatic about... well, anything.

With each punch O’Hara dodges, you feel yourself lurch back in your seat, trying to dodge the punch with him.

It's titillating.

Exciting.

O'Hara's movements are precise and honed with intention despite the ferocity in his movements. Each one is measured and intricate and if you didn't know any better you'd almost call it graceful.

You think back to those moments in your childhood friend's home, and his excited words buzz in your ears now. For the first time ever you finally understand what he had meant.

It is like a dance.

Before you, O’Hara's eyes cross over in your direction and for a split of a second, you swear your eyes connect again. His gaze holds you there, pinned to your seat, and excitement shoots through the entirety of your spine until you feel lightheaded from the attention.

Then he finally steps forward, no longer evading.

It's brutal and efficient.

An uppercut that connects cleanly to his opponent's jaw.

Spit and blood flies out from the man's mouth, the flabby flesh of his cheek vibrating from the impact as he lands on the floor with an ear-shattering thud.

Then the guy is out.

Barely even eight minutes in. 

There's a stunned and shocked silence. The crowd seems both enthralled and disappointed at how fast it all went. On the ring floor, you can practically see the circle of cartoon birds flying above the defeated King's head.

You may not know anything about boxing, but you know that this man is not getting up anytime soon, no matter how far the referee counts.

Tearing your eyes away from the motionless body splayed out on the ground elevated above you, you can see the victor towering menacingly over the body.

But Miguel O'Hara isn't even looking at his defeated opponent

No, his eyes are staring straight into the sea of awestruck spectators. Except he’s not looking at them.

He's looking at you.

~ Next.

Author's note: What's that you say? CiCi wtf are you doing starting another series when you already got one going on? ... Idek man. But I hope you guys enjoy it, cause I had a blast writing it, smut will ensue in later chapters I promise!

Dedications and Credits: Buckle up it's gonna be a big one!

Firstly to @guruan when I say she's my muse THIS IS WHAT I MEAN! Look at that beautiful artwork. I am drooling into my panties. I am crying between my legs. I am so damn horny! I cannot thank this amazingly talented genius enough. Please please give this wonderful brilliant human your love by following her, and drop by her KO-FI SHOP cause the art this woman bless us with is UN-fucking-REAL

Then to @djarinsbeskar who put this idea into my head. In my mind she is the OG Boxer AU champion and mastermind. If you are in the mood for more boxing content, she has a wonderful, devastatingly sexy series Boxer!Din AU that is just woof woof bark bark.

[spitdrunken]

THIS IS INCREDIBLY SELF-INDULGENT BUT. MY BLOG!

notes: power imbalance, sexual harrassment, murder mentions.

rotating a thought in my head where 'you' are an increasingly popular erotica writer from the pride ring. with writing, you've hit a bit of a niche, as a lot of the big porn producers (VoxTech's subsidiaries) are not exactly known for their riveting dialogue or personalities. no one's there for anything more than that, but there are demons who do want a bit more 'meat', so to say, with nowhere else turn. that is where you come in!

it's not enough to make a steady living off of, not even when you start taking incredibly specific commissions, but it's never been more of a hobby anyway. you are completely anonymous online, keeping care to use throwaway emails and accounts for everything. still, voxtech's products are utterly inescapable: it's either using them, or using nothing at all. (and those rumours about their boss vox having complete control over his technology, even after selling, has to be a rumour... you hope.)

meanwhile, as your penname continues to grow more and more recognizable, it falls in the vees' meeting room. valentino's immediate suggestion is just to kill you. people in the comments keep comparing his dialogue to yours. what the fuck is that about? who the hell watches porn for the DIALOGUE in the first place?

velvette, while shrugging her shoulders, only adds that their new releases tend to go trending, prior to release. fucking far from the top of that list, but still. trending is trending.

vox, sighing internally, plasters a smile on his face. there's really no need to kill new up and coming talent, val. we should suggest them to work for us instead. and if they don't... we can simply prevent them from working. they'll make up their mind, then.

you return to your laptop to an utterly inescapable pop-up describing the opportunity of a lifetime: the chance to work at voxtech! it's a whole wall of text, describing your pay (higher than you would have expected), where you will be living (in one of the appartment buildings owned by voxtech), and when to head to their main office. there is no word on denying the contract, an utter impossibility, it seems. not that you'd dare. vox's and the radio demon's showdown was the talk of the ring for days, and apparantly, all that rancour was the source of alastor denying a contract of his own. that really is more shit than you can handle in your undead life now. so, you take the job.

as your stories are starting to get heavily promoted, velvette absolutely insists that you add in at least a couple of looong clothing descriptions, based on her tastes. she's such an overwhelming, pushy presence, that it's hard for you to say no. she goes on about how, if it gets popular enough, people might be interested in somewhat similar outfits. probably not, though, let's be honest with ourselves. she makes you model them, all the while telling you that you really wouldn't be allowed to breathe in the direction of her studio otherwise. when you ask her why you absolutely have the one modelling, she just rolls her eyes. you based large parts of their appearances after you, didn't you? might as well make you look the part.

valentino is one of the worst parts of the job. compared to everyone else, he hardly pesters you, but he's still a terrifying presence. he'll give you 'suggestions' and make you steer your work in certain directions, getting too close and blowing smoke into your face. he gives a graphic description of how he jacked off to one of your stories, just to see your response. (this is a lie: why would he jack off if he can just call some stupid whore over to do it for him? also, he doesn't read.)

if a part of one of your stories ever gets a 'porno adaptation', he's having you play the part of the director, and has you sit in during the entirety of the viewing. you can tell he takes great pleasure out of any of your discomfort, or any of your fumbling- until it's too sloppy, and then he gets mad, of course, and you end up leaving the room with shaky legs.

vox seems to be the nicest one out of the three of them. really, he's only ever been courteous to you. but you've seen him flip his lid during the aforementioned 'radio demon fiasco', which you have been wise enough to never mention, so you still walk on eggshells around him. he can also get pretty pushy about deadlines, so you're not taking any chances.

he insists on having semi-regular meetings with you about the sales figures of your most recent works, wherein you also have to describe your process on other projects and pitch new ideas. frankly, you wish these meetings could be an email! but even when you tried to broach the subject, telling him that, surely, the company leader's time is much more important than this?

he simply brushed you off, telling you that he can decide for himself who and what to spend his time on, thank you very much. now, please continue. he'll inform you of the latest kinks and dynamics that have been most popular, though with some peculiar additions as well. you swear that, sometimes, the main character really does seem to resemble yourself in those suggestions, and the love interest a member of the vees...? you're certain you're just imagining it.

[theyhavetakenovermylife]

How The Movie Night Went (18+)

Fortnite!Raphael x reader

A/N: Another short blurb like thingy I just had to do❤️

All characters are aged up.

Warnings: Rough sex, doggy style, unprotected sex, back shots.

It had started off like any other movie night for you and your boyfriend. You and Raph had decided to start watching a series together, and this time you would actually watch it, and not get caught up in any other activities. Well, that’s at least what the two of you have been saying for a while now. But each and every time, you and Raph would end up doing… other things. And those things would usually involve Netflix asking if the two of you were still watching, while you had either one of your openings stuffed, or Raph’s lips locked somewhere on you. And today… was no different.

The series you and Raph had wanted to watch together was playing in the background, with an important scene taking place. A tense showdown, the protagonist having a meeting with their enemy, tension slowly rising before the inevitable climax. But neither you or Raph was keeping an eye on it. In fact, it had very quickly turned into background noise to the activities you and your turtle boyfriend had gotten up to. To be honest, you couldn’t even hear what was going on on the screen, due to Raph’s heavy grunts and growls, and the echoing slaps from his skin meeting the back of your thighs.

You yelped as Raph’s three fingered hand came down on your right butt cheek, watching it jiggle before grabbing on with both hands, pulling you back on his as he increased the speed of his hips.

You cried out, resting your forehead against the soft surface of the couch, once again thanking the universe that Raph’s family wasn’t home, allowing you to be as loud as you wanted to. And Raph loves when you’re loud, his body reacting to it instantly, his speed increasing even further.

Moans left your lips as one of your hands slided down between your legs, finding your bundle of nerves, being wet from both you and Raph’s slick that had dripped down over it, using it to lubricate your fingers, rubbing them in circles over you. Raph saw you move your hand over you, and felt your walls close in around him, sending a low groan out with his deep churrs, his hips buckling against you from behind.

“Fuck yeah, babe”, he moaned, catching your eyes as you looked at him over your shoulder, your cheeks flushed and our mouth agape. “Rub yourself for me. Fucking cum on my dick”, he continued, before planting another slap to your butt cheek, the loud sound piercing through the empty lair.

“Raph! Babe!”, you called out, feeling tears of pleasure forming in your eyes, at the stinging yet pleasurable sensation on your soft flesh.

There sounded loud yells and screams from the tv screen, but neither you or Raph gave it a second thought. Instead Raph lifted his left knee, putting the weight on his foot instead, giving him another angle to plow into you with. You cried out once more, your back arching upwards, and your fingers stopping momentarily. Raph leaned over you, his plastron resting against your back, while one of his hands moved from your hips, up your sides and under your shirt, grabbing your breast in his fist. You felt his breath against the shell of your ear, slowly bringing life to your fingers once again. Raph chuckled.

“Do you love my dick, babe?”, he asked, amusement thick in his voice. “Do you love it when I fuck you stupid? Do you love it when I take you on the couch while no one is here, huh, (Y/N)?”

“Yes, Raph!”, you cried out, your fingers working just as fast as his thrusting member, both bringing immense pleasure, pushing you closer and closer to the edge. You let out a desperate cry, letting Raph know that you were close. So damn close that you almost were going crazy.

“I’m going to make you cum so hard”, Raph mumbeled, before straightening back up, placing both hands back on your hips, going to town on you with all the power his strong body could muster.

You saw stars before your eyes, as Raph assaulted your g-spot over and over again, pushing you over the edge and into the ocean of pleasure that was your orgasm. Your body contorted under Raph, with the hand you hand used on yourself, instinctively reaching for Raph behind you. He held onto your hand, feeling his own high rabbitly appearance with the clenching of your walls around him, your juices gushing down his member. He felt the tightening of his muscles behind his cloaca, quickly pulling out of you, before resting himself between your cheeks, right before your lower back. With small grunts, Raph came onto your back side, closing his eyes as he emptied himself onto you, letting him run down the curve of your back, pooling at your spine.

Slowly coming down from your highs, panting as you opened your eyes, you were met with a very familiar message from Netflix on the tv screen; “Are you still watching?” Once again, you and Raph had failed to watch the damn show, creating a mess of your backside like all of the other times. Guess movie nights were just bound to fail for the two of you - just like you both secretly wanted it to.

[luna-rainbow]

CATWS and its building of stakes

Part of the reason why CATWS was so memorable in its appeal was the way it built the stakes throughout the story. Each of the major characters had something(s) at stake by the final act, and that was pivotal for the plot to sustain its tension and for the satisfaction in its final payoff.

The overarching conflict was the global, existential threat of Hydra getting their mass murder machine up in the air, and the ideological question of what the middle ground between freedom and security should be. But what made the final act so moving was the intimately personal stakes for many of our characters.

There was, obviously, the very personal stake Steve had to surmount in having to physically get through Bucky in order to protect the freedom he was advocating for. But apart from Steve, every other major character was challenged with a personal sacrifice in the final showdown. Nat was faced with having all her covers blown and her past - that she had tried so hard to hide - revealed to the world. Sam was confronted with going back into the field after losing his partner so traumatically that he changed careers. Fury was grappling with dismantling the organisation that he had devoted his life to build. And on the other side, Pierce and Rumlow had invested decades of their lives in an ideology which if successful would install them at the top of the food chain.

There was a great meta from years back talking about how well the movie established the competencies of the characters before introducing threats -- and how we were then able to quickly understand the threat because of how competent we have seen our protagonists be. Every action sequence served a purpose and built upon the previous one.

The Lumerian Star sequence was fantastic in how effectively it established the competence of not just Steve and Nat, but the entire Strike team. Rumlow and Rollins were good at their job; they're not super soldiers or super spies, sure, but they were skilled enough to keep pace with Steve and Nat.

This was an important foreword for the elevator fight, which itself was a pre-requisite for the Causeway fight. We have seen both Steve and the Strike team capable of taking down multiple pirates swiftly, so when the elevator fight started, there was a genuine sense of threat to Steve, even if he would make a quick job of disabling them. Then, after seeing Steve's skills against a very capable Strike team, it became all the more terrifying when the Winter Soldier almost nailed him to a van about 2 minutes into their fight.

On the other side, the Winter Soldier's introduction was an assemblage of horror story tropes -- of unexpected manifestations and impossible disappearances, and urban myths stretching back through half a century. The two characters used to introduce him were extremely competent from what we had seen of them. There's Fury, normally prescient and wily, scraping by a very determined assassination attempt, only to be stopped by the Winter Soldier materialising in the middle of the road...which he escaped, only to be later shot through the wall. There's Nat, normally cunning and cautious, telling Steve of how the Winter Soldier successfully ambushed her, of how his kills spanned 50 years, a logical improbability.

Not only was Steve about to meet the Winter Soldier with the weight of these legends behind him, from the vantage point of Hydra, they were sending out the Asset to meet Captain America with his historical legends behind him (oh look, another narrative parallel). All of this build-up culminated in the Causeway fight. The technical impressiveness of the stunts aside, part of why that fight worked so well was because we have had all these story beats that showed us how capable Steve and the Winter Soldier were, then we see them both genuinely struggle to overcome the other.

We can't talk about the final fight without talking about the emotional stakes, and we can't talk about the emotional stakes without discussing what Bucky means to Steve. We already had the "not without you" and the "I'm following the little guy from Brooklyn"; we've also had the "I don't want to kill anyone" turn into "I'm not going to stop until all of Hydra is dead" and the "I'm just a kid from Brooklyn" callback. This movie added the "even when I had nothing I had Bucky" and the "I knew him" and the "he will (know me)" and of course the "end of the line" exchanges.

But there were also more subtle cues -- that came from Steve's frequent rebuff of Nat's suggestions for companionship, the string of betrayals Steve had to grapple with, and Steve's lamentations of guilt and regret and uncertainty. Steve could not deny that he was lonely, but he had 101 excuses for why he could not make new connections. Steve did not know what he's looking for or why he's fighting or how long he wanted to continue, until he found out what was behind SHIELD and, specifically, what Hydra had done with Bucky.

Even removing the shipping angle, the final showdown between Steve and Bucky was unique in superhero movies, even for a friend-turned-enemy battle. It was not like the fight between Tony Stark and Obadiah Stane, or Peter Parker and Harry Osborne, or even Thor and Loki or Charles and Erik -- because there was no ideological divide between Steve and Bucky. Bucky did not and could not believe in the cause he's fighting for - he simply did not have that capacity for choice. The ideological battle was carried by the other characters - between Fury and Nat vs Pierce, between Sam vs Rumlow, and between the rest of SHIELD vs Hydra.

For Steve, his fight was much purer, dearer, and more heart-rending. The final battle held such emotional significance, not just because he's fighting his best friend, but also because his best friend was an unwilling participant in the circumstances. Bucky was Steve's physical equal, but he's also Steve's shared life experience, his tragically failed mission, his unfulfilled childhood promise, his betrayed faith in SHIELD, and the price that was paid for Hydra to grow under SHIELD's nose. This fight offered closure for all of these narrative and emotional threads.

He was also, once again, Hydra's asking price in exchange for the freedom Steve wanted for the world...and Steve so desperately wanted, this time, for that world to include Bucky.

[angellayercake]

Thinking really hard about how easily a Raphael romance could have been added.

Only if you accept his deal and only if you reciprocate all his flirting (because no one can convince me he isn't flirting genuine or not) you can suggest the two of you consummate your newly signed deal and then that is that right?

But then if you decide actually I've made a mistake, the Emperor wins you over, or you decide that Gale deserves the crown more, you break into his House of Hope and discover things between you are not as you thought.

You find he has written about you extensively, in his diaries, in his little stories, he even has your signed contract pride of place in his archive that is filled with centuries worth of treasures. It's flattering at first learning how much he has thought of you, how important you are to his plans but the more you find, that you even haunt his dreams, the bigger the knot of unease grows in your chest.

Your exploration continues until you get your invitation to the boudoir and of course that is a temptation you can't resist. Haarlep greets you and is eager to tell you how Raphael is interested in no one but himself but you know that's not entirely true. Between your night together and everything you have discovered thus far you know. So you tell them, maybe even boasting slightly that perhaps you are the exception but all the reaction you get is a smirk and assurance that being an object of his obsession has always worked out well in the past.

You could heed their veiled, smugly given warning or you could continue on with your mission. In this scenario Haarlep can be convinced to help you without either sleeping with them or killing them. They would gladly give you the key to the safe just to have a front row seat to the showdown between Raphael and his rebellious new pet. You find the pass code for your contract which gives you pause.

His heart's desire? You know it is the crown and the power that will inevitably come with it but that little phrase being used in association with you makes you question more than anything else so far if you are doing the right thing.

And then there is Hope. Maybe you feel sorry for her, maybe you can't squash down that flicker of jealousy but then as you learn more and more about her, why she is there and what he has done, you realise what you are about to do is exactly what earned Hope these years of imprisonment and torment. Deprive him of something he wants desperately. So you have one last chance to make a decision and you better make it quickly.

The master of the house is coming...

[sunny44]

Old vs new

Pairing: Lewis Hamilton x daughter

Warnings: none, just fluff

Summary: When Lewis is bored in his house and decide to do a instagram live with his daughter.

This is a request

It was a sunny afternoon and I was bored in the house, my wife was with her sister and I was at our house with my daughter who was doing something in her room and then I had the idea of doing an Instagram live witch is something I usually don’t do but since the fans lives Ava I thought it was a good ideia.

I called Ava saying to meet me in my trophies room and when I press the button to start the live, Ava entered the room and she sit in my lap and we immediately created a buzz as fans tuned in to witness our live.

"Hey everyone, I've got a very special lady here with me today," I said to the phone and Ava smiled and waved at everyone. "As you guys already now this is my daughter Ava. And she’s already in go kart to be the next Hamilton.”

Mia giggled, her eyes lighting up as she playfully jabbed, "Yeah, Dad, you're not as fast as you used to be. You're like, ancient in F1 years!"

The comment sparked laughter from Lewis and his audience. "Ancient, huh?" he responded, feigning shock. "Well, I might not be as young as I was when I started, but I've still got a few tricks up my sleeve!"

Ava’s eyes twinkled mischievously. "Oh, I've seen your tricks, Dad. I've also seen your old races on TV. Vintage stuff!"

The banter continued as they reminisced about Lewis's early days in racing. He recounted stories of his breakthrough races, while Mia giggled at the outdated racing gear he used to wear. "Hey, don't laugh too hard! Those suits were cutting-edge back then," Lewis protested, feigning offense.

Mia, her voice dripping with mock seriousness, quipped, "Yeah, sure they were, Dad. Just like those ancient cell phones you used!"

The playful teasing exchanged between father and daughter endeared them to their audience even more. Amidst the jokes, Lewis shared the valuable lessons he learned from his journey – the hard work, dedication, and resilience that drove him to become a champion.

"You know, Ava" Lewis began with a thoughtful expression, "racing isn't just about speed and trophies. It's about determination and pushing yourself beyond your limits. That's something you'll need to remember when you're the next Hamilton in F1."

Mia's eyes gleamed as she leaned closer to the camera. "Oh, I'll remember, Dad. And when I'm on that track, I'll make sure to remind everyone that the Hamilton legacy continues!"

Their connection was a beautiful blend of admiration and camaraderie. As the conversation flowed, Lewis turned the tables on Ava. "You know what, Ava? I think it's time for a challenge. How about we have a karting race this weekend? Old vs new!"

Ava's face lit up, excitement radiating from her. "You're on, Dad! Just remember, I've been practicing!"

As the live session drew to a close, Lewis shared his pride in his daughter's aspirations. "I'm not just her father, but also her biggest fan. If she chooses to step into the world of racing, I'll be there every step of the way."

The Instagram Live ended with promises of the upcoming karting showdown and a grateful farewell to the fans. Lewis and Ava had not only shared their love for racing but had given the world a glimpse into the genuine bond they shared – a bond that would undoubtedly continue to flourish as the next generation of the Hamilton legacy began to unfold.

[ecargmura]

Unpopular Opinion: I Liked The Hashira Training Arc! (Season 4 Review)

Unpopular opinion: I liked this arc! While the Entertainment District arc will always be a personal favorite of mine, the Hashira Training arc was fun for a majorly low stakes arc where there is no demon slaying. I liked seeing Tanjiro going through shenanigans with the Hashira and fellow Demon Slayer Corps. It was a definite calm before the storm before all the stuff that transpired at the end of Episode 7 and the entirety of Episode 8. It definitely got me engaged and anticipating the movie trilogy.

In the manga, this was Demon Slayer’s shortest arc with it only being 8 chapters, I believe. Ufotable expanding the training and also giving anime original content was a real treat to fans because fans of the Hashiras can have more content before the the depression that is the Infinity Castle arc (Yes, I read the manga and yes, I know how depressing the next arc will be). Sanemi and Iguro actually get a lot of action scenes because their skills weren’t revealed until the Infinity Castle arc, so it’s a treat to finally see them finally get some action, even if it’s anime original content.

I think the best part about the arc is the added content. In the manga, Tanjiro goes through each Hashira training in a page or two. That’s it. He just sweeps through them like that. Ufotable takes time to help both Tanjiro and the viewers see what he is going through for each training session. Some take weeks to finish.

The first two episode is mainly a rundown of what’s to come for the other episodes and a sneak peak at the Infinity Castle, which finally appears in the season’s finale. It’s mainly the Hashira learning that the Demon Slayer mark that Muichiro and Mitsuri temporarily got back in the previous season is an effective way to take down demons, hence why they decided to hold a training session so Hashiras and the corps can get a boost in power before the big fight. Giyu was the only one who didn’t want to participate in it, so the second episode was just Tanjiro trying to cheer him up and learning why he is detached from the rest—it turned out to be due to self-loathing over the fact that his friend Sabito died while trying to protect him during the Final Selection Exam. Fortunately, Tanjiro was able to get Giyu to cheer up and he recovers well enough to participate in the Hashira Training, which is from Episodes 3 to 7. Also, no one is harking on Shinobu for not participating in the training session; though, she has a reason to not participate…

What I liked about the Hashira Training is learning what Uzui and Muichiro have been up to since their spotlighted arc. In fact, all of the Hashira Training is to get attached to the Hashira before the big showdown. While Uzui has retired, he has been helping out with the training by making the corps do basic training like stamina building and endurance. His three wives Suma, Makio and Hinatsuru tell Tanjiro that Uzui does want to participate in battles again, which worries them. It’s nice to see that the Hashira has their own fair share of worries even after retiring. I don’t think Uzui wants to fight demons out of bloodlust, but it’s more like he wants to help out. Muichiro, after getting his memories and emotions back, is still the same in demeanor, but the way he’s super sweet to Tanjiro but super cold and condescending to the other corps members was hilarious. He clearly has favoritism. I think the best part of these two episodes is seeing Tanjiro motivating the other nameless corps members to work hard! Tanjiro will always be a ray of sunshine to everyone!

Episode 5 is where the Hashira spotlight sort of stops because Mitsuri gets the short end of the stick. While she is still the same after the Swordsmith Village Arc, it would have been nice to learn what has changed for her since then. Though, I would admit that her flexibility training is the scariest of the bunch because getting your legs stretched out all the way when it’s not used to it is terrifying. You need your legs, after all! After that, Mitsuri’s training is done and then Iguro gets most of the spotlight, which makes sense because Iguro isn’t really showcased as much in the manga. Giving him that extra spotlight is necessary. I honestly liked the Iguro training segment because of how it was animated. The first episode showcased Iguro’s Breathing skills and he is able to utilize that in a regular wooden sword. Though, I do admit that Iguro tying up the nameless corps onto poles does make me wonder if they were tied there afterwards on purpose or if they always angered Iguro. After Iguro’s training is Sanemi’s training where it’s just hacking and slashing, but Tanjiro gets the most fatal blows due to his dislike for him. After helping Genya and trying to stop an angry Sanemi, Tanjiro gets a restraining order and is suspended from doing Sanemi’s training. The backstory between Genya and Sanemi was shown in Season 3 and why Genya wanted to apologize. I know that Sanemi does have his reasons for getting angry at Genya and why he was telling him to quit the corps, but he’s not doing a great job on expressing it. I always saw Sanemi as a bit of a foil of Tanjiro in a sense as they’re both the oldest but their treatment of their only living family member is totally different due to how they process the trauma.

Episode 6 is where the comedy starts because it was the most hilarious episode. Just seeing Tanjiro, Zenitsu and Inosuke reunited to do Himejima’s training session was so funny. Tanjiro had to be the mom friend by saving Zenitsu and Inosuke from drowning in two different occasions. Also, learning about Himejima’s backstory in the following episode hurt a lot because the kid who ratted them out to the demon in order to survive was the kid who bullied Zenitsu in his flashback back in Season 1.

Then in the last two episodes, Muzan finally shows up. After making small appearances here and there with new Upper Four Nakime in order to search for Nezuko, Muzan located Ubuyashiki and entered the base. It was amusing that the penultimate episode had him walk for like 5 minutes. Muzan confronts the Master and after talking with each other, the Master launches the craziest bombing I’ve seen in an anime so far. He legit did a suicide bombing with Amane and his two daughters Nichika and Hinaki—if you saw the opening, the Master has 5 kids, so no, his entire family isn’t wiped out. Where are the other three kids? Well, watch the movies to find out.

I think the finale was very memorable because of how everything played out once the bombing happened and how every Demon Slayer Corps got sent into the Infinity Castle in hopes that Muzan will wipe them out for good. It does reflect on what Ubuyashiki said before with how the Demon Slayer Corps are eternity in itself in a similar way to Muzan. In order for Muzan to be eternity, he needs to wipe out his main obstacle so that he can find Nezuko without anything blocking his path.

The animation has been consistent with the quality getting an upgrade whenever there’s an action scene. However, the finale amps up the quality tenfold. The way Himejima attacks and also blocks Muzan’s attacks to seeing Tamayo’s expressions move around from anger to regret were seriously a visual treat. The music was really good too! The finale really amped up the soundtrack. Go Shiina really knows how to produce quality songs—I’ve always been a fan of his pieces as I am a big fan of the Tales series.

All in all, making the Infinity Castle arc into a movie trilogy is actually the best solution because the arc is very long and it mainly consists of fighting the remaining Upper Moons. Trying to condense the arcs into a television series might be difficult due to choppy pacing and untimely cliffhangers. While I’m not necessarily a big anime movie fan, I still do think this is the best route Ufotable can take with a big franchise like Demon Slayer. What are your thoughts for this entire season and your thoughts on the movie trilogy announcement?

[ichigopanhpff]

Translation: Toman Tengoku Showdown from the “Tokyo Revengers Exhibition The Final World Line SILVER” Book

In Roppongi’s TR exhibition, they had a section where they had an installation of the final timeline story drawn by Wakui-sensei. This installation had a mix of the printed manga panels and voiceover drama to cover more backstory and content because the man can only draw and cover so much.

Luckily, they included the transcript to the voice overs and are divided up into chapters with titles, which I'll mark with --.

I was lucky enough to my my hands on the book directly from their limited time merch site (https://mikey-mart.online/); unfortunately, they ended all online orders by 2/4.

Out of respect for the exhibition and the hard work put into this entire thing by Wakui-sensei and the staff, I will not be posting any images of the panels from the booklet and will post whatever the official exhibition's Twitter account have posted. I’ll do my best to put scene descriptions where I see fit. I have seen there are some JP vloggers who've done content on the exhibition itself, but don't know how much they were able to film.

They also have an interview with the artist who made the statue installation of the Tenjiku arc scene where Takemichi raised his fist up when Mikey appeared, an interview with the Japanese VAs and Wakui-sensei himself. If there’s enough interest in any of those sections, I’ll do my best to translate them.

Note: Translation isn’t 100% and I may take some liberties in translating certain things for a more colloquial approach. Anything in brackets are my personal notes.

Intro: This is the story about our final time leap and battle.

Kisaki: The Toman Tengoku Battle will take place one week from today. It will take place at the Roppongi 3rd multi-story Parking Lot.

Panel Card: Tokyo Roppongi Manji Tengoku Summit Meeting

[This is the panel they teased in the YT video where Toman, Tenjiku and Black Dragons were sitting in a private room in a Chinese restaurant].

Kisaki: There are three rules: No weapons! No retaliations! The gang that wins will absorb the other gangs! No objections?

Takemichi: None.

Taiju: There’s nothing left to say at this point!

Izana: This’ll be a festival to decide whose fist will rule over the biggest gang in all of Japan; a huge feud between the three of us.

Kisaki: This concludes the meeting!!

(Each respective gang make their exits)

Takemichi: The next time we’ll see each other will be at the battlefield.

Mikey: Get ready to be beaten to a pulp.

Taiju: Ha! Back at you!

Izana: Hmph.

Kakucho: Are you okay with this, Izana?

Izana: With what?

Kakucho: Isn’t Mikey Shinichiro-san’s younger brother? Are you gonna go all out?

Izana: … Haha. Idiot Kakucho. This will be the second time Mikey and I go at it.

Flashback quote: “Even if we’re not related by blood, Shin-nii is my brother!!!”

--Get blood out of a stone--

Young Hanagaki Takemichi CV: Watanabe Akeno Young Sano Manjiro CV: Fairouzi Ai Young Kurokawa Izana CV: Tanezaki Atsumi

Takemichi: This is your hardest mission, Mikey-kun.

Mikey: Got it.

(Takemichi and Mikey are standing in front of the orphanage talking to each other secretly)

Takemichi: I don’t know what kind of scary thing will happen if we tell Izana-kun suddenly. That’s why I thought of this strategy.

(Takemichi starts shaking as he opens his hand with a piece of chocolate)

Mikey: Chocolate?

Takemichi: Yes, chocolate. [Oh you sweet summer child…]

(He begins to explain his strategy with confidence.)

Takemichi: This is how you’ll lure Izana-kun in and with time, you two will slowly start getting along and gradually tell him the truth.

(Takemichi clenches his fist, immersed in a monologue)

Takemichi: This is a perfect plan, if I do say so myself… With this, Izana-kun will also…

Mikey: Yeah.

(Mikey runs in before Takemichi realized)

Takemichi: Mikey-kun…?

(Mikey punches Izana and sends him flying, landing firmly on the ground.) [Good job following the plan.]

Mikey: You’re Kurokawa Izana!

(Takemichi is so surprised, he’s rendered speechless)

Takemichi: Mikey-kun?!

(Izana stands up)

Izana: What the hell’s up with you?!

Mikey: I’m Sano Manjiro!

(Takemichi noticed Izana is surprised by Mikey’s words)

Izana: You said you’re Shin-nii’s… younger brother?

Takemichi: Mikey-kun…

(Mikey throws another punch)

Mikey: You and Shinichiro aren’t connected by blood!

Takemichi: Mikey-kun!

(Izana returns the punch)

Izana: What the hell are you goin’ on ‘bout, y’bastard?!

(The fist fight between the two turn into an argument)

Mikey: There’s no way you two are siblings! Why would you trust my idiot older brother like that!

Izana: What?! The hell’s wrong with you? Are you an idiot for comin’ here?!

Mikey: You accepted Shinichiro’s words without even questioning it ‘cus you’re lonely, right?! That guy did some digging, but now he can’t take back what he’s said and didn’t even mention he had a younger brother!

(The two face each other)

Mikey: I bet you must’ve noticed it too.

Izana: … Shut uuuppppp! What do you know?! My parents threw me away… I’m here while you have a warm family to raise you. You understand nothing! What if we are blood related?!

Mikey: Is it really that important to you?!

(The two start their fist fight again and eventually lay on their backs on the ground)

Mikey and Izana: Haa haa…

Izana: … Shin-nii is my brother! Even if we’re not blood related, he’s still my brother!

Mikey: … Shinichiro said the same thing.

--End--

Taiju: Mitsuya. Is Hakkai gonna go at us seriously?

Mitsuya: … Stop calling on the enemy to check up on your baby brother. You and Yuzuha are a pair of spoiled siblings. Hakkai’ll end up that way too.

Flashback quote: “No matter how violent you get on us, mom will never come back!!”

Taiju: Hmph.

--Let’s drop it--

Young Shiba Taiju CV: Tomozaku Sugita Young Shiba Yuzuha CV: Komatsu Mikako Young Shiba Hakkai CV: Hatanaka Yu Young Sano Manjiro: Fairouzi Ai

(A door forcefully bursts open into a room, where an angry Taiju enters in)

Taiju: Who forgot to turn off the bathroom light?

(Yuzuha and Taiju become frightened)

Hakkai: A… A--

Yuzuha: It’s me!

(Yuzuha protects Hakkai)

Taiju: … Why are you lying?

Yuzuha: Eh?! I’m not lying! It was me!

Taiju: The toilet seat was up. Only men do that.

(Hakkai’s hand clenches tightly at Taiju)

Taiju: Hakkai! Come here!

(Yuzuha interferes to stop Taiju)

Yuzuha: Wait! Don’t beat Hakkai anymore! Let me take his punishments instead! Please!

Hakkai: Sis…

(Hakkai hangs his head down, unable to say anything)

Taiju: You said it. From now on, you’ll take the beating for two people. Is that fine with you, Yuzuha?!

Hakkai: …

(A mysterious voice flashes in Hakkai’s memory!)

Mysterious voice (Mikey): Hakkai!

Hakkai: …!

(Hakkai stands up and faces Taiju)

Hakkai: Stop this already, Taiju!

Yuzuha: Eh…

Taiju: !

(Taiju gets violent with Hakkai)

Taiju: What’re you tryin’ to do here, Hakkai.

Hakkai: Don’t beat up sis anymore! This is ridiculous at how crazy you keep going at us.

Taiju: As I thought, you’re the one who forgot to turn the lights off. How many times have I told you to fix that?

(Hakkai gets hit and falls down. Yuzuha stands and goes beside him)

Hakkai: … I’m sorry for everything up to now, sis.

(Yuzuha is surprised)

Yuzuha: Hakkai.

Hakkai: … My friend told me.

(He recalls Mikey’s voice)

Mikey: It’s okay if you lose. Fight him.

(Taiju turns toward Hakkai)

Hakkai: Cut it out already, Taiju! No matter how violent you get with us, mom’ll never come back to us!

(Taiju is surprised)

Taiju: !… Hakkai.

(Hakkai starts crying)

Hakkai: ‘Cus I’m… I’m lonely…!

Taiju: You…

--End--

Kokonoi: Inupi. How’s Akane-san doing?

Inupi: Yeah. I’m gonna go for it.

Kokonoi: … I see.

Flashback quote: “Leave Inupi-kun to me! Hurry up and go back to save Akane-san!”

Inupi: Well, didn’t you say first loves usually don’t go as planned?

Kokonoi: Shut up.

--Every cloud has a silver lining--

Young Inui Seishu: Koichi Makoto Young Kokonoi Hajime: Igarashi Hiromi Young Inui Akane: Ueda Rena Young Hanagaki Takemichi CV: Watanabe Akeno

(The house is burning with a roaring sound as Kokonoi runs toward it)

Kokonoi: Haa haa… Akane-san!

(Kokonoi desperately addresses someone)

Kokonoi: Fire trucks… Have you seen anyone leave the house?!

Old Lady: I… I’m not sure. I haven’t been able to see anything. I’ll call for the ambulance and fire truck right now!

(Kokonoi turns and suddenly decides to run into the house)

Kokonoi: Akane-san! Akane-san! Haa haa… Akane-san! Akane-san!!

(A mysterious boy suddenly shows up inside the house)

Mysterious boy (Takemichi): Leave Inupi-kun to me! Koko-kun should hurry up and find Akane-san!

Kokonoi: O… Okay.

(Kokonoi continues his search)

Kokonoi: Akane-san! Where are you?! Akane-san! … Akane-san!

(He finally sees her and rushes over. Akane looks like she’s about to pass out)

Akane: … Hajime… kun…?

Kokonoi: I told you I’d protect you, right?

Akane: … Thank you…

(He carries Akane on his back and staggers out)

Old man: Hey! There’s another person who came out!

Old lady: Two people were able to be rescued out of that house. Thank goodness!

Kokonoi: Haa haa…

Seishu: Koko! You were able to save Akane?

Kokonoi: Yeah… But someone else saved you, Inupi.

Seishu: Huh… I was sure it was Koko who saved me. Then… Where are they…?

Kokonoi: … ?

--End--

(Scene is the night of the fight and Toman members are gathering.)

Chifuyu: Baji-san!

Baji: Yo, Chifuyu. It’s finally time, huh.

Chifuyu: Our third big battle! I got Baji-san’s back so you can go all out!

Baji: Oh! I’ll leave it up to you.

Chifuyu: Please leave it up to me.

Kazutora [He a jealous boi]: … Hey, anythin’ goes with you huh? Eh? Eh? When did you join Toman?

Chifuyu: Um… 2004.

Kazutora: Is that right now. And when did I join?

Chifuyu: Um… you’re a founding member, right?

Kazutora: Exactly! This is a photo that only a founding member has!

Chifuyu: Whoa, awesome!

Kazutora: You don’t have this right? Which means I’ve been with Baji much longer, right?

Chifuyu [Poor thing is confused at Tora’s ire]: Ye...ah…?

Kazutora: Baji definitely likes me more, right? You get what I’m gettin’ at, right?

Chifuyu: Yeah.

Takemichi: They’re trying to justify something dumb again.

Kisaki: What are they, kids? I’m surrounded by idiots in Toman.

Takemichi: Idiot. It’s fine as long as you’re the one who’s got it together.

(Takemichi puts his arm around Kisaki’s shoulder and pulls him close)

Kisaki: Stop that. You’re suffocating me.

Takemichi: Rely on me a bit more, partner!

Flashback quote: Do you like Hina? I like her too.

--It takes two to tango--

Young Kisaki Tetta CV: Ozora Naomi Young Tachibana Hinata CV: Waki Azumi Young Hanagaki Takemichi CV: Watanabe Akeno

(Some middle school kids are bullying a cat)

Cat: Nya-!

Hina: Hey, Kisaki-kun. That group is bullying the cat! Hina’s gonna complain about this!

(Hina steadily walks toward them)

Kisaki: Ta-Tachibana?!

(Hina faces the middle school boys [MSB])

Hina: Stop that! What’s so fun about doing something like that?!

MSB A: Huh?

MSB B: I hate kids with a strong sense of justice.

MSB A: Hey! The cat ran away.

MSB B: Then you take the place of the cat.

(Hina resists crying)

MSB: Aww, you’re gonna start cryin’? Did you think we’ll let you go if you started cryin’ like this?

(Kisaki watches from afar)

Kisaki: This is why I said stopping them’s useless.

(Takemichi suddenly appears and takes Kisaki’s arm)

Kisaki: Eh?!

(Takemichi brings Kisaki in front of the middle school kids, stepping onto the gravel)

Takemichi: Stop that!

(Kisaki panics)

Kisaki: Wh-what?

Takemichi: We’re the super hero partners! How dare you middle school kids pick on a young girl. That’s unforgivable!

MSB: Huh? What’s up with you guys?

(Kisaki continues to panic as Takemichi neither cries nor trembles)

Kisaki: W-Why are you including me?!

Takemichi: Shaddap! Let’s go Kisaki! You’re a man too, right?!

Kisaki: Wh-What…

(Takemichi dashes)

Takemichi: Ooooohhhh!

(Hina cries)

Takemichi: I didn’t think too much on my actions before and after.

Hina: (crying noises) Hic… I’m sorry…

(Takemichi’s wounds throb from pain)

Takemichi: Ow ow ow…

Hina: Ah, Hina will go buy some bandages!

(Hina’s running footsteps fade out, leaving Takemichi and Kisaki alone together)

Takemichi: … Do you like Hina?

Kisaki: Eh-Um, uh, I--

Takemichi: (smiling wide) I like her too.

--End--

The night before the Toman Tengoku Showdown at Musashi Shrine…

Toman’s finally gathered, with Mikey facing everyone

Mikey: Tomorrow will finally decide who will be Japan’s top gang! Everyone, are you ready?!

Toman: Yeah!!!

Mikey: Is there anyone scared of tomorrow’s battle?! No one right?! Let’s take the top spot!

(Toman chants)

With the call of Mikey’s voice, Toman’s morale is at its peak. The climax of an alternative future where they continued their revenge.

Mikey: This’ll finally put an end to our revenge.

Takemichi: The final battle.

It’s time to head to the battlefield. Roppongi 3rd multi-story parking lot!

Mikey: Let’s go!

Takemichi: Okay!

Tensions rising! Tokyo Manji Gang, Tenjiku and Black Dragons Gather!!

Tokyo Manji Gang, Tenjiku, Black Dragons A Fight that Lasted One Night to Decide Japan’s Strongest Gang

[sparrowrye]

Alastor x Fem! Reader {soulmates} Part 7

Synopsis: soulmate AU where you have the same mark on your body as your soulmate, and if your soulmate dies, you die too. Alastor needs to make sure that his soulmate is safe so he can continue his reign - whatever that takes. Though it looks like we have a couple secrets of our own.

Part 7: pushing boundaries

Previous Part

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

I reached down to touch the cold, soft cloud. I swayed side to side and looked under me to see my trail along the cloud's surface. I was giggly with the rush of cold air in my lungs. I loved flying.

I flapped up once then dove into the cloud. My heart lurched at the momentary blindness but I came out underneath it to see the ocean beneath me. I looked up to see Husker's bright red wings cutting through the cloud after me. Both our wings were a stark contrast of the beautiful white and blue sky.

Husker was always willing to go on a fly with me. We made it a morning routine. It gave me a lot of exercise since I had to hold up my entire body with my core. It left everything sore but in a good way.

Landing was still rough, though. I glided down and tripped over my own feet while Husker slowed enough to perch exactly where he wanted. He smiled at me, his canine tooth sticking out of his smile.

I lunged at him. He rolled on his back and threw me over with his feet. Roughhousing with him was fun, usually leading into a magic showdown. The goal was to get them the opponent on the ground for five seconds.

I never won. But I did make Husker work for it.

I landed hard on my back and let out a gasp. A few seconds later Husker came into view with a side smile. "You know you'd probably do a lot better if you actually tried to hurt me like before."

"I didn't like you before." I groaned as I pulled myself to a sitting position.

"How kind." He held his hand out and helped me to my feet. I shook my body free of dirt and looked forward to a warm shower.

As we headed back to the house, I noticed Alastor stalking from the porch again. My eyes narrowed and I kept my attention on the door. I ignored him and went upstairs to my bedroom. Ever since he corrected me in the library, I've been ignoring him entirely.

Showering was a new venture with my demon form. I had cut myself a few times with my own claws when washing my hair. It also seemed to constantly tangle around my horns if I didn't have it pulled back. Not to mention the shower was small and I had large wings. They seemed to grow with every day.

I would be meeting Rosie again tonight. I had a journal full of things to tell her. I was slowly seeing more and more memories through my dreams. They were simple scenarios, often abusive, but surely they had something hidden in them.

I followed Alastor behind the house later that evening. I hated when he grabbed me by the waist instead of the shoulders like he used to do. It infuriated me when he would snatch it back before I could shove it off myself. He usually left me at Rosie's then disappeared into the shadows.

Rosie listened to my synopsis of my dreams with amazing patience. Once I had finished, she placed her cup down and asked, "When you dream of your mother, is there a color you often see?"

I was quiet for a moment as I thought about it. "Well...I mean there's lots of red...the walls are always red or brown. But...I don't know...I think...maybe there's some deep blues?”

"Hm...interesting."

"Why?"

"Conjure up that fork in your hand for me, dearie." I focused in on the fork, unsure of how to use teleporting yet. So I did the next best thing and sent it flying into my hand. "Did you notice there was a glow on it?"

"What? A glow?"

Rosie nodded. "Try again. Watch carefully."

This time I tried moving it more slowly. I could see a faint, blue glow surrounding it as it drew near. I watched it for a long moment for looking up at Rosie for an explanation.

"I have a strong feeling that...maybe...perhaps...your mother casted the curse on you."

"What?" I looked between Rosie and the fork. "No she didn't. She was trapped in those fights just like me! She wouldn't handicap my powers like that if it was the difference between living and dying."

"Maybe she did it to protect you. In your memories, you constantly talk about looking over her shoulder. She may have hiding you."

I looked down at my black claws. "Do you think...if the curse is active, does that mean she's alive?"

"I’m afraid not, sweetheart. A curse can stay on someone until they die." She stood to put a hand on my shoulder. "What about your father? Do you have any memories of him?"

I shook my head. "I don't know what he looks like. I don't...I wouldn't know how to pick him out in my dreams. He probably died in a ring fight."

"Or perhaps he escaped. There's still hope, dearie. Let's try looking again."

Our memory search yielded nothing. Though Rosie says I've unraveled more of the curse with the practicing of magic. She reassured me that I was doing everything possible to help my case.

"How's living with Alastor?" she asked abruptly. I coughed on the tea and covered my mouth with a napkin. "Ooh, that doesn’t sound too pretty."

"It's..." I tapped my claws on the glass. "It's uh...it's something."

Rosie laughed. "Oh you sweet thing. You're being so polite. Come, tell Auntie Rosie what it's really like living with him. I know how he can be."

I held my suspicions. "He's uh...Husker and I fixed up the house together. It was practically falling apart."

"Needed a ladies touch, hm?"

"Yeah, you could say that."

"How's he treating you? I'll straighten that man out if he's not treating you like the proper lady you are." My mind jumped to the library and my first escape attempt.

"He's been...alright. He seems to be impatient with me a lot."

"Goodness that man," she huffed. I noticed a shadow appear along the wall behind her. It was Alastor's shadow. "Don't worry dear, I'll tell that old man to mind his manners with you."

"Come now, I'm not that old." Alastor stepped out from behind her chair. She laughed and crossed her arms as she faced him.

"Be patient with your soulmate, Alastor. She's still learning a lot."

"Not to worry, Rosie, I've been very patient with her. Like you said, she has a lot to learn and who better to teach her than me." He casted a glare in my direction. I rubbed my sweaty palms together.

"You betta. Us girls have our own language and I'll know if you weren't being kind to such a sweet thing like her." She hugged me tightly.

"Of course, my lady," Alastor bowed his head to her. "Well, we must be heading home now." He held out his hand for me. The two taller adults watched me, waiting. I clenched my teeth and took his dark red hand. "Good day, Rosie."

"Good day, Alastor." She held the door open for us. I kept my eyes on the ground as we walked over to the scorched symbol. Rosie waved goodbye as we turned to face her. Alastor lifted my hand up and grabbed it with his other one. He placed his hand on my hip and pulled me close. My lips nearly pulled back into a snarl as he smiled down at my discomfort.

The smell of the ocean reached my nose first. My feet touched earth and I immediately shoved him away. He grabbed both my wrists and held them at his shoulder height. "Now is that anyway to treat your soulmate?"

"You surely don't know how to treat one," I snarled, letting my sharp teeth show.

"You make it difficult to with this defiance of yours." He let go of one arm to twiddle his claws in my face.

"Oh right," I scoffed, "I completely forgot. I'm not being held here against my will."

"Not anymore, you're not." He let go. "You came back willingly the night you reunited with your old master."

My tail whipped back and forth. "You're not a savior! You're anything but one. I'm perfectly capable of living on my own. Especially with my new magic."

"Magic you don't yet have control over. And a form you have yet to master for long periods of time. You wouldn't last one week as a young, naive Demon in this world."

"I'm not naive." My claws elongated and my wings grew bigger. My hands emitted a purple glow that rang along my entire body. "I learned just fine how to survive for five years on my own. I know how to handle myself!"

"Do not raise your voice at me." Red stitches appeared on the corners of his mouth and his antlers grew to the size of an elk. His body portions grew inhumanly and he towered above me in seconds. My ears flattened against my head and I bent low to the ground.

He can't kill you. He can't kill you. He can't kill you.

"I'm a human with my own free will." My voice quivered. I had yet to see him distort like this.

"You're a Demon." His arms grew even longer and his huge claws slammed down on either side of me. "A Demon without proper training on her magic. You are a danger to others and yourself." His face slowly came closer to mine. His mouth stopped moving as he spoke, instead his yellow teeth pulsing when he did.

I sprouted my wings and shot myself out from under him. He reached for me but I was too fast with my wings and wind magic. I dove backwards over the cliff and nearly fell into the sharp rocks at the bottom. I pushed myself over with wind and caught myself at the last second. Pain shot through my back at the force of the stop.

I boosted myself further away from the cliff and looked over my shoulder. My face paled at the sight of Alastor growing bigger than the house. I suddenly regretted my choice to run.

I clenched my teeth and flew higher up. I was in it now. I was a Full mage. If my magic was as untamed as he claimed, that meant I was unpredictable.

Black tentacles sprouted from his back and flew at me. I barely missed the first and the second slammed painfully into my foot. I dove down then pushed myself up into the gray clouds. The night sky would help provide cover.

At least, that's what I thought before his red eyes lifted above the clouds, sending a red light across their surfaces. His pupils were a radio dial but I knew that didn't lessen his sight. His sharp teeth appeared next.

I stopped flapping and fell back through the clouds. The tentacles were still there and came at me at inhuman speed. I couldn't evade them as they slammed into my face and chest. Fire did little and they wrapped around my legs and waist within seconds. I flapped furiously and dug my claws into their squishy skin.

The tentacles pulled me back towards the house. Alastor's terrifying figure shrunk the closer the tentacles drew me in. My flailing lessened as he returned to the state I recognized.

The tentacles pulled me in faster and he stuck out his clawed hand, enclosing around my throat. The black things unwrapped from me and pulled on my wings. My feet barely touched the ground as he held me way too close to the edge. His hand was securely under my jaw and digging into my skin so I started to bleed.

"You need to accept the fact that you will never leave this place for the rest of your life," he said with radio static behind his voice. He let me down so my feet were flat on the ground but so he could tower over me. I put one hand on his wrist and the other arm across his chest to keep him away.

"I'm growing tired of your antics. These little outbursts of yours will stop today." It was more terrifying that he was smiling through his anger. I leaned away despite the sheer drop beneath me, and he only followed never more than an inch away. "If you don't want me to treat you like a caged pet, I suggest you apologize and quit it with this delusion of yours."

His smile was wide and his breath smelled like roadkill. He dug his claws further into the wound he created, making me wince. "I'm-I'm sorry." He held me over the edge for several heartbeats. Eventually he pulled me away but didn't let get off my neck.

"I never want to hear you mention anything about leaving here, again. To me or to Husker. Do you understand?"

I wanted to cough from the way he was holding me but I held it in. The tentacles were still pulling onto my wings and pulling them painfully down. My resignation made my shoulders fall. "Perfectly."

He let go. I turned to the side to cough, clutching at my bleeding neck. I felt the wounds closing but the blood was still plastered to my skin.

"Good talk." His cane appeared in one hand and he put the other behind his back. His voice sounded chipper again. "Come, dear, let's clean you up." He held his hand out towards the house, looking at me sideways. I took a deep breath and walked past. He walked close behind me.

[redfoxwritesstuff]

Power (Vox x reader) 18+

Vox x Reader Rating: Explicit 18+ Porn without plot, Power dynamics, Secretary reader, Choking on dick, Office blowjob. Summary: Vox is wound tight after his on air showdown with the newly returned Alastor. The show must go on though and you have just what he needs to get into the right headspace to move forward.

AN- A little gift for some friends because idk, I can? I'm high off attention? I don't even know anymore. Have a TV Dinner...

Join Us at VoxTek today! A discord server dedicated to Vox and the rest of the Hazbin crew.

Masterlist Kofi AO3

Your heels clicked against the polished tile floors as you approached the heavy doors of your boss’ office. The doors were intimidating to most anyone that had to approach, a sign of the power of the man inside. 

For you though, the only thing that could intimidate you was his mood though you’d never admit it. His moods shifted with the winds, endlessly volatile with a charming smile. 

He was in a foul mood tonight. Between having to clear his schedule to deal with Val’s latest bitch-fit and losing his own shit- not that he would admit to that- on a ring wide broadcast was enough to leave him sour for the day. 

Add in his little hissy fit causing a city wide power outage and having to deal with only getting a phone meeting with Carmine weapons on such short notice… he was in a state. 

The show had to go on though. Just as Val needed Vox to talk him down off the ledge, Vox needed you to bring him back to center. Technically, you were his secretary and for the most part, that was the role you filled but on occasion your tasks went above and beyond the standard secretarial duties.

But perhaps, considering the era Vox had died in, it wasn’t really so much above and beyond your job description after all.

It should have made you feel degraded. You should have raged against being put in a 1950’s stereotype of the sexy secretary. You should have pushed back against sleeping with your boss. 

But, when in Rome. 

It got you a good paycheck, a nice apartment, top quality food and the best entertainment Hell had to offer. Why pretend you were better than that when having the favor of an Overlord brought so much? Plus it got you some Earth shatteringly good sex. Or maybe Hell shatteringly was a better way to put it?

It helped that he had a sexy body and was charming, most of the time. The TV head took some getting used to though. It was cute how it digitized his expressions, broadcasting them for all to see. You couldn’t help but wonder if he had been easy to read in life as well but you’d never ask. 

You didn’t knock when you reached those heavy doors you knew so well. Instead you pulled them open without hesitation and slipped inside as if you belonged. In a way, you did.

Vox glanced over at you, eyes running up and down your figure before going back to the computer he was working at. What he did half the time, you hadn’t a clue. It was above your paygrade. 

“I’m busy, doll.” 

“And in a bad mood, too.” Your hips swayed as you walked up to his desk, unafraid.

Your skirt and blouse were tight, highlighting every asset you had. The click of your heels echoed as you drew nearer to his desk. His eyes only flickered to you as you began to circle it, running your finger tips over the smooth surface. 

You knew how this dance went. 

Rounding on him, you ran your fingers up his arm and across his tense shoulders. You were only just touching him. Fleeting glances of your fingertips teased him, making sure he knew exactly where you were and doing little else. 

“I don’t have time,” He shuddered a bit at your touch, turning to face you, “Expecting a call.”

“Not even enough time for a kiss?” You asked, using the slight opening he created between his lean torso and the hard desk to slip into his lap. Your hip banged against the edge of the desk in the process causing you to swallow a yelp. 

“Doll,” Vox signed before screwing his face up, demanding to be in charge. 

It was just another part of the game between the two of you. The power games between the two of you were what drove you to indulge is touches more often than not. It was intoxicating, having a man such as Vox bend to your touch. 

You slipped a claw tipped finger under his collar, scraping his dark blue neck as you worked it under the bowtie and pulled him to you. 

“Kiss me,” You demanded rather than asked, just how you knew he craved. 

“Baby,” Vox crumbled but you knew he would. Sure, he would bend you over, put you in your place but Vox craved having someone to serve in ways you were not sure he even was fully aware of. 

His kiss was greedy, just like he was. 

Kissing his screen face was never not weird when you thought about it for too long, but it wasn’t unpleasant. His plasma tongue sent sparks through you as as it dipped into your mouth, demanding you submit to his thin lips. He was never a slow kisser, always greedy for more and trying to take it by force. 

It was his greed that gave you power over your boss, limited though it was. 

The ringing of a call sounded through his speakers, shattering your kiss. Having his face ring was never not awkward. It was one thing when a man’s phone would ring on his desk or in his pocket but when his face was his phone? That was a whole different level of weird. 

“Gotta take this,” He sounded less sure as you shifted on his lap, feeling the hardness in his pants. 

You had hardly kissed and yet he was stiff. It didn’t surprise you in the slightest. He knew why you were sent in and you knew that. Just some more steps to the ever so addicting dance. 

“Take the call,” You said as you slipped off his lap, melting to your knees under his desk. “You don’t want to miss a chance to make a deal?” 

“What are you-?” Vox choked on his question as you palmed his crotch. 

“Take your call,” You demanded, “And if you make this deal, I’ll make you see Heaven’s Gate. Be a good boy and get your deal in motion.” 

“Fuck, Doll.” Vox tossed his call to the computer in front of him and answered, all business. 

As he began to speak as you scoot back under his desk, letting the darkness shroud you. He kept his chair leaned back, eyes on you as he ironed out details and specifics, voice full of confidence. You didn’t listen, instead deciding to put on a little show just for him. 

Fingers worked free one button after another on your blouse, slowly exposing the deep blue bra you wore. Not lace, no- you wore slick silk. Smooth, clean lines cupping your breasts and ensuring they looked their best. 

Vox was a modern man with modern tastes, even if he liked a classic scandalous preoccupation with his secretary. You tailored your undergarments to match. 

As you ran your hands over your chest and down your body his eyes followed every twitch of your fingertips. He watched you as you hiked your skirt up, bunching the clingy fabric around your hips as you showed him the matching panties, center between your legs visibly darker even in the shadows you sat in. Smooth fabric made running your hands over your moist covered slit easy. 

Vox’s cock strained against his pants as he watched you, now fully engorged. His voice never wavered though, as he did his job like the master he was. No one would ever know how distracted he was except you. 

The call was quick, over after a few minutes with a promise to send a write up of the proposal. Now it was your time to act. If you didn’t, he would take control and you didn’t want that. Right now, what you wanted was to make him mush in your hands. 

And you would. 

You climbed up on your knees, resting your head against his thigh for a moment as he carded his dangerous claws through your hair. For a moment, you indulged in the soft affection. It was the moments of soft affection, complements dished out casually that risked making you think for even a moment that this was more than just a arrangement. 

You could feel the heat of his cock, still contained but straining for freedom just in front of your face, reminding you why you were there. Reaching up, you palmed him again, feeling how much harder he was as you ran your lips along the length of his still cloth covered member. 

“Fuck, Doll, were you trying to set me up for failure?” Vox’s voice warbled out for a moment, wavering with his excitement. 

“Do you fail at anything?” You teased, leaning back to look at him as you ran your hands up and down his spread thighs, each pass taking you closer to his cock, teasing him with how you had withdrawn your touch. 

“No,” Vox said firmly, smile growing on his screen as he looked down at you fondly. 

You laughed at his arrogance, trying to put a lid on any feelings the look on his face could stir up. It was better to focus on his confidence. It was one of the traits you found so attractive about him. 

“I did promise you a reward, didn’t I?” Your fingers worked his belt open and slowly pulling the zipper of his pants down. 

You didn’t waste time in pulling him from his pants, fingers eager to wrap around his length. Just as you didn’t need to knock on his office door and wait for permission, you had blanket access to him as well. The knowledge that he wouldn’t deny you made you feel all sorts of ways. 

“Get up here,” Vox tried to demand but it sounded more like a plea.

Just how you liked it. This was what you did to such a powerful man. While you were physically on your knees for him, you he was the one who was really on the ground. 

Instead of back talking, you simply ran your tongue up the underside of his dark blue cock, taking in the salty taste of his skin. The veins were prominent and glowed ever so slightly a blue light, hardly noticeable if not for the darkness under his desk. You wouldn’t have ever considered a penis to be pretty before but Vox’s changed that. 

He had a penis that was, frankly, pretty though if you had told him that you could imagine the scoff easily. It made you crave it, crave having the weight of it in your mouth. The sight of it alone made your mouth water.

Dark blue, light glow and dusty pink at the tip. What a treat he made. You needed him in your mouth. 

He groaned as you wrapped your lips around his tip, wasting no time. Legs stretched out around you as he leaned further back in his chair. A gasping breath shuttered through him as you set to work. 

You ran your tongue over the tip, sucking softly as you looked at him. His screen was pointed down at you, eyes blazing into you. Pink tinted the blue background of his screen, seeping in from the edges, just as pink dusted the tip of his cock.

Did he know that he matched? It didn’t matter, with your mouth full you couldn’t tell him anyway. 

What mattered was the sounds falling from his mouth as you worked more of him into your mouth painfully slowly. Wrapping your fingers around his shaft, you stroked what you hadn’t taken in yet. 

It would be a matter of time before Vox got another call or someone came knocking on the office door. That was part of the excitement though. Claw tipped fingers curled, fisting in your hair as you sucked more of him into your mouth leisurely. 

You were going too fast for him, you knew that but you couldn’t help it. His strong thighs twitched and flexed under your hands as more of him disappeared into your mouth. Down you sank, one slow inch at a time until he hit the back of your throat. 

Slowly you pulled back, dancing your tongue over the sensitive underside of his cock while you did so. 

“Don’t tease me, Doll.” His fist tightened, pulling captured hair roughly in the process. 

The moan that poured up your throat and washed over his cock had him twitching on your tongue as you sank back down, pushing him as deep as you could in your current position only to slowly pull back once again.

He hated it when you teased him like this. It drove him insane. He would never admit it but you knew, he loved it. 

“Faster.” He demanded as you looked up at him, breasts moving with every deep breath you took as you licked and sucked the head of his cock as if it was a piece of candy. 

With the hand at the back of your head, he put pressure on your head in an attempt to guide you back down his shaft. That wouldn’t do.

Pulling back, you let his head fall from your lips with a pop. The pressure on you head wasn’t something you could overpower and so, you didn’t fight it after letting him free. He was unprepared as he shoved your face into his crotch. 

“Please, babydoll-”

You smiled at his words, kissing the base of his shaft only to work your way back up toward his tip.

“What do you want?” You spoke, lips moving against his shaft teasingly. His hips flexed, thrusting his spit slick cock against your mouth. 

“Stop teasing,” His breath was already coming labored, much to your delight. “Put that pretty little mouth of yours to work.” 

“But I am?” You blinked up at him, feigning innocence even as you slowly took his cock back into your mouth and bobbed on it twice. 

“Faster.” He demanded, voice not quite giving his demand the power to force you to comply. 

Again, you let it free with a pop in order to speak, “I don’t know, you didn’t make the deal.” 

“But I will,” He promised, voice straining as you stroked his chock casually. “I’ll make the deal.” 

You loved it when he got like this. Pleading. “I don’t know if that’s good enough,” Pausing, you licked and kissed his pink tinted head as you let him sit on the thought a moment longer. “You know, they had to pull me out of a meeting to come to you. That’s so inconvenient…” 

“Please,” You smiled at his word, rubbing your thighs together as he looked down at you, “Please, I’ve been good, I- Fuck.” 

You sant down his cock, raising up on your knees carefully to avoid banging your head on the solid desk above you as you adjusted your position. One deep breath and you sank lower, lower and he slipped into your throat. 

“Fuck,” He whispered as you sank as far down as you could. 

Never could you have taken all of him into your throat but you tried. For the sounds he made, you always tried. Reaching into his pants, you pulled his balls free. Rolling them in your hand, you backed up again.

“No, baby-” Vox whimpered as you kissed his head again. “Please,” 

Reaching down your body, you ran your fingers over your silk covered slit as you sank down again. Faster and faster, you bobbed along his length. The sounds he made drove you on. 

“Please,” He repeated the word and your name as he grew more desperate.

It was music to your ears. This is how you liked him, powerful and folding to you. You could taste his power on your tongue, static electricity dancing over his skin as he watched his cock disappear into your mouth again and again. 

You spread you knees, slipping your hand under the waistband of your silk panties, stuck tightly to your skin by your fluids. His pleasure was your goal. His pleasure was your job but you were not above indulging in your own as you moaned around him. 

He begged as he watched your hand pleasure yourself under the shiny blue silk. You clenched around your fingers as you dipped inside, feeling just how excited you were to be partially undressed and on your knees in Vox’s office. 

You moaned around him as you ran your fingers over your clit expertly. You knew exactly how to touch yourself. 

“Please, Babydoll,” Vox’s hips thrust forward, jabbing the head of his cock so far down your throat that you gagged on him. “Fuck, you’re so hot.”

Now was when the dance would change. Vox could only give up power for so long. He would only be weak to you for so long. 

“I’m close,” His hand ran through your hair, pulling stands away from your face and fisting again in the back. “Doll, can I?” 

Though he asked, you both knew he wasn’t really asking. Still, you moaned in approval as the coil in your core pulled tighter and tighter. Your practiced fingers paired with his moans and the way he looked at you brought you to the edge of your own orgasm. 

As your orgasm washed over you, you moaned deeply around him. That was the last thing he needed for his cock to begin twitching. You hardly had a chance to breath as his fist at the back of your head drove your head up and down his cock. His hips matched his pace. 

You could do nothing but hold onto his thigh as you rode out your high. He used your throat to chase his high until he pushed you down hard on his cock, your nose grazing the soft skin above his cock as his cum exploded down your throat. 

He thrust lazily as he rode out his high, spilling his seed on your tongue as you struggled to swallow it down. It wasn’t an offensive taste, salty and tasting like plasma. It was your turn to be greedy as you softly sucked his tip and licked his shaft clean, not wanting to waste a drop.

When the overstimulation got to him, Vox pushed you away harshly. You fell in a heap under his desk, clothes and hair a mess but satisfied smile on your face as you looked up at his blue screen.

You couldn’t read it from where you sat but you knew what those little white words along the bottom of the screen read. 

Vox had overheated and an error message proclaimed that your mouth was too good while he sat still, chest rising and falling in deep breaths you never understood how he took in that state, without a mouth on the screen. 

You may not have territory or the power to take lives. You may not be independently wealthy but you were far from powerless. 

You had the power to short circuit the reigning king of the technological sector of Pentagram City. 

[gofancyninjaworld]

OPM Manga Update 247 Review

I was puzzled as to why the translation for this was listed as a redraw, as the previous chapters had covered the entirety of the ninja arc to date before the hiatus. Then I realised that it was the numbering foolishness messing with the translators. EH! Not my problem. Shall we go on?

Summary

The chapter opens with Suiryu being discharged from hospital. He's been given a huge bouquet by the nurses and wished a speedy return to hospital, something he understandably has no plan to do. As he makes his way down the road, his attention is attracted by screaming, which turns out to be coming from a woman about to be eaten by a monster giant anteater. He splits it in half with a single chop, noting with satisfaction that his strength has returned.

He turns back to the business at hand, that of finding the Hero Association and Saitama, and is surprised that every online search for 'hero' brings up the Neo Heroes. Things have definitely changed... but he doesn't have much time to muse on it for he is nearly flattened by the enormous head of what had been a much bigger monster giant anteater. Could Saitama be out here? No, the person who'd sent the monster's head flying was an idol. She introduced herself as Webigaza, and that she was back from her hiatus to work as a Neo Hero as well as sing. She pauses to take a deep drink of water -- she's thirsty -- and then encourages people to support the Neo Heroes before flying off.

Suiryu stares after her like a cat seeing baubles hung up on a Christmas tree. Come to that, maybe he's a little thirsty too. Maybe it wouldn't be so bad to check out the opposition first... after all, he can quit right away. Elsewhere, we see an unamused Suiko surprised that her brother has discharged himself without telling her. Her concern quickly turns to outrage when she reads the note he's left for her and realises that he's stuck her with the bill.

He's just the nicest guy, isn't he?

Suiryu arrives at the Neo Hero tower and is quickly ushered into the testing facilities. With difficulty, he gets squeezed into a power suit, all while muttering to himself about how uncool it'd make him if he approached that girl looking like that.

Once on though, he feels the enormous surge of power it brings. Excited, he flexes, and the suit crumbles like a badly-baked biscuit. Worse, he now need to pay for it. Five million, which is more than the three million he earned in the Superfight.

If you break it, you've bought it. Love the detail of Suiryu flexing hard enough to break his remaining armband.

The chapter closes with a weeping Suiryu being introduced to Metal Bat. He's stuck in Neo Heroes until he can earn enough to pay off his debts.

Oh yeah, one final detail. Has McCoy handed in his notice before he started moonlighting for the Neo Heroes? He better have, the rat!

Phew, thank goodness this wasn't longer! Shall we do some meta?

Meta

We're a week on, so the outraged whines of fans expecting a showdown between Blast and Void have died down. It's totally par for the course. All I will say is this:

If you were around when this chapter (chapter 67) was first posted, you'll know that it was well over a year (in chapter 77) that we got to find out what happened.

Yup, ONE reserves the right to go 'Meanwhile...' and go somewhere else, sometimes for extended periods of time. Deal with it.

Saturation Bombing

Well, now we're back to the Neo Hero storyline, and man, when they launched, they launched HARD. They've sopped up all the SEO real estate to crowd the Hero Association off the first page of the search engines. Their TV and billboard ads are everywhere. They've even bought up the storefronts around around their headquarters. And all in the space of days. The wallets bankrolling this venture must be abyssally deep (I will return to this in a sec).

A leopard doesn't change his spots

I won't lie: Suiryu is the character I've had the most trouble seeing the point of. I've tried, but I'm still of the opinion that this lazy, feckless, superficially charming, and not-at-all-nice guy gets given way too much real estate. Well, he may be serious about wanting to be a hero but he's still as feckless as he ever was. Yes, he won a considerable sum of money just before being hospitalised and so had no chance to spend it. Yet, true to his nature, he fucks off and sticks his sister with the bill. And true to his nature, he decides to take a pass at an idol (someone who will have hell to pay if she's even thought to be dating), fully intending to cut and run as soon as he gets what he's chasing after. Well, the wheels were always going to come off sooner or later. Might as well be now. Good.

Chef's Kiss

I know that many people were a bit disturbed to find how... normal Webigaza looks but I think it's FANTASTIC. Why? Well, a slightly creepy idol isn't everyone's cup of tea, but they'd be someone's shot of whiskey, unusual and thus not interchangeable. It's a recognisable brand she'd have been able to build on. That worked *against* Webigaza's stated desperation to stand out and gain lasting fame.

Anyone into the 'creepy doll' look really, really is into it, and won't be substituting them for another.

By making her an absolutely normal-looking idol, loveable but totally replaceable, Murata has understood the brief. I can 100% believe that this Webi is desperate to be different in some lasting way when she looks exactly the same as a dozen other idols. I can 100% believe her when she's obsessed with Sweet Mask and wants what he has when she knows that the crowd that cheers for her today will cheer just as enthusiastically next year for someone who looks and sounds almost exactly like her. That she'll be forgotten despite having poured her entire life into entertaining. And that she'd rather die than see it happen.

Because she looks generic, it makes sense that she's painfully aware of how replaceable she is.

This works. This really, really works.

Let's talk cash, pt. 1: suits of contention

As many sharp-eyed readers have noticed, that suit that Suiryu got given looks awfully familiar. It's a dead ringer for the ones that Tongara's team got given by Narinki.

And once those suits hulked out...

... they looked an awful lot like the ones Hammerhead's crew got their hands on.

No prizes for guessing that this Neo Hero thing is most probably a front for one of the most successful conspiracies in fiction, The Organization. Successful because they're able to work to achieve their aims without anyone blabbing prematurely.

Let's talk cash, pt. 2: debtor's jail

It probably shouldn't surprise us too much that Suiryu is in such good shape after leaving hospital. After all, it wasn't just any hospital he went to but a Hero Hospital, a place where exceptional effort is expended in healing people rapidly. Also a very costly place, as McCoy pointed out to Mad Devil Yankee.

The drop of realism that sells the fantasy harder: yes, there's medicine and technology to heal up incredible injuries and illnesses super fast. But the price is steep!

Oh yeah, the apparent throwaway is becoming quite relevant now. I wonder if someone will point out to Suiko that joining the Hero Association would be a quick way to discharge her brother's medical debt?

I wouldn't mind this brewing Neo Hero saga to stick around a little longer. But I'm easy -- I've long since stopped expecting a particular thing to happen at a given time. All will be well in the end.

[strikersexhaver]

he got them eyes that kill AAAAHHH

Staring contests with the reader when theyre bored? Or like they do it often?

(i beg for the tension that'd def be present)

Imagine just staring at his eyes and just..omg, ty!!

(A/N) i would kill to stare at this man i stg, i would I would like- you see his pretty eyes? my god 😩

Not the longest, probably the shortest because I wasn’t fully sure how to write it-

Striker’s Eyes 🐍

Manners make it hard not to stare… Especially if he’s the most notable one to you in the room. It was hard not to, so whenever he looked at you- you turned away.

He assumed it’s because you judged him or something, or liked him. Either or, his pride got off of it.

He knows you find him attractive and loves it when you express it, it makes his pride goes sky-high and he winks at you with a tip of his hate whenever he notices you do.

He’s always known you’ve been staring at his eyes- his hypnotic green/yellow eyes that you love so much.

Whenever he makes you look at him- via raising your chin up to him- those hypnotic eyes do their charm and work so well!

Staring contests however, personally come off to him same as old-fashioned Western showdowns.

…He’s definitely practiced something like this, with how much of a cowboy lover he is.

The soundtrack of showdown playing in his head as you two stare down, made it even better for him when an actually showdown came for him.

Of course it’s not… Admittedly, the most fun thing in the world for him but it’s a little thing to pass the time.

[starsreminisce]

Some e/riels really want to make Elain the mean girl that they are

Well, here goes nothing...

Let's get one thing straight: Elain isn't going to march up to Gwyn and start a hair-pulling, milkshake-throwing, passive-aggressive showdown. Gwyn hasn't done anything to deserve that treatment. She can't help it if both Az and Nesta treat her differently from Elain. Elain's issue isn't with Gwyn. It's with Nesta. And now, we're seeing Elain push back against Nesta's overprotectiveness, especially when she volunteered to search for the trove.

Some fans seem to want Elain to become this vengeful, "mean girl" character, shedding her good-girl image to match Azriel's demeanor. But Elain's version of "mean" could cut Azriel to the core.

There's a kind of meanness that comes with laying bare someone's flaws—not to hurt, but to finally express what's been bottled up for too long. There's a meanness in honesty, too. Sometimes, you have to draw the line and speak your truth, even if it stings.

People don't suddenly grow claws. They've always been there, waiting to be wielded when necessary. And in SF, it looks like Elain's reached that point, where others are deciding her truth for her.

Sure, some fans are hoping for a Villain Elain, but it's ironic how we're demonized for standing up for ourselves or wanting to take up space. I think Elain's journey will be more about asserting herself and saying, "I need you to hear me."

But Nesta cut her off, seething at the pity about to be thrown her way. “Look who decided to grow claws after all,” she crooned. “Maybe you’ll become interesting at last, Elain.” Nesta saw the blow land, like a physical impact, in Elain’s face, her posture. No one spoke, though shadows gathered in the corners of the room, like snakes preparing to strike. Elain’s eyes brightened with pain. Something imploded in Nesta’s chest at that expression. She opened her mouth, as if it could somehow be undone. But Elain said, “I went into the Cauldron, too, you know. And itcaptured me. And yet somehow all you think of is what my trauma did to you.” Nesta blinked, everything inside her hollowing out.

Azriel struggles with criticism—we've seen it time and time again. That's why I doubt Az and Elain could work out. Elain is starting to call people out, and Az tends to freeze up when confronted. If Elain were to challenge Azriel over his objections to her searching for the trove, would it lead to a productive conversation? Their conversations could easily turn icy, as we've seen with Feyre's orders to him as his High Lady.

But there's someone who handles criticism well—or at least, better than Az.

My nails dug into my palms hard enough to hurt, but I remained seated on the bedroll as I bared my teeth at him. “And that’s why you’re here. Not because it’s right and he’s always been wrong, but just so you can get what you think you’re owed.” “She is my mate and in my enemy’s hands—” “I’ve made no secret from the start that Elain is safe and cared for.” “And I’m supposed to believe you.” “Yes,” I hissed. “You are. Because if I believed for one moment that my sisters were in danger, no High Lord or king would have kept me from going to save them.” He just shook his head, the candlelight dancing over his hair. “You have the gall to question my priorities regarding Elain—yet what was your motive where I was concerned? Did you plan to spare me from your path of destruction because of any genuine friendship, or simply for fear of what it might do to her?” I didn’t answer. “Well? What was your grand plan for me before Ianthe interfered?”

Lucien faced Feyre's accusations head-on when they clashed over priorities. He didn't deflect; he engaged. He was ready to hash it out, even when Feyre wasn't. Lucien could have abandoned her, returned to Tamlin, but he stayed. There was no bargain between them, so he had a choice—and he chose to stand by her.

I'm eager to see a showdown between Elain and Lucien about their bond. How will Lucien react when Elain claims he's entitled to her? And how will Elain respond when Lucien says he's done all he can to stay out of her life?

It promises to be a cathartic conversation, especially now that Elain's been rejected twice—presumably because of their bond.