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takumiraine · 2 days ago

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Once Upon A Time chapter 4

Danny should avoid him, because of his father. Danny should just brush him off and let him drown. Danny should keep his distance from anyone and everyone, but especially him.

Danny was never the best at doing what he should do, and worse, he was hungry.

—-

The cafe on campus was quaint, filled with light chatter and Jason was hating every second of it. Danny showed up just as he said he would, which meant he met Jason there, the man having already taken a back corner table for them. Danny walked up and set his books down. Jason had to wonder, did the kid not have a backpack?

“Any idea what you want?” Jason asked instead, standing. Danny looked over to the menu, eyes skimming it over.

“Uh… burger and fries okay?” Danny seemed uncomfortable. Jason would feel bad if it didn’t put him at the tactical advantage.

Jason nodded at his request. “The works?”

“Please.” Danny bit his lip and Jason waited, while he worked up the nerve for something, “and a coffee? Black?” Was that it? Jason almost rolled his eyes.

“Sure thing.” Jason went off to place the order and leave a hefty tip, because one, he wanted someone to bring it out and two he wasn’t that kind of asshole. He came back and sat on the chair he had been occupying, back to the corner, and resisted the urge to spread out.

Jason the Red Hood man-spreaded, Jason Todd-Wayne did not.

So he sat. And he rested his forearms on the table. “You do not need to look so nervous Danny.” Jason tried for the patented Wayne smile, certain he was coming up short.

“Huh…?” Danny turned to look at him, “oh, sorry. Long day.” The young man raked his fingers through his hair, pushing it away from his face. Jason knew it was a lie, but it seemed a familiar one. Danny tried to position himself so he could have the most visibility while drawing the least attention to himself. The position of a man hunted or used to being ambushed.

Danny refocused his attention after a moment, and looked at Jason, tilting his head slightly. “I hope it wasn’t a drain on your day to wait for me.” Jason waved his hand in response, the perfect practiced rich-bitch wave he hated.

“Nah, my friend works in the library on days when she doesn’t have class. I bothered her.” Danny seemed to relax a bit at the words.

“Oh good. I know I’m like… doing this for you, but…”

Jason cut him off there, turning the train of thought. “Speaking of, have you thought about what you want to be paid?”

“Oh… uh… not really. Most campus jobs make minimum wage right? Is that cool?” Jason wanted to throw Tim at this guy to teach him business sense in negotiation. If he really was 19, what had happened his whole life to make him feel like he needed to be invisible, while also walking away with a literal knife to the stomach and show up to class the next day?

“Most campus jobs do make minimum wage,” Jason agreed, “but nobody in my family is in the habit of paying just that. Just because I think my father is…. Well, words not fit for the polite company he insists I keep, doesn’t mean I’m going to stiff someone out of a well earned wage just to spite him. Twenty an hour is the lowest I’ll go.” He grinned now, all teeth, and something in him got a sick little thrill at watching Danny go even paler at the amount of money.

“Are you sure?” Danny asked, as their food and drinks were brought to them on a brown plastic tray.

“Say yes Dan. It’s a good deal.” Jason offered his hand to shake over the food.

Danny looked like he was offering his soul to the devil as Jason heard the man’s stomach rumble. “Okay. Yes.” Danny took his hand, and while the hand was ice cold, Danny shook with a surprisingly firm grip. Maybe the kid had a spine after all.

“Good. Now dig in,” Jason said after they parted. He picked up a fry off of his own plate and bit it, watching Danny with a sort of idle curiosity, as the boy - no, young man, went about his food with a carefully controlled gusto. Jason couldn’t help but wonder when the last time Danny ate was. He made a mental note to have Oracle check where he lived so he could do some recon later.

By the time dinner was finished, Danny seemed much more alive. His skin seemed to have better color, his eyes seemed more bright, and his energy was up. The kid was definitely going hungry if those changes were so immediate. Since Danny was scrawny, he assumed it wasn’t a new problem.

“So what makes math so difficult for you?” He asked, wiping his mouth and tilting his head. The question was blunt, but there was no open malice behind those bright blue eyes. The same kind of blue as his own when he wasn’t pit mad.

Jason shrugged. “Not really sure. It’s always been my weakest subject.” Not a lie. “Beyond money, my brain doesn’t seem to care.” Half a lie, but plays into the rags to rich bitch stereotype.

“I get that. I told you about me and literature right? For me it seems like there’s poetry in the way the math just… works.” Danny paused then, skin flushing red. “Sorry, that was…. Really stupid.”

In another life, Jason would have really liked this kid he thinks.

“No, not at all. Whoever told you your insights weren’t good obviously never stopped to listen to you.” Was he flirting? Should he be flirting? He flirted to maintain a cover or gain intel all the time. That’s all this was.

He almost missed the way Danny’s skin flushed deeper, from his ears down his neck. Almost.

“Well…. You’re in the minority then.” It came out a little bitter. He watched Danny take a breath and “Anyways.” Danny waved a hand, banishing the thought and something serious took over his expression instead. “I’m not going to take it easy on you just because you’re paying me. I expect you to put in the work too.”

Jason was right, the guy did have a spine. “Sure thing.” He waved his hand and stood, grabbing his bag and the tray. Danny stood and grabbed his books too. “Library?”

“Library.” Danny agreed.

Over the next week Jason was “surprised” to find out that they had three classes together. Math, Lit and Comp and History. All three remedial, and really the only one that Danny seemed borderline to deserve was the Introduction to Literature and Composition course. What he was genuinely surprised to find was that he enjoyed spending the combined nine hours of classes a week with the kid. Although in ‘basic mathematic principles’ Danny was quiet and allowed Jason to focus so they could work on their tutoring more effectively, in their history and English classes Danny was witty and sarcastic. A second thing he had noticed was that now that the tutoring sessions were happening, an hour, sometimes more, after every class, to make sure he ‘got it’, Danny was almost always eating.

Jason had learned that Danny’s ‘big life goal’ was a roof over his head, where his friends and family could visit or stay as they liked and room to tinker. A job that let him help people.

It was that information that made Jason fully convinced that even though he hated the Justice League with a viciousness that most rogues would balk at, for reasons he had yet to disclose, Danny was not really likely to become a rogue unless something big happened.

He should stop the college charade now. It was no longer needed for recon, and the other birds were starting to get suspicious. Bruce was looking at him differently too now. Something like how he used to.

A pen tapped on his notebook and Jason brought his attention back. Danny didn’t say anything, or even look at him, he was too busy sketching what looked like a circuit board in a secondary notebook. Jason quickly wrote down the notes before the slide changed, not looking forward to a disappointed look from his tutor.

Surprisingly, he ran into Danny as Red Hood once more that week. He was doing surveillance on a rooftop, when a sound caught his attention from the fire escape. Jason dipped back into the shadows and around the concrete and brick entrance from inside the building as a familiar mass of unruly black hair appeared and Danny hauled himself up with a surprising amount of finesse for someone who didn’t look muscular in the slightest.

“Damn it. Where’d you go guy? I thought I saw you land here.” Danny grumbled to himself, hands on his hips as he looked around “stupid not a bat disappearing just like the real ones…” While Jason was certain that he wasn’t meant to hear that, he finished his route and appeared almost behind Danny.

“What do you need?” He asked, thankful for the voice modulator as he knew Danny would have recognized his voice by now even if muffled by a helmet.

As it was, Danny startled with a yelp, swinging around and aiming a punch right for his solar plexus. Jason caught his wrist with practiced ease. “Fuck! Don’t scare a guy like that!” Danny yanked his arm back in a way that was meant to break unpracticed holds. Clever.

Jason waited while the kid caught his breath. “Well?”

“What? Oh. Uh. The guy. That…” Danny mimed the stabbing. “Is he okay?”

“Checked himself into the hospital about two hours later. He’s fine.” Oracle’s voice sounded in his ear. He nodded.

“Good, good…” Danny pushed his hair out of his eyes again, looking up at Jason through his helmet. Jason was hit with the disconcerting thought that somehow Danny was seeing through the bullet resistant one way visor. “Um… do you need the knife back? Or…. Should I….keep….it….? Or dump it? What’s…. I don’t know the protocol here, but I think ‘hey officer I was stabbed with this knife and the not-a-bat down in Crime Alley beat him up and then I accidentally stole it’ is a bad one.”

Jason snorted at the rambling, while Oracle laughed in his ear. “Even static filled he seems hilarious. I know why you like him.” He was going to kill Babs next time he saw her. “Knowing what he looks like doesn’t hurt either.”

“I can take it for you.” Jason said instead.

“Great! Wait here.” Danny turned and hopped back over the edge of the fire escape with the ease of someone who had years of training or practice.

“Is he like this all the time?” Babs asked, and Jason shrugged.

“Off and on.” Jason answered, sliding back down the fire escape completely silently as opposed to the obnoxious clatter Danny had made. He had seen and heard Danny move silently, like in the library, even on those creaky metal ladders for the top of the stacks, but he just assumed this was some sort of half assed survival mechanism.

Danny appeared again a few minutes later, with the knife wrapped in a towel in a bag. “I didn’t know how you wanted it so…” like Danny was bringing him coffee or ordering a pizza. Jason opened the bag and took the knife out, examining it.

“Good job kid. Now go home. It’s late.” It was barely ten. But he knew the Alley got more dangerous the later it got.

“Yeah. Okay.” Danny turned.

“Red Hood.”

Danny turned back. “What?”

“My name. Not-a-Bat isn’t as effective at striking fear into the enemy.”

Danny scoffed some. “I don’t need to use you as a shield.”

Jason held up the knife. Danny crossed his arms. “that was under control.”

“Right.”

“It was.”

Jason shook his head and pulled out his grapnel, firing it into the distance. As he swung off he had more questions about Danny than he was sure he would ever have answers.

#writing #fanfiction #danny fenton #danny phantom #dc x dp #dpxdc #dp x dc crossover #jason todd #red hood #batfam #dead on main

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annawayne · 1 day ago

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Hi, Ann! Hope you're having a good day. I wanted to ask—why do you think some people refuse to acknowledge that the sins of other characters in Attack on Titan are no better or worse than Annie's? Why does she seem to get more hate compared to characters like Bertholdt, Reiner, or even Eren? Annie is one of the most hated characters, along with Gabi. Do you think this could be because she's a woman? Her personality is similar to Levi's in different circumstances, yet she gets criticized heavily. People even accuse her of manipulating or bullying Mikasa. What are your thoughts?

Hello!

Oh, thank you a lot for asking! (and sorry it took me a few days to answer it)

There are a lot of wonderful metas on this topic, but I would be glad to contribute a bit with my thoughts on it as well, and thank you for the ask!

Here, a small disclaimer at the beginning: I'll talk only about my personal thoughts, focusing primarily on my reflections on why this intense hate comes from that are not related to the basic "I just don't like her" - it's all valid, and it's absolutely fine not to like a particular character just because, and it's nothing to do with plain hate.

I think that one of the main issues of Annie's hatred is not even about Annie as a character, but, unfortunately, by the way her character arc is built. We see her at the very beginning, and she is still the second-line character, even if she's EXTREMELY important to the plot. So, back then, we had her screen time, and let's be honest, not as much as I personally would love to have, primarily because she's an incredibly beautiful, interesting character with her unique points of view on the world and, as turns out later, one of the most prominent roles in the story as a whole. Still, till her reveal as Female Titan, we have some scenes with her, we have some impacts on other characters (also significant, like for Eren and Armin, for example), and then, the Female Titan arc happens and... she disappears for a VERY long period of time from the show, appearing much, much later, firstly, in flashback like a glimpse, and only then, with her whole come back during the literal apocalypse. So when the time comes to give us her backstory - I won't lie, it feels rushed, and I think, Isayma has a very great sense of self-irony when he articulates it through Hitch's mouth: "Wait, what is it a sudden sharing of your story?", all while on the background the Colossals take a march. I honestly think that Isayma also understood that it's definitely not telling enough to sympathize with Annie's character when it's presented like this (for me, personally, it was enough and I just simply would love to have more, since Annie's past in Liberio is one of the most interesting topics for me), but on the other hand, he couldn't reveal her story earlier because it would hint at her comeback FAR too obviously.

So, one of the main points is this large gap in her presence and a bit rushed exploration of her character due to the lack of time because of the situation around the characters. For example, we have a very detailed dive into Reiner's character, and still, I also feel like there's much more to explore with his character and his psycho, and what we can even say about Annie, who doesn't have such detailed exploration but has the same difficult and complex past which is undeniably important to understand not only her as a character but also more about the universe of AoT?

The next thing that plays the role here is linked to the previous one - due to the massive gap in Annie's presence in the story, many people forget many things about her. Primarily, her emotions. I think it's one of the most overlooked things regarding her character and in AoT in general. The way we see her tears IN HER TITAN FORM when she fails to capture Eren? Her tears when she was crystallizing herself? Her eyes, full of fear, when she woke up before the whole Stohess thing? Her genuine surprise, which she tried immediately to dismiss when Armin called her a good person? Her smile when Eren complimented her on her skills, which was also deleted from the anime but remains in the manga?

Here, I need to highlight an essential thing: Annie's Titan is the only Titan that is capable of showing emotions.

If we look closely, everyone else has their emotions relatively very firm, like, for example, Bert's and Armin's Colossals, caged and restricted by bones; Reiner, it looks to me, is not only the shield for others, but he's a shield from himself, completely forced to be armored in everything he feels; Lara's Titan also seems like covered in pristine white chains, and it's also interesting since she was, let's say, the shifter with a twist; Pieck's Titan also has a very permanent expression, which is compensated by her incredible endurance, just like Porco's or Ymir's Jaws lack of emotions are compensated by their mobility; Eren's Titan has always this emotion of rage as if it's the only feeling he could have going into attack. Zeke's monkey is the only other Titan with emotions, which is also intriguing.

So, back to Annie, her Titan is emotional: her tears from the failed attempt to catch Eren; like she was genuinely shocked to see people under the rubble when she fought Eren, and he threw her towards the church, leading to its crashing; like she smiled when she saw Armin under the hood; how she returned to the last battle, and how she screams in her Titan form - I genuinely here a lot of "human" in this tune, something, she doesn't allow herself in her human form. And yet, people focus a lot on the infamous "yo-yo" thing, on her battle with Levi's squad and other people, where, ironically, she attacks only when she has a direct threat to her identity or capture. If we look closely, Annie avoids fighting humans as much as possible till she's attacked directly - she runs, she screams, she tries to show off people not to touch her, and when it comes to the "fight or to lose" (which is also a remarkable parallel to Eren's character), she attacks, not to mention the obvious question - how else you act at war? Yes, back then, it wasn't something we could call like that specifically, yet she had a military mission, which, by the way, she was failing for several reasons, primarily because she's not so cold-blooded as her character is often reduced to. So, how else was she supposed to act? We don't see a lot of the same questions, for example, for Armin, who came to her hometown and blew up the port with many more casualties among civilians.

In AoT, everyone has sins. Everyone, with no exception, but Annie sometimes seems to carry the hate as if she's the typical antagonist that is supposed to be hated just because the genre demands (she's not even an antagonist either).

To sum up, Annie's character is simply very misunderstood. She's one of the most interesting characters in AoT, and I say it not because she's my fav, but primarily - she's my fav because she's much more complex than some people see her, starting from her mindset and views of the world to her development, which shows how unlovable, unwanted flower that was denied to bloom, grows through the cement and concrete, firstly, with the spikes not to let anyone close because she knows how it's to be hurt, and then, that uses these spikes, this strength to protect others and eventually leaving them be on the cold floor, and she - growing more and more into buyoant garden.

Her hands aren't without blood, and so are the others who have the same invisible tint on their skin, and yet, the same hands that only knew destruction and cold touch could also be soft and build something new, something much more powerful than her Titans kicks.

When Hitch asks her if she would do all the same, Annie says - yes, but I see it as only the mirror of Levi's "living with no regrets." Objectively speaking, Annie understands that it's impossible to turn the time back, and living among these endless what-ifs doesn't give any change - it's gone and cemented in history as it is. All these potential questions of "what would you do" are more of a mental trick to whitewash the ego. Annie doesn't do it - she understands that nothing of it was something to be proud of, and she never was, and at the same time, she doesn't know anything else. To do something differently from what point exactly? From her crystallization? Not to reveal herself earlier? Not to give Armin a chance to live twice? Not to go into the mission? Force Reiner to return? Not to listen to her father? Not to be born?

Where exactly could this point change something?

Annie doesn't lie to herself, and she doesn't look back with abstract thoughts of "How would it be," but when the time comes to actually take another action, she does it; she returns to the final battle before it becomes another "what if."

And it says more than anything else.

Annie is an honest character, primarily with herself, and she doesn't want to pretend to be better than she is. This makes her character much more human than some people try to make her look.

So, that's it!

It was quite a long read, and thank you everyone who reached this point, I appreciate your time on this!

Thank you a lot for asking, and have a good *timezone*!

#annie leonhart #annie leonhardt #attack on titan meta #attack on titan analysis #slight #aruani #attack on titan #shingeki no kyojin #answered ask #ask #I'll always defend my girl

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zyafics-recs · 3 days ago

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Another shaky breath, another splash of cold water. You didn’t have time for this. Not here, not today. There was a shoot waiting, people depending on you to be the flawless professional you always were. You could fall apart later. That would have to be enough.

why was this such a real feeling

“Good,” he said, turning his attention back to his camera. “Because the camera doesn’t lie, Y/N. Either shape up, or Chanel will find someone who will.”

oh eat shit

You pulled yourself up, the motion slow and heavy, as though your limbs were weighed down by the shame you carried.

just had to highlight what a banger line this is 🙂‍↕️

That one little word—baby—made your heart flutter and stopped your train of thought cold. You caught his eyes, trying to ignore the sudden swarm of butterflies, and arched a brow at him with a teasing smirk. “Oh, I see what this is. You just want an excuse to look at my ass. Bet you’re hoping for a little peek under my skirt, huh, you perv?”

literally their banter is insanely perfect

“I do, actually, future Ms. Cameron,” he said, glancing at you with a mischievous glint in his eyes. “As my girlfriend, you should probably let me put my arm around, or even hold my hand if we’re getting really freaky.”

he’s kinda funnyyyy

“Oh my God! I’m so sorry for coming in like that,” she shouted over the thumping bass, her voice bright and exuberant. “I was just so excited to see Rafey. I couldn’t contain my joy.”

pause

“The supermodel who fled from her country, right?” Chiara asked, her eyes wide with curiosity.

how did she know my lore

“I want him to say it,” Chiara interrupted, a challenging glint in her eye as she turned to Rafe. “Say that you two are serious, Rafe.”

not too much white girl

THE CONTRACTED HEART — Rafe Cameron (04)

MASTERLIST | Basketball Player & Model!Female Reader

Summary: Rafe Cameron, a basketball star, needs a marriage to fix his image, while Model!Reader needs one for citizenship. They may be the perfect solution for each other.

Warnings: smut, descriptions of violence, jealousy, usage of drugs, talks about body image/ed, angst, and lots of bickering. Reader is confident, a people-pleaser, has a traumatic past, and is a sunshine with an attitude. Rafe is a whore, possessive, cocky, and secretive about his past.

Word Count: 6.4k

Aliyah's Notes: i'll say it again, but specifically this chapter depicts heavy body image and ed descriptions + vomit so i beg of you to skip the beginning if you're uncomfortable with that. besides that, the chapter is cute and full of rafe and reader moments

No, no, no, no, no…

The air in the cramped bathroom felt stifling, its walls pressing close as if they could hear every breath slipping through your lips. Your phone screen glared up at you, the message burning into your mind, twisting your insides. It felt like a rope tightening around your chest, the words somehow dragging you thousands of miles back to a place you fought so hard to escape.

It was just a text. Just words. But your body reacted as if you’ve been thrown into an ice-cold river, your mind spiraling as your heartbeat thumped in your ears, louder and louder, drowning out all your sense of reason. You weren’t supposed to feel this way—not here, not anymore. You fought too hard to let a few words send you back to that place.

The text was simple, it read: "Hey, do you remember me? Just to let you know we're coming to the U.S. in a few weeks."

Your fingers, knuckles white, tightened around the phone as you tried to calm yourself. You had come so far, broken so many boundaries to make it, to have a life that was your own, that you chose. And now? Now your world felt as fragile as glass, your strength chipped away by something as simple as a message.

For years, you pushed that life aside, buried it beneath layers of success and glossy magazine covers, of flashing cameras and compliments that felt like armor. You learned to smile, to keep your chin up, to say what people wanted to hear. Y/N Y/L/N, the golden girl, they’d call you, the one with the perfect life, the charmed career. They didn’t see the cracks beneath, the memories you pushed so far down you could almost believe they’d never existed.

You missed them, sometimes. In quiet moments, when you let yourself think of them, you felt the familiar pang of loss. But you missed them on your own terms, and never to this point—never to the point of feeling that old, oppressive weight. The suffocating sense of having your every move watched, every thought scrutinized and molded into someone else’s idea of perfection. You’d broken free of those chains. Or at least you thought you had.

Your breath hitched as a tear slipped down your cheek, cold against your heated skin. You quickly wiped it away, but another followed, then another, until you were gripping the edge of the sink, trying desperately to hold yourself together. “You’re okay,” you whispered to yourself, your voice barely a breath. “You’re fine. Suck it up, come on.”

The words felt hollow, but you forced yourself to repeat them, steadying your breathing as you stared at your reflection. The woman looking back at you wasn’t the helpless girl from your past; she was someone stronger, someone who’d fought for every inch of her success. But as you brushed away the tears, you wondered just how deep those old wounds ran.

Drawing yourself up, you checked your reflection one last time, wiping away any trace of emotion from your face. Your fingers still trembled, but you forced them to steady, exhaling one last time before stepping out of the bathroom, your shoulders set with the poise you spent years perfecting.

As you walked back into the studio, the lights blinded you momentarily, the heat from the set lights prickling against your skin. The room buzzed with activity—assistants darting back and forth, stylists fussing over racks of clothing, and the low hum of the photographer’s voice directing the scene. You slipped back into your role, letting the familiar rhythm carry your as you took your place on set.

“Finally,” the photographer muttered, barely looking up from his camera. “We’re on a schedule, Y/N. I don’t have time for dramatics.” His voice was cold, clipped, as though your presence was nothing more than an inconvenience.

You clenched your jaw, brushing off the comment. Just keep your head down, and keep moving. You struck your first pose, forcing yourself to focus on the rhythm of the camera’s clicks. Each flash, each snap, pulled you farther away from your thoughts, grounding you in the present. You knew this world, knew how to inhabit the perfect persona they wanted from you. You could do this.

“Okay, chin down,” the photographer barked, barely glancing up from his lens. “More. More—there, but tighten up your core, Y/N. It’s looking a little… fat.”

The comment hit you like a slap, the faint tremble returning to your hands. You adjusted your pose, forcing yourself to stay calm. You've heard comments like this before. Your body was scrutinized in ways most people couldn’t understand, your curves debated and dissected like they belonged to someone else. You have been trained to brush it off, to smile and push through it with the poise they expected of you.

But today, after everything, the words dug a little deeper.

The photographer snapped another shot, then lowered his camera, looking you up and down with a critical eye. “You’re slipping, Y/N. You used to be skinnier. Are you having those episodes again?” He cocked an eyebrow, his tone dripping with condescension. “If you’re going to stay at the top, you have to stop whatever it is you’re doing that’s triggering you. That means discipline, diet, focus. Do you have that? Or am I wasting my time here?”

You bit down on the inside of your cheek, the words stinging sharper than you wanted to admit. You knew you gained a little weight—nothing drastic, nothing worth commenting on, but in your world, even a fraction of a change was enough to invite scrutiny. You forced yourself to hold your pose, to keep the practiced smile on your face, even as your heart pounded in your chest.

“No,” you said quietly, your voice steady but clipped. “You’re not wasting your time—I understand. I’ll keep that in mind.”

“Good,” he said, turning his attention back to his camera. “Because the camera doesn’t lie, Y/N. Either shape up, or Chanel will find someone who will.”

The ride home was a blur, the city lights streaking past the window as you sat, rigid, in the back seat of the car. Your stomach twisted painfully, a churning knot of anger, shame, and something that felt dangerously close to despair. Each time you closed your eyes, the photographer’s words replayed like a cruel loop in your mind, mocking you, unraveling every shred of confidence you’d managed to build. You’re slipping… used to be skinner…discipline, diet, focus. His voice echoed with the ghost of memories you’d focus so hard to bury.

You barely noticed when the car finally stopped. As soon as you stepped out, the familiar ache in your chest intensified, the weight of everything pressing down, suffocating. You fumbled with your keys, barely able to keep your hands steady long enough to unlock the door. Once inside, you kicked off your shoes, not even caring where they landed, and stumbled over to the couch. Every nerve in your body screamed, the urge clawing at you with a ferocity that was both frightening and familiar.

You sat there, breathing heavily, your fingers digging into the fabric of the couch as you fought to steady yourself. But the memories kept coming, one after another, tearing at you until it felt like you were drowning in them. You saw yourself, younger, lost, staring into the mirror late at night, desperate to feel in control of something—anything. The hunger, the self-loathing, the endless cycle of guilt and relief—it all rushed back with a force that stole the breath from your lungs.

It would be so easy to give in, a voice whispered in the back of your mind. Just this once. Just for tonight. You could have the relief you craved, the escape from the pressure that felt like it was suffocating you from the inside out.

No, you told yourself, clenching your fists. You’re stronger than this.

But the temptation was too strong, too insistent, and before you even realized what you were doing, you found yourself in the kitchen, stuffing your face with whatever you could find. You just needed to eat, eat, eat, and eat more. You blinked and found yourself in the bathroom, hands braced against the sink as you stared into the mirror, a tear-streaked, desperate face staring back at you. Your chest tightened as the shame washed over you, the familiar ache settling deep in your bones, dragging you down into the darkness you’d spent years trying to escape.

Your fingers brushed your throat, trembling as you fought against the impulse. You didn’t want this, not really. You knew the pain that would follow, the emptiness that would settle in your chest like a lead weight, crushing you from the inside out. But the need for control, the need for release, was stronger than you were.

As if in a trance, you gave in, the guilt and shame numbing your mind as you went through the motions, each step mechanical, devoid of thought. The feeling of release came in a rush, bringing a momentary sense of relief that quickly dissolved into nausea and self-loathing. You sank to the floor, gasping for breath, your entire body trembling as the full weight of what you’d done settled over you.

The bathroom floor was cold against your skin, grounding you in the present even as your mind spiraled, tangled in a haze of guilt and despair. You pressed your forehead to your knees, the tears coming fast and hot, unstoppable. Your chest heaved with silent sobs, each one cutting deeper than the last as you choked on the bitter taste of regret. The walls seemed to close in around you, trapping you in a prison of your own making, a prison you’d vowed to escape but somehow couldn’t.

You thought you were done with this, that you’d left this part of yourself behind. But here you were, broken and hollow, the fragile pieces of your self-control shattered beyond repair. You wanted to scream, to tear at your own skin, to do anything that would make the pain stop, even for just a moment.

“Why am I like this?” you whispered, the words barely audible through your tears.

When the tears finally slowed, you felt hollow, emptied, the relief you’d hoped for replaced by a numbness that was somehow worse. You pulled yourself up, the motion slow and heavy, as though your limbs were weighed down by the shame you carried. You splashed water on your face, watching as the streaks of mascara and foundation washed away, leaving you bare and exposed, a shadow of the person you pretended to be.

Stumbling back into the living room, you sank onto the couch, the silence of the apartment pressing in around you, thick and suffocating. Your stomach ached, a dull throb that echoed the ache in your chest, a reminder of everything you’d tried to forget. You leaned back, closing your eyes, your fingers still trembling.

The silence was shattered by the faint buzz of your phone, the sound jarring in the quiet. You opened your eyes, feeling a fresh wave of dread as you reached for it, already bracing yourself for more bad news. The screen showed a message from Rafe, sent twenty minutes ago.

Rafe: “Hey. On my way over. Be ready. We’re going out.”

Your heart skipped a beat, panic flaring in your chest as you processed the words. Rafe was coming here. He’d be here any minute, expecting you to be ready, expecting you to be fine. But you were anything but fine. The thought of facing him, of pretending everything was normal, felt like an impossible task.

You wanted to ignore it, to curl up on the couch and let the world fade away. But you knew you couldn’t. He’d see through you, he’d ask questions, and you weren’t ready for that. You weren’t ready for him to see the broken pieces.

Taking a shaky breath, you sat up, wiping the last traces of tears from your face. You couldn’t fall apart now. You’d have to pull yourself together, put on the mask he expected to see.

But as you stared at the screen, the weight of what you’d done settled over you, a cold, crushing ache that threatened to drown you all over again.

A sharp knock broke the silence, the sound slicing through the thick air of your apartment. You jolted, your heart racing as you looked toward the door.

Fuck! You hadn’t even had time to fully compose yourself.

Another knock, lighten this time, followed by his familiar voice. “Come on, open up, sweetheart,” Rafe called out, his tone easy, teasing. He was here. Of course he was here.

Forcing a deep breath, you pushed yourself up from the couch, running your hands through your hair in a last-minute attempt to look put-together. You brushed a hand over your face, trying to erase any trace of what had happened, then ran to close the door of your kitchen to hide the mess of food sprawled everywhere.

The moment you opened the door, Rafe’s eyes locked onto yours, his playful smile faltering as he took you in. The lightness in his gaze shifted, softening with a concern that made your chest tighten. You could feel his eyes sweeping over your face, catching the lingering redness around your eyes, the slight shake in your hands and naked legs, the way you wouldn’t quite meet this gaze.

“You…” he said, stepping forward as his brow furrowed. “You okay?”

You forced a smile, dismissive, brushing it off as though he hadn’t seen what he had. “I’m fine, Cameron. Just a long day, you know,” you replied, your voice steady but rough, your fingers clutching the edge of the door.

He didn’t move, his gaze unwavering as he studied you, his expression laced with worry. “Are you sure?” he asked softly, his voice careful now. “You don’t look fine. Your eyes…”

“I said I’m fine, Rafe!” you snapped, the words sharper than you’d intended, the force of them surprising you both. His brows shot up slightly, but he didn’t move, his gaze locked on yours as though he were searching for something beneath the anger.

“I’m just asking, but something’s obviously wrong. You don’t have to—”

“Why do you care?” you interrupted, your voice edged with a defensiveness you couldn’t control. “It’s none of your business, alright,” Your hands tightened into fists at your sides, the sting of tears pricking at the corners of your eyes, but you willed them back, pressing down the wave of emotion threatening to rise again. “I told you, I’m fine. Just drop it.”

The silence stretched between you, tense, your words hanging in the air like a challenge. You could see the hurt flash across his face, fleeting but unmistakable, before it softened into something closer to understanding, something that only made you feel more exposed.

“Alright,” he murmured, his tone calm, measured. He took a step back, lifting his hands slightly in surrender, his gaze lingering on you, patient, waiting. “If you say so.”

But you could see it in his eyes—he didn’t believe you, not for a second.

You stepped back, allowing him to come inside. He moved past you slowly, his gaze flicking back to you once before staying put. You headed toward the living room, and he followed you, swallowing the lingering shame in your throat as you focused on steadying your breath.

He paused near the couch, glancing around the room as though searching for a sign of what had shaken you.

“Alright, so… where exactly are we going?” you asked, aiming to keep your tone casual. Your gaze dropped to your hands, hoping to mask the slight tremor of your nerves.

Rafe glanced over, he seemed to take a moment to consider his answer, studying you as though choosing his words carefully. “One of my friends is hosting a little get-together…”

“Topper?”

“Hell nah!” He quietly laughed, shaking his head. “Not this time. It’s Kelce. He throws these gatherings sometimes—more chill than anything else. It’s just a handful of people, around a dozen or so, max. You think you’ll be okay with that?”

His gaze lingered on you, a mix of playfulness and genuine concern softening his features. You swallowed, nodding as you offered a small shrug. “Yeah, sure. That’s fine. So… just friends? Are there going to be, um… other girls?”

He tilted his head. “Yeah, some. Kiara and Cleo are usually around for these things, and…” he paused, scratching his jaw before continuing, “my sister.”

That made you look up, your curiosity piqued. “You have a sister?”

“Two actually, both younger,” he replied with a faint smile. “But only one’s coming tonight. Sarah. I think she’s around your age. You’ll probably like her. She’s… got a bit of a wild streak.”

You nodded and stayed quiet for a moment, lost in thought, before glancing back at Rafe. “So… I’ll just go get ready—wait! How should I dress up? Is it a casual-casual or a casual-but-nicely-dressed type of gathering?”

Rafe’s lips quirked into a smile, visibly relieved to see you bouncing back to your usual self. “Pretty sure, whatever you wear, you’ll make it look elegant, sweetheart.”

“That’s not helpful—but thanks.” You arched a brow at him, waiting.

"Just something simple," he replied with a shrug, leaning back on the couch. His eyes traveled over you, taking in your outfit—a pair of black shorts paired with an oversized, ripped T-shirt splashed with images of Barbie. Somehow, even in that, you looked hot, and he couldn’t help but let his gaze linger.

“Simple?” You tilted your head thoughtfully. “Like…a dress? Wait, maybe a skirt is better for this. But a dress is more of a party vibe…” you started muttering to yourself, lost in wardrobe decisions. “Should I wear something with prints? Oh, wait—”

“Just wear a skirt, baby,” he cut in smoothly, his gaze softening as he watched you.

Rafe’s smirk grew, and he sat up, his blue eyes gleaming with something undeniably mischievous. “I’ll see your ass at some point during this marriage, whether it’s tonight or some other night,” he replied, his gaze unwavering. “Got you speechless now, huh?”

You rolled your eyes, pretending his words hadn’t just lit a spark that was still buzzing beneath your skin. “No, actually, I was just thinking of all the ways I could strangle you.”

“Kinky,” he teased, eyes alight with amusement.

You groaned, chuckling despite yourself. “Not like that, you perv.” You waved your hand dismissively, shaking your head. “Enough of this. I’m gonna go get ready.”

Before you turned, he grinned and made a move to get up. “Can I come and watch the show?”

You placed a firm hand on his shoulder, pushing him back down with a laugh. “Absolutely not. Stay here and be patient. I won’t be long.”

Rafe relaxed, settling back with a smirk as he watched you disappear into your bedroom, and you made sure to close the door firmly behind you.

You emerge from the bedroom an hour later, dressed in a strapless leopard-print tube top that clings to your figure just right, paired with a faded denim mini-skirt. For makeup, you opted for a natural look with a subtle glow, focusing on your lips, and you left your curls loose, letting them fall naturally over your shoulders, once again.

You walked into the hallway, slipping on your black Louboutin stilettos. As you straightened, you didn’t need to look back to know Rafe was right there, his presence a steady hum in the quiet of your apartment. You’d heard his soft footsteps the second you stepped into the hallway.

"You—"

"Watch what you’re about to say, Cameron," you cut him off, throwing a teasing glance over your shoulder, "because if it’s about my ass, I’ll slap you so hard you’ll fly out the window."

His smirk widened. "Now, I wasn’t gonna say anything like that," He let his gaze travel up and down your figure, lingering on the way your fitted mini skirt hugged your curves. "But since you brought it up—yeah, it’s the perfect opportunity to take a peek. Especially with you bent over and all."

You straightened up, narrowing your eyes at him, though a faint smile tugged at your lips. "Rafe."

He raised his hands, palms out. "Alright, alright—my bad." He let his eyes travel over you one more time, this time slower, more appreciative. "But you look nice."

"Just nice?" you teased, tilting your head slightly as you stepped closer, noting the way his eyes darkened as he drank you in.

"No..." His voice dropped, his eyes turning hungry as they lingered on you. "You look hot. Really hot."

You felt a satisfied smile spread across your face. "Perfect. That’s exactly what I was going for."

"Well, you succeeded, sweetheart," he replied, voice thick with an admiration that felt too close for comfort.

You smiled, pushing down the heat rising to your cheeks, and made your way to the door, pulling it open. Rafe followed close behind, stepping into the hallway as you both moved toward the elevator.

"So," you asked as you pressed the elevator button, "do your friends know about the arrangement, or…?"

Rafe shook his head, popping the 'P' as he answered, "Nope. None of them have a clue. Not my teammates, not my sister—nobody. So you’re gonna have to pretend to tolerate me for a few hours. Think you can handle that?"

You tilted your head, your smile turning sly. "Tolerate you? For a few hours? I mean, it’s gonna be a challenge, but I think I can manage.”

“Is that so? Gonna be that hard to put up with me?”

“I wasn’t gonna say anything, in fear to hurt your poor feelings but you are extremely annoying and hard to put up with, Rafe Cameron,” you shot back, your eyes sparkling.

“Ouch,” he touched his heart and mocked a pained expression. “You’re hurting your husband’s feelings here, sweetheart.”

“Future husband,” you corrected with a smirk. “And, womp womp!”

The elevator reached the lobby, and the two of you stepped out, making your way toward the exit. Rafe opened the door for you, his hand resting briefly on the small of your back, sending a shiver up your spine.

Outside, his car was waiting, sleek and polished under the streetlights. He held the passenger door open, and you slipped inside, watching as he rounded the front and got in beside you.

The car ride was quieter than you expected. He seemed content, one hand on the steering wheel, the other resting casually near the gearshift. You stole a few glances at him as he drove, catching the glint in his eye as he noticed you looking.

Finally, he spoke up. "You know, if you’re gonna be my girlfriend for the night, you’ll have to act the part."

"What do you mean?"

He smirked, shifting gears smoothly as he turned onto a quieter road. “Maybe try not to glare at me every time I look at you. Oh, and try smiling, or I don’t know, pretend like you don’t find me annoying.”

You couldn’t help but laugh. "Noted. You have some more notes, Mr. Cameron?"

You raised an eyebrow, a playful smirk dancing on your lips. “Oh, yeah ‘cause touching your hand will make me nut, right?”

He chuckled, glancing over you, his expression full of amusement. “I mean, that’s usually how most people feel—but more seriously, we need to make this believable. The whole world has to think we’re in love.”

You scoffed, crossing your arms over your chest. "And here I thought this was a marriage of convenience. You know, strictly business. But since we’re giving notes then I think you should show a little more enthusiasm."

He chuckled, shaking his head as he navigated the streets. "Alright, I can do enthusiasm. How about I serenade you while I drive?"

"Oh my God! Please don’t," you laughed, shaking your head. "I’d like to keep my hearing intact."

"Suit yourself." Rafe grinned, glancing at you with a mock-seriousness. "But if I can’t sing, then I have to hold your hand. That’s the rule."

You hesitated, your heart racing at the idea of intertwining his fingers with yours. “Fine…”

He raised his hand triumphantly, a playful smirk plastered across his face. "See? You’re already getting into the spirit of things. Besides, it’s not like our lips haven’t touched—"

“Rafe!” you exclaimed, slapping his chest with a mix of disbelief and embarrassment.

“What? I’m just stating the truth,” he said, feigning innocence as he rubbed his chest, an exaggerated pout forming on his lips. “Come on, don’t get shy on me now, baby.”

“I am not shy,” you retorted, unable to suppress a smile.

“Right, and I’m the bloody king of England,” he shot back with a horrible fake British accent.

“Shut up,” you laughed, the sound echoing softly in the quiet of the car as you shook your head at his antics.

The banter hung in the air between you like a playful thread. You both lapsed into a comfortable silence, the gentle hum of the engine and the occasional rush of wind outside the car providing a soothing backdrop. As the minutes passed, anticipation buzzed in the air, making each second feel charged with excitement.

Finally, you pulled up in front of a large, ornate gate guarded by stern-looking security personnel. Rafe, unable to contain himself, leaned forward and called out his name with exaggerated bravado, “Rafe Cameron!” The gates swung open, revealing a huge house with lights everywhere.

As he parked the car, you took a moment to steady your breathing, inhaling deeply to calm the flutter of nerves in your stomach. With a final exhale, you opened the door and stepped out onto the pavement. Before you stood three familiar faces, their expressions a mix of anticipation and curiosity as they waited at the door of the house.

You glanced at Rafe, who had just stepped out to join you, his presence exuding a quiet confidence that somehow eased your tension. The way he stood beside you, relaxed yet alert, made you feel a little more at ease.

“Am I dreaming, or are there three people waiting for us—and they’re jumping?” you asked, barely able to contain your laughter as you watched the trio bouncing in place, their enthusiasm infectious.

Rafe chuckled, shaking his head in amusement. “You’re not dreaming. The idiots over there are my sister, JJ, and Topper.”

“Oh, I know Topper!” you exclaimed, a spark of excitement igniting in your voice. The prospect of recognizing someone made the moment feel a bit more comfortable.

“Yeah, you do, sweetheart,” Rafe replied, a playful smirk tugging at the corners of his mouth. His eyes glinted with warmth.

As you approached the animated group, the sounds of their laughter filled the air, creating a vibrant atmosphere that made your heart race with anticipation. Rafe walked beside you.

Topper was the first to spot you, his face lighting up with a broad grin as he waved. “Love birds! Over here!” he shouted, bouncing on his feet, you could tell he was slightly tipsy already.

JJ turned at the sound of his voice, his expression shifting from casual to surprise when he caught sight of you two. “What the fuck? Rafe is here with a girl—isn’t that—”

“That’s Y/N! What the actual fuck, Rafe?” Sarah exclaimed, her voice rising in disbelief as she slapped JJ’s chest, the surprise evident in her wide eyes.

As you stepped into view, the weight of their stares sent a wave of nerves crashing over you, and suddenly, the words you’d rehearsed vanished from your mind. It was ridiculous—usually, you were the life of the party, friendly and extroverted. Why were you feeling so overwhelmed now?

“Hi,” you managed to say, cringing at the awkwardness of it. A rush of heat crept up your neck as you mentally kicked yourself for being so inarticulate.

“Hi, pretty girl,” JJ chimed, his grin infectious. “Now that Y/N and her boyfriend have arrived, the party can officially start!” He turned and bolted into the house with an enthusiastic shout, followed closely by Topper, leaving you alone with the Cameron siblings.

Turning your attention back to Sarah, you took a moment to admire her outfit—a stunning black leather dress that hugged her curves perfectly, her makeup expertly applied to accentuate her striking features. She radiated confidence.

“I’ve seen stuff about you two on social media, but I didn’t expect you to actually bring her here—respectfully, of course,” Sarah said, her gaze flicking to you as she finished her sentence and you simply shrugged. “This is a first for you, Rafe,” she continued, raising an eyebrow at her brother.

“I’m serious about her, so get ready to see her everywhere by my side,” Rafe replied casually, but the warmth of his words sent your cheeks aflame. “Are you the only girl here—”

“I love your dress, by the way. I don’t know if I said that already ‘cause I’m pretty tipsy, but I love it. Leopard prints suit you so well! Every time you wear animal prints on the runway, I’m always so in love with how it fits you. Oh, and I heard you’re working with Chanel right now—is that true? You can tell me; I promise I won’t spill. Plus, I’ll probably forget about it by tomorrow anyway—”

Rafe, clearly exasperated, swiftly placed a hand over her mouth. “Don’t say weird shit like that, stalker. You’re creeping my girlfriend out.”

You couldn’t help but laugh softly, placing a hand on Rafe’s shoulder. “No, it’s fine.”

“You sure? Because she really sounded like a fucking creep,” he said, feigning seriousness, but you could see the hint of amusement in his eyes.

“Guess that runs in the family,” you teased, lifting yourself on your tiptoes to lean closer and whisper in Rafe’s ear, the warmth of his body radiating against you. “But thank you, Sarah. I was going to say the same about you and your dress. It fits your body like crazy; I’m honestly jealous.”

“Girl, please. Have you seen yourself?” she scoffed, her confidence shining through.

“I have, but have you seen yourself? You’re stunning, like a goddess.”

“Oh my God—”

“Alright, enough with the glazing,” Rafe interrupted, a mock-seriousness creeping into his tone. Sarah shot him an annoyed glare, which you mirrored, both of you momentarily united in your frustration. “I introduced her to you, but there are other people who don’t know she’s here, so get out of the way, Sarah.”

With that, he gently nudged her aside, his protective demeanor hinting at how much he cared, even amidst the playful banter. You couldn’t help but smile at the way he navigated the room with ease, leading you into the chaos of the party.

The room was awash in vibrant colors, illuminated by twinkling lights strung overhead. A long table was set up against one wall, laden with an enticing spread of snacks and alcoholic drinks that sparkled enticingly under the glow. The atmosphere buzzed with energy; laughter and music melded together in a lively symphony. Groups of people swayed on the dance floor, while others engaged in animated conversations or indulged in the delicious food. Rafe was right—though the crowd wasn’t particularly large, the energy was palpable, and the music was loud enough to make your heart race.

You gently tapped Rafe’s arm to get his attention, and he leaned down slightly to hear you over the din. “We’re not gonna go to each person to introduce myself, are we?”

“Hell no! Just my close friends—” he started, but his words were cut off as someone unexpectedly leapt into his arms, wrapping their limbs around his neck with abandon. Rafe staggered slightly, instinctively holding the person tight to steady them both. Your brows knitted together in confusion and irritation as you wondered who would be so brazen as to interrupt a conversation. The person had clearly come from the front, meaning they’d seen you two talking moments before.

Fucking prick, you cursed internally at the bold interloper.

When the person turned around, you found yourself face-to-face with a woman who had long, straight brown hair that cascaded over her shoulders. Her cheerful smile faltered briefly upon noticing you, but it returned almost instantly, though you could sense the shift in her demeanor.

“Oh my God! I’m so sorry for coming in like that,” she shouted over the thumping bass, her voice bright and exuberant. “I was just so excited to see Rafey. I couldn’t contain my joy.”

You waved your hands dismissively, plastering on a friendly smile, trying to keep the peace. “It’s totally fine, don’t worry. I get it.”

“I’m Chiara, by the way. Chiara Romano,” she introduced herself, extending a hand for you to shake. You accepted, noting the warmth of her grip.

“That’s a pretty name,” you said sincerely, your tone genuine. “I’m Y/N Y/L/N.”

“The supermodel who fled from her country, right?” Chiara asked, her eyes wide with curiosity.

You scratched your cheek, a touch of embarrassment creeping in. “Well, not exactly, but yeah… that’s me.”

“Well, nice to meet you, Y/N,” she said with a bright smile before turning her attention back to Rafe, suddenly snatching his arm and tugging at him playfully. “Come with me, Rafey.”

Rafe, who had been uncharacteristically silent during the exchange, finally spoke, his tone firm. “Wait! No, Chiara.”

“Why? It’s gonna be fun—” she retorted, but Rafe’s tone shifted to a more serious note.

“I’m here with Y/N,” he said firmly, the protectiveness in his voice undeniable. Chiara halted her playful tugging, her expression shifting as she turned her full attention to you. “She’s my girlfriend.”

“Oh…” she said, her brows raised in surprise as she studied you intently. “Are you two serious, or not?”

You frowned, taken aback by the bluntness of her question. You knew Rafe had a reputation for jumping from one woman to the next, but he had just referred to you as his girlfriend with such conviction. That had to mean something, right? You couldn’t help but wonder what Chiara would have done if you had said no.

“We’re se—” you started, but your voice faltered.

“I want him to say it,” Chiara interrupted, a challenging glint in her eye as she turned to Rafe. “Say that you two are serious, Rafe.”

The air grew thick with anticipation as you awaited his response. The weight of the moment felt significant; this wasn’t just a casual interaction—it was a test of the fragile foundation of your arrangement. Rafe’s eyes darted between you and Chiara, a mix of uncertainty and determination swirling in them. You held your breath, knowing that you needed him to affirm the seriousness of your relationship, even if it was just for show. Rafe couldn’t afford to slip up, not when so much was at stake. You watched him struggle with the words, a silent plea hanging in the air as he held Chiara’s gaze, and you braced yourself for what would come next.

Who the fuck was Chiara Romano to Rafe Cameron?

chapter five

#rafe cameron (by @ keziah)#rafe cameron series #rafe cameron (by @aliyahwritings)

807 notes · View notes

amethystwrytes · 3 days ago

Text

Safe (Part Seven)

Pairing: Hwang Hyunjin X Fem. Reader X Lee Minho

Summary: A broke ER Nurse offers up her services to a large crime organization in exchange for much higher pay and benefits that are unconventional, but lucrative. The life proves to be questionable at best, and downright isolating at worst which leaves her feeling unsure, unstable and dangerous.

Warnings: Explicit language. Explicit depictions of sex (some chapters will be more explicit than others sexually). Violence. Blood. Trauma injuries. (Organized) Crime. Emotional manipulation. Discussion of murder and physical assault. Medical inaccuracy galore. Smoking. Past addiction. 18+ Only MDNI.

Chapter WC: 3.5K

~ Part Seven ~ (Series M. List Here)

Two vibrant, undeniably visible pink lines scream at you from the bathroom countertop.

“What does it say?” Seungmin hobbles up behind you.

“Get out! God, you fucking leech! I’m literally staring at a plastic stick dripping with my piss here, can I get a minute to myself?!” you scream and shove him out the door, he stumbles back and hits the opposite wall with a thud as you slam and lock the bathroom door.

“I guess I’ll take that as a positive then!” he yells, “Hormonal asshole! I’ve just been shot in the leg today, no big deal!” you hear him hobble back down the hallway.

Actually it’s a double positive, since you’ve taken two tests. One might be a dud, right? It happens. It’s possible. You, as a nurse, had personally never seen a false positive on a pregnancy test, but you hear things, right? It’s happened. So you squeezed out a little more pee for test #2, after all, that’s probably why they give you two in a box anyhow. Yet even with barely enough urine to soak the stupid scratchy tip of the test, the lines were so clearly there that you had no choice but to believe them.

“Fuck.”

The word comes out in a choked sob as you sit back down on the toilet, your face in your hands.

How? You are a fucking nurse. How did you let this happen?

Working at the hospital had always had its perks, like how you could just drop into gynecology, sign a paper, and have the nurse give you your shot, most of the time it was someone you knew and were friendly with. It was convenient, it was easy, you were able to do it on your breaks for goodness sake. You never made an appointment or anything, so there wouldn’t be any kind of reminder from the office to come back to stay on schedule. Evidently you were the type of person who needed them though, because here you sit on a toilet, in a house that doesn’t belong to you, pregnant with…

With whose fucking child? You laugh, audibly laugh, and it slowly turns into sobs. You don’t even know who the father is. Hyunjin? Minho? One of them, obviously. You’ve been fucking them both longer than six weeks, which is what you put yourself at if you’re getting nauseous and vomiting. Of course you can’t know for certain, that will have to be confirmed at an obstetrics appointment, which you will now have to go to, routinely.

The words abortion, adoption flash in your mind. You did not plan this, you did not want this. Yet even as you sit here, drops of pee all over the place, sobbing into your hands, you can’t quite seem to change the “did not want” to “do not want” in your head.

“I do not want this,” you say it out loud, because maybe you just need to audibly hear yourself say it, but it comes out as a complete and utter lie. You feel in your very heart that it’s a lie.

“I want this,” you whisper, the ghost of a smile spreading across your lips, and suddenly the scared and ugly tears are replaced with a sense of overwhelming excitement. “I want this.”

You clean up the bathroom and roll up the pregnancy tests in a paper towel, you have no idea why you feel like saving them, but you roll them up anyway.

When you walk back into the kitchen Seungmin is sitting at the table, his bandaged leg propped up on a chair, “Well?”

“I’m pregnant,” you state, shocked at your own calmness, picking up your supplies from patching him up earlier to put them back where they belong.

“Shit,” he whistles low, “Well what are you going to do?” he asks.

“Have a baby, Seungmin, that’s what I’m going to do.”

“Do you really think-...”

“What I really think is you should shut your mouth, because you have absolutely zero fucking opinions that matter regarding this, do you want to try me Kim Seungmin? I dare you.”

“No ma’am.”

“Good then.”

🗡��🗡️🗡️🗡️🗡️

When Minho, Hyunjin and Jisung walk through your door later that evening your very blood turns to ice; an indescribable feeling of excitement, fear, elation and dread consuming your every fiber.

“How’s the leg?” Hyunjin asks Seungmin, smacking the back of his shoulder.

“It’s uh,” he looks at you nervously which causes the other three men to look at you as well, “It’s fine. Doc here stitched me up.” Smooth Seungmin, smooth as silk you fucking twat.

“Did you all get into a wrestling match or something? What’s with the vibes?” Jisung teases.

“Nothing,” Seungmin answers too fast, “take me home Han, can I get some pain meds or something?” he looks in your general direction but refuses to make eye contact with you.

“Already sorted them out,” you say pointedly, sliding a little bag across the table, “don’t take them all at once, that would be a pity.”

He sneers at you then stands up, hobbling towards the door, “Han. Now.”

Jisung closes the refrigerator he was about to descend upon and scurries over, “Shit, okay.”

You watch as the two of them disappear and close the door. You can feel Minho and Hyunjin staring you down.

“Did he say something to you again? Because if so we can drag his ass back in here and set it straight,” Minho asks.

“No,” you shake your head and sit down, “No, he just knows something that you don’t,” you look up at him, terrified of how the next few minutes will play out. Wondering if you shouldn’t bring it up right now, but knowing you’ve said too much not to at this point.

“What would that be?” Minho frowns.

“I found out today…” your voice waivers which only seems to concern both men more.

“Found what out, sweetheart?” Hyunjin sits next to you, his fingers caressing your forearm.

You pick a spot on the table to look at, because you can’t bring yourself to look at either of them, “I’m pregnant.”

Silence. Well, the only sound is Minho pulling out the other dining chair for himself, probably so he doesn’t collapse where he stands.

The three of you sit there for several moments in just total and complete silence. The hum of the ceiling fan sounding more and more like nails on a chalkboard with every passing second.

“What do you want to do, baby?” it’s Hyunjin that speaks first, and you can tell that he is trying to keep any emotion from his expression, but you can’t tell if he’s hiding a reaction that’s good or bad.

“I want,” you exhale slowly, “I am going to be a mother, I will not abort this pregnancy, I do not want to talk about adoption. I will not discuss either, and I don’t want to hear it.”

At this Minho stiffens, his face contorting into something between disgust and hurt, “___, baby, I would never ask you to do something you didn’t want…we…Hyunjin and I…” he stops talking and chuckles.

“How do we want to do this?” he looks at you and Hyunjin. You know what he’s really asking is what the fuck is the plan on raising a baby with three parents? but you also don’t have an answer to that.

“Let’s please not worry or talk about that right now,” you laugh painfully, “I can’t deal with that part right now. Obviously one of you…you know…impregnated me,” you clear your throat, “but there’s no way for me to know who at this point, not without a DNA test and honestly…I love both of you so I just don’t think I want to know, does that make sense?”

“Makes sense to me,” Hyunjin smiles and effectively ends that part of the discussion, “We’re having a baby?” his voice drips with elation and every muscle in your body relaxes.

You nod, happy tears brimming your lids, “Yes.”

“We’re having a baby,” Minho laughs, and you’re surprised to see tears in his eyes as well.

🗡️🗡️🗡️🗡️🗡️

“You know,” you sit at the bathroom vanity applying your moisturizer when Minho steps out of the shower, “I was terrified to tell you.”

“Me specifically?” he points to his naked chest.

“Honestly? Yes…”

Minho nods and gnaws at his lip, “I guess I deserve that, but I promised you I’d never give you another reason to be scared of me, and I meant it - you never have to be scared of me baby.”

“I wasn’t scared that you’d be mad at me, I don’t think, I guess I just thought you’d be upset at the idea of having a child. We are not a traditional couple in any way shape or form, so we’ve not really talked about traditional things, like marriage or babies or futures. I didn’t know what you wanted for your life, I still don’t I suppose,” you explain.

He sits next to you on the bench, “Seola…” his voice cracks at the mention of his late wife's name, “she wanted children, she wanted to be a mother,” he covers his mouth with his hand and squeezes his eyes shut, tears roll down his cheeks and you throw your arms around him.

“I am so sorry,” you sob with him, “I’m so sorry you lost her, lost your life with her, a future with her. Minho, I’m so sorry.”

He cries into the small of your neck for a moment before taking a deep breath and righting himself.

“When the words first came out of your mouth, I felt so guilty, because all I could think about was how she was robbed of that moment, that moment she would get to tell me she was pregnant, but I was so happy anyway, happy without her - it doesn’t seem fair, or right.”

“It’s not,” you cup his face, “It is not fair.”

“I was always undecided,” he sniffs, “Part of me, of course, adores the thought of having a son or daughter to raise, to love, someone who can become my whole world and someone to leave a legacy to but then I look around, at the guns, at the murder - is that really what I want to leave anyone with, let alone someone I love so much? Which actually,” he sighs, “Actually that brings me to something I’ve been thinking about the past couple hours.”

“What?”

“I own lots of properties, here in the city and surrounding areas primarily, some are safe houses, some are renters for additional income, but there’s one property, one that absolutely no other soul on Earth knows I own, it’s a last resort - my ‘absolutely have exhausted all options and efforts’ backup - located in Applecross, Scotland,-”

“Scotland?” you snort, “That is the most random thing I’ve ever heard come out of your mouth. I don’t think I’ve ever once heard you utter the word Scotland,” you chuckle.

“There’s a reason for that, and now you’re the only other person who knows I own a house there,” he says, an uneasy expression on his face.

“Why are you telling me?”

“Because I want you to go there, you can take Hyunjin with you if you want, and when all this shit is over I’ll come join you - we can have the baby there, and someday when the dust settles we can come back here, but you’ll be safer-”

“No,” you shake your head.

“You won’t even hear me out?” he argues.

“No, I won’t, I’m not going anywhere, not without you, I won’t,” you look at him, fighting back tears.

“But you’ll be safe there,” he continues.

“Physically? Maybe, but my heart will break if I can’t see you, if I don’t know what’s happening here, happening to you. I will spend every moment miserable and I don’t want it,” you tell him seriously. “No. I will not go.”

“Fine, okay,” he nods, pushing his wet hair back out of his face. “I’m not going to argue with the mother of my child,” he smirks, “but promise me that you’ll think about it, it really is a lovely location - a little foggy - but if things get too heated here, please remember what I’ve said.”

“I will keep it in the back of my mind, but I’m not going anywhere without you,” you lean over and kiss his lips.

“I love you,” he whispers against your mouth, “I love you so much.” His hand finds purchase on your stomach, his fingers fanning out across, “I’m so happy for us.”

Hyunjin is relaxed on a chair, doodling in his sketchbook when you and Minho emerge from the master bath.

You frown, “Why are you not in your pajamas? Are you working tonight…again?”

Hyunjin sets the book down, “I am. Changbin, Felix and I have a meeting with one of Parks guys, they have some intel on the storehouse Jeongin and Seungmin scouted. Park has dabbled in Taehyungs heroin deals in the past, he’s had guys in the building, we’re going to try and map it out so we know exactly where we’re going the night it all goes down,” he explains with a yawn.

“You’re all so tired,” you shake your head, “I worry about your clarity.”

“Don’t worry baby,” he scoots to the edge of the chair, nuzzling his nose against your belly, “Tonight will be friendly, we’ll play cards and smoke and talk, I’ll try to draw out a map based on the information, no danger, promise.”

“When do you have to leave?” you ask, glancing at the wall clock, just after 10:30pm.

“Hmm, probably around midnight, that’s usually when they all meet up at their little club house,” he chuckles, “Why?”

You grin, biting at your lip as you pull the ribbon on your bathrobe, slowly exposing your nudity underneath.

“I have been insatiably horny the past few days, I guess I know why now,” you giggle, “unfortunately the horniness seems to be constantly competing with unimaginable nausea, but as of this moment, guess who isn’t nauseous?”

Minho licks his lips and stands behind you, tugging at the opening of the robe, helping it fall gently down your shoulders and arms.

Hyunjin smiles, dropping to his knees and lifting one of your legs up to rest on the chair he was previously sat on, “I can’t imagine what you’re going through baby,” he whispers, his lips ghosting over the flesh of your inner thigh, leaving goosebumps.

“Let’s take special care of our girl,” Minho says, his lips on the shell of your ear, his delicate fingers gently massaging your breasts.

“I like the sound of that,” you chuckle.

Hyunjin uses his fingers to spread you open, placing a gentle kiss against your clit and your head rolls back, resting on Minhos shoulder as you let out a soft breath.

“Fuck,” Minhos voice is raspy and dark in your ear, “I love watching him eat you out, it’s so fucking hot.”

“Mmm,” is all you can muster as an agreement.

Hyunjin is being soft tonight, delicate, savoring. You can feel yourself practically dripping around his tongue, his lips. Your eyes close, the sound of his soft kisses and wet licks consuming you, your need to orgasm so heavy that it aches. It’s his little whimper into your pussy that pushes you over the edge, poor Minho takes the brunt of your full weight as you dig your fingers into Hyunjins scalp, riding out your high on his face.

Hyunjin stands, pressing himself, with his hard erection against your front, capturing your mouth with his sopping wet lips. You can feel Minho stroking your hair, his cock pressed against your backside. You turn around to face him, gently pushing him back onto the bed behind.

He shimmies out of his pants before scooting back onto the pillows as you crawl over him, dipping your head down to kiss trails up his thighs. His hard length throbbing, tip dark and waiting eagerly for relief. You spit, his eyes widening as he watches your saliva drip down his shaft before you take it into your fist and pump, causing his head to fall back onto the pillows while you work him slowly.

Meanwhile, you feel Hyunjin behind you, his hips rutting against your backside, seeking permission to fill you from behind, which you’re more than happy to give.

“Hard or soft baby?” Hyunjin rasps, straining against you.

“Soft and slow, and deep,” you reply. You sink your mouth onto Minhos cock as Hyunjin pushes into you, inciting a collective moan from each of you simultaneously.

If someone had asked you where you thought you’d end up when you agreed to work for Lee Minho, you could’ve given so many answers. I’ll end up rich. I’ll end up in jail. I’ll end up living comfortably for the first time in my life. I’ll end up dead. The list of possible answers was long. However, I’ll end up in a state of complete euphoric pleasure, wedged between two men I love, one of which being the biological father to my unborn child, was never, ever something you’d think of, or even dream up for that matter.

You barely register Hyunjin groggily getting out of the bed to retreat to the bathroom for a quick wash before venturing off to map out drug houses and smoke cigarettes over cards. The warmth of Minhos body has you cocooned in a heavy blanket of peacefulness, his fingers gently scratching against your scalp. Your eyes are so heavy you don’t even attempt to open them. If you could bottle this moment, retreat back to it anytime you feel afraid or anxious, you would do it in a heartbeat.

“Love you guys,” you hear Hyunjin whisper as he heads out the bedroom door.

“Love you too,” Minho responds for the both of you, you’re too tired to speak, but you drift off with a smile on your lips.

🗡️🗡️🗡️🗡️🗡️

You sleep late and wake up feeling better than you have in several days, though the nausea is there, bubbling under the surface. You decide to make some lemon ginger tea, and get up to do just that. You’ve got things to do today, like try and find an OBGYN who doesn’t know who you are for starters. You plan to set up a space in the kitchen to do some investigating over your tea.

In your kitchen however, sits Hyunjin, Minho, Felix and Changbin, all looking smug and happy with themselves.

“Did I miss something?” you wonder as you retrieve the items you need for the tea.

“Parks guy was more than helpful,” Hyunjin smiles, “He had pictures of the warehouse on his phone, we’ve got everything. Room by room.”

“That’s good?”

Minho grins, “It’s great baby. Not only are we going to get my fucking guns back, but I’m going to burn his shit to the ground, every ounce of Heroin he’s got is going to go up in flames. Let’s try and watch him replace that.”

“What happens after that?” you ask, a nervous feeling in your stomach.

“What happens after that is this shit between Kim Taehyung and I ends, for good.”

Endnotes:

This is an extremely trying and scary time for women right now, and I want to make it very clear that I am 100% Pro-Choice 100% of the time. For the sake of this story, my OC is choosing to continue her pregnancy, but there is no deeper meaning or message that I'm trying to send by writing it that way, and given the current state of things, I personally needed people reading this to know that.

This is a shorter chapter because for me this is a very transitional chapter as we prepare to dive a little deeper into the heavier criminal aspects of the story. I wanted to obvs confirm OC's pregnancy since I left Ch. 6 off with a very "is she/isn't she?" type deal. I also wanted to establish Minho and Hyunjins attitude about it all. Some of you may have anticipated our Minho to go completely off the deep end, but in the end, I just didn't want him to be like that. Anyway, now that I've rambled, as usual here's your virtual smooch and I'll tag my beautiful taglist besties in the replies bc that is so much easier for me. Thanks for being kind and patient while I went through my little dark period. 🫂💜

#skz fanfiction #hyunjin fanfiction #lee minho fanfiction #skz romance #lee know romance #hyunjin romance #skz smut #hyunjin smut #lee minho smut #hwang hyunjin #Lee Minho

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adoresia · 2 days ago

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── .✦ 𝐈𝐌𝐏𝐔𝐋𝐒𝐈𝐕𝐄 𝐃𝐄𝐒𝐈𝐑𝐄𝐒

⌗ PAIRING : Yuji Itadori x Blackfem!Reader

⌗ SYNOPSIS : Yuji Itadori has a brilliant idea: sneak off campus for a “stress-free” day of fun. The problem? His version of sneaky involves flailing like a bird, tripping over rocks, and nearly concussing himself twice. Somehow, you still agree to go with him because he’s charming, stupidly cute, and you might be a little in love with him.

⌗ CW : Fluff, humor with a sprinkle of chaos, Minor injuries (Yuji being clumsy as usual), Slight rule-breaking (sneaking off campus), Heavy doses of secondhand embarrassment, suggestive (One intense makeout session at the end)

⌗ Sia here ! : based off of this request 😚 thank you so much for requesting anon i hope you enjoy :3

It started, like most things with Yuji, absolute chaos and impulsivity.

You had been sitting on the training field, bored per usual, flipping through a textbook while Yuji lay sprawled out in the grass, fiddling with a twig zoned out and in his own world, you could say. His restless energy was almost contagious, and you could feel him gearing up to say something impulsive—his knee was bouncing, his fingers twitching. It’s like you could tell he was going to say something silly, but he’s literally yuji. Everything that comes out of his mouth is silly to be honest.

You were staring at him intensively, trying to figure out what he was going to blurt out, but it’s he’s always unpredictable and his twisted face wasn’t helping. It felt like hours went by before he finally opened his mouth to blurt out :

“Let’s sneak out!”

You blinked at him. “I beg your finest?”

Is he silly? What did you even expect from him at this point.

“Let’s sneak off campus!” He sat up like he just figured out the cure to cancer, the twig discarded in favor ultimately snapping him out of his zoned out state. “C’mon, don’t tell me you don’t wanna get out of here for a bit. Just you and me—no Gojo, no missions, no… I dunno, scary cursed wombs or whatever.”

You deadpanned. “Should I slap you? So we can both get caught? I’d rather follow the rules then have Gojo sensei peaking at us with his 6 eyes for the rest of my life.”

“Rules,” he said, waving his hand dismissively. “Rules are for, like, boring people. Are you boring?”

“Should I slap you times 2?” you shot back, offended.

“I’m gonna take that as a no for my own safety.” He said reluctantly while he hopped to his feet and pulled you up with him. “I promise you’ll live, let’s go cmon.”

“No, I actually won’t. We’ll get caught and it’ll most likely be because of you not gonna lie.”

“Okay not I’m offended I’m actually really stealthy if I do say so myself. We won’t get caught if we’re sneaky,” Yuji said, and the mischievous twinkle in his eye told you he was already planning the heist of the century. “Think about it: fresh air, food that doesn’t taste like Gojo’s questionable cooking experiments, freedom.”

You crossed your arms, trying to look unimpressed. “And how do you think we’re getting past Gojo?”

“I’ll think of something,” he said confidently. “He’s probably watching an 4 hour long mukbang compilation or annoying Nanami—his guard’ll be down!”

To be honest it did convince you to an extent, Gojo could watch those compliations for hours on end, not even one of his 6 eyes could divert his attention. Which gave you both time to go and come back without him even realising.

You sighed, shaking your head. “And why exactly should I go along with this?”

Yuji paused, then stepped closer, his grin softening into something a little more persuasive. “Because I want to spend time with you,” he said, his voice warm and sincere. “Just us. No interruptions, no stress. You deserve that, y’know?”

Your resolve wavered instantly. He always knew exactly what to say to get you to drop your guard, and you hated how good he was at it.

“You’re such a manipulator,” you grumbled, though your lips twitched with a reluctant smile.

“Not manipulator—genius,” he corrected, pulling you toward the school gates before you could change your mind.

“Wait, you don’t even have a plan yet!” you protested, digging your heels in.

“Details, details,” Yuji said, brushing it off. “We’ll figure it out as we go!”

The plan was simple: sneak past Gojo’s barely-there supervision, hop the school wall, and spend a rare afternoon of freedom exploring the city. But nothing with Yuji Itadori was ever simple.

Thirty minutes later, you were crouched behind a bush, watching Yuji attempt to sneak past Gojo’s vaguely occupied form. He had, of course, decided that flailing like a bird was an acceptable stealth tactic, and you couldn’t stop yourself from laughing as he tripped over a random rock, landing face-first in the grass.

You clamped a hand over your mouth to stifle the laugh bubbling up, your shoulders shaking with the effort. Yuji popped his head up, blades of grass stuck in his hair, and shot you an exaggerated glare.

“You’re not helping,” he hissed, his voice somewhere between a whisper and a whine.

“Sorry but what are you even doing, you look like those inflatable tube men placed in front of gas stations,” you whispered back, biting your lip to keep from cackling outright.

“First of all, it was a hawk,” he corrected, brushing himself off as he crouched again. “Second of all, you could show a little support for your partner in crime, y’know! Im signaling stealth!”

“That’s not stealth, Yuji. That’s a mating dance.” You deadpanned.

“I really don’t know how we haven’t got caught because of you yet,” you muttered, shaking your head as he resumed his ridiculous flailing.

Somehow—maybe because Gojo was too busy scrolling through mukbang videos on his phone to care—you both managed to make it past the gates. As soon as you were clear, Yuji grabbed your hand and took off running, pulling you along like an excited kid.

“See?” he said, grinning over his shoulder. “Flawless execution.”

“Bro thinks he’s yeat.” you replied, rolling your eyes.

“Would you prefer if I started screaming fein?,” he said, squeezing your hand.

“Enough.” You rolled your eyes again.

You rolled your eyes and darted across the courtyard, leaving him behind. His dramatic gasp of betrayal carried all the way to the gate.

Step two: jump the wall.

“Are you sure this is a good idea?” Yuji whispered nervously, glancing over his shoulder like Gojo might materialize out of thin air. “What if—”

“You’re a jujutsu sorcerer, Yuji,” you teased. “And also, this was your idea. What did you make this decision unconsciously? Or are you just scared of a wall?”

“I’m scared of Gojo.”

Fair.

Still, you hopped onto the wall with practiced ease, sitting on the edge to look down at him. Yuji hesitated for a moment before launching himself up with impressive force—and smacking his forehead against the top of the wall.

You burst into laughter so loud it almost echoed across campus.

“Ow! Don’t laugh!” He held his head dramatically, pretending to stagger. “I think I’m seeing the afterlife!”

“Get up here, you idiot.” You reached down to grab his hand and pulled him up. For a moment, you both perched precariously on the wall, faces inches apart. Yuji smiled at you—soft, goofy, and heart-melting. But also half concussed.

Then he promptly lost his balance and fell, unsurprisingly.

You gasped as Yuji disappeared from sight, a loud thud and an even louder groan echoing from the other side of the wall.

“Yuji!” You peeked over, half-panicked but mostly exasperated, only to find him sprawled on the ground, arms and legs splayed like a starfish.

He cracked one eye open, grinning weakly. “I’m okay!”

“You fell,” you said, staring at him incredulously.

“Did it look cool?”

“No, it didn’t.”

He sat up, rubbing the back of his head with a sheepish laugh. “Well, that’s disappointing. I thought for sure the landing would redeem me.”

“Redeem you?” you said, hopping down much more gracefully. “Brother, you hit your head twice today. Do you even have a brain left?”

“Bold of you to assume there was much to begin with,” he quipped, flashing you that dumb, lopsided grin that somehow managed to melt your frustration every time.

You offered your hand, hauling him to his feet. “If you die from being clumsy, I’m never letting you live it down.”

He dusted himself off, still smiling. “Good thing I have you to keep me alive, huh?”

You sighed, shaking your head but smiling despite yourself. “You’re lucky you’re cute.”

“Aw, you think I’m cute?” His grin widened, and he puffed out his chest dramatically. “Admit it, you can’t resist me.”

“I take it back. I can resist just fine,” you shot back, starting to walk down the path. “But if you trip again, I’m leaving you behind.”

“Harsh,” he muttered, jogging to catch up with you.

As the two of you made your way down the hill, Yuji slipped his hand into yours again, lacing your fingers together. You glanced at him, eyebrows raised, and he shrugged with a cheeky grin.

“For balance,” he said.

“Yeah okay Yuji, just say you’re scared,” you replied, but you didn’t let go.

After Yuji’s not-so-graceful landing, you spent the next few hours wandering the city. You hit a record shop, shared a crepe at a food stand, and found yourselves laughing until your sides hurt in a Photo Booth.

“Why do my eyes look like that?” Yuji asked, squinting at one of the printed photos.

“What do you mean? They always look like that.”

“I look like I’m about to swallow you with my eyes?”

“Okay that’s an exaggeration. You look like a goldfish at most.”

“Like a very cute goldfish,” you teased, poking his cheek.

He puffed it out dramatically. “Well, you look like—”

“I know you don’t have much brain left, but think twice before you say something that might end up in you loosing your head,” you warned, narrowing your eyes.

“An angel,” he finished, grinning sheepishly.

Eventually, you found a quiet park, the golden glow of the setting sun painting the sky. The laughter had faded into something softer, more intimate, as you sat side by side on the swings.

Yuji was quiet for a moment before glancing at you. “Hey…”

“Hm?”

“I’m glad we did this.” His voice was sincere, and his eyes sparkled in the warm light. “I know it’s risky, but… I just wanted some time with you. Like, normal, everyday time. No curses, no missions. Just us.”

Your chest tightened at the sweetness in his words. “Me too, Yuji. Maybe we should break the rules more often.”

“Yeah?” He answered, his eyes were filled with something more desired than love.

He smiled, his hand brushing against yours on the swing chain. The touch sent a pleasant shiver up your spine, and when you turned to look at him, you could see the hint of nervousness in his expression.

“Can I—uh…” He scratched the back of his neck, the tips of his ears pink.

You leaned over and kissed him, cutting off his adorable stammering.

The first press of your lips was gentle, tentative. But when Yuji’s hands found your waist, pulling you closer, the kiss deepened. He kissed you like he had been waiting forever, like every moment he had spent apart from you led up to this. His lips were soft but insistent, moving with an intoxicating rhythm that left you breathless.

Your fingers tangled in his pink hair, and he made a small sound against your mouth—a mix of surprise and eagerness that made your heart race.

“Is this okay?” he murmured, his forehead resting against yours for a brief pause.

“More than okay,” you whispered, pulling him back in.

The world seemed to fade away as his kisses became more fervent, his grip on your waist tightening like he never wanted to let go. Your back pressed against the cool metal of the swing, his body shielding you from the cooling breeze as his lips trailed along your jawline, then back to your mouth.

“Yuji,” you murmured between kisses, your voice barely audible.

“Yeah?” he asked breathlessly, pulling back just enough to meet your gaze. His cheeks were flushed, his smile lopsided and utterly disarming.

“You’re terrible at sneaking out,” you teased, brushing your thumb over his cheek.

He laughed, resting his forehead against yours again. “And yet, totally worth it.”

You couldn’t help but agree.

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totallyjustabunchofhocuspocus · 2 days ago

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Fic: Something to Sink Your Teeth Into 25/?

Pairing: Buck/Tommy

Vampire/Witch!AU

Read on AO3 (current chapter)

Read on AO3 (from beginning)

Tommy knew he should be more worried than he was.

He could almost hear Sal screaming at him that he was being an idiot, could picture Lucy’s disappointed face as she asked him what the hell he was thinking.

He’d known Evan was a powerful witch, even taking his banishment into account. That had been obvious from the start. But Evan had admitted that there was more to it than just the fact that he was from an old and powerful coven line. He was quite literally twice as powerful as any of the other witches in his coven—had absorbed his brother’s magic in a ritual that was so forbidden, the few people who knew about it thought it would destroy their entire coven if it got out that Evan’s parents had used it.

Mmhmm, the scary powerful witch whose family obviously knows how to use dark magic, who you just watched thrall three vampires at once, says he cast a spell when he was ten that just happened to link you two together. That doesn’t sound fucking suspicious to you, Tommy boy?!

Even in Tommy’s head, Sal was kind of an asshole.

But he wouldn’t necessarily be wrong in wanting Tommy to be suspicious. It was suspicious. He’d be a fool not to be suspicious…and Tommy had not lived as long as he had by being a fool. And yet…

And yet.

The fear in Evan’s eyes, the horrified regret—Tommy didn’t think Evan could have been faking that. There had been no lie in his heartbeat, only dread and panic.

He stood there, his hand resting on Evan’s chest, right over the thickened, pink skin of a scar that was identical to the one that Tommy had carried on his body since he was human. Evan couldn’t have known that. There was no way Evan could have known that. His witch’s skin was surprisingly smooth and soft, so warm that it made Tommy’s teeth ache anew, even with the power of more of Evan’s blood coursing through him. Evan was staring at him with a beautiful, aching trust in his eyes, a hint of disbelief in them, as though he still couldn’t understand why Tommy wasn’t running away from this. Away from him.

How long had it been since Evan had someone he could trust in his life? How long had it been since anyone had stood by his side the way Tommy so desperately wanted to?

Feeling the gentle rise and fall of his witch’s chest, listening to the conviction in his words when he promised that he belonged to Tommy just as much as Tommy belonged to him, Tommy found he didn’t care if it was a spell that had brought him to this point. The path didn’t matter if the destination was this: this man, looking at him like Tommy was something wonderful, something that he wanted and treasured; this man, giving himself over to Tommy, and taking all that Tommy offered in return. His witch—perfect for him in every way. His beautiful, beautiful witch—who he was perfect for.

His every instinct had been screaming at him to protect this man, stay by this man’s side, and never let anything separate them from the moment he’d laid eyes on him. It was madness. It was stupidity. It was dangerous.

Or perhaps it was just his body and heart recognizing what his mind hadn’t realized at the time.

He splayed his hand more firmly across the scar that bound them, that marked them as belonging to each other, his other hand coming up to cradle his witch’s jaw.

The kiss was sweeter this time, less hungry, less hurried. Evan met him halfway, his lips parting with a sigh as he reached up to sling his arm around Tommy’s neck, pulling them closer. Tommy swore he could feel the connection between them, a tether binding them together, a tie that was always going to bring Evan here, to him.

To where he belonged.

To where they belonged.

He was tempted to just sling his arm around Evan’s waist and hoist him over to the bed…spend the next few hours exploring his witch the way he wanted to, get his hands and tongue and teeth all over every part of Evan until he knew him the way he craved. But no. No. Reluctantly, he pulled back, smiling when Evan chased his lips with an audible whine.

“The hell you stopping for?” Evan panted, his pupils blown wide, his cheeks flushed delightfully pink.

“Cause like hell is the first time I get to do everything I want to you going to be in a cheap motel while people are trying to kill us.”

Evan pouted. Honest-to-God pouted. “I’ve had worse.”

Tommy had to kiss him again, though he kept it short and chaste. “You deserve better.”

The look of surprise that flashed across Evan’s face before it settled into something unbearably soft made Tommy’s heart hurt a little. But then he let his head fall back against the wall behind him with a soft thump. “Well…okay then, guess we better both fucking live through this.”

Evan smirked at him as he slid his hand out from under his witch’s shirt and stepped back, clearly seeing how difficult it was for Tommy to do so. He sobered quickly, though, running a hand through his hair as he walked over to the table and scooped the ledger he’d found in Greenway’s house up. “We should probably see if there’s anything we can use in this,” he said.

Tommy settled on the end of the bed as Evan sat down at the table. “Are you sure you don’t want to lie down for a little while? I can go through that while you sleep.”

Evan shrugged one shoulder. “I don’t actually feel that bad,” he said, a faintly puzzled frown furrowing his brow before it disappeared. “I mean—I’m going to need food soon, but other than that I think I’m good for a while.”

“All right, but let me know,” Tommy conceded. He was still concerned about the amount of magic Evan had been wielding, not to mention the (mild, admittedly) blood loss, but if his witch said he was all right, there was no reason to doubt him.

Evan hummed in acknowledgment, cocking his head to one side as he ran his fingers around the edges of the ledger, murmuring a spell. His fingers glowed with white light and lines of magic suddenly ran across the cover of the book in fractal patterns, like cracking ice.

“What was that?”

“Locking hex,” Evan answered absently. “Pretty good one—but those don’t really hold up well after the witch that set them dies. Covens used to use them to keep other witches from going through our spellbooks…but it would kind of suck if Grandpa dying meant no one could access the family spells and history.”

The ledger fell open in Evan’s hands and he set it out on the table in front of him, tilting it so that Tommy could see better. The first few pages appeared to be some kind of journal dated from several years ago—mostly Greenway detailing his training with his familiar, Victor. Evan’s eyebrow twitched upwards as he skimmed a couple of entries. “Huh. His familiar was old…I didn’t realize.”

“Howie’s never mentioned anything about the other familiars in his coven,” Tommy said. “Is that why Greenway knew how to hide all these things in the between?”

“Probably. Like I said, most witches only learn how to do the basics with it these days, but if your familiar is at least a few hundred years old, you probably know a lot more.”

“How old was your familiar?” he asked curiously. “Grant’s owl was talking like it was ancient.”

Evan did not look up from the ledger, but Tommy saw his shoulders tense. Instantly, he wanted to call the question back. Stupid. Of course that would be a sore spot—the bond between witches and their familiars went deeper than almost anything. Losing his connection to his familiar when he was banished must have been like losing a part of his soul. Even flipped to the next page, running his finger down the center of the page as he skimmed the words for anything useful.

“Sally—uh, Sally’s been part of my family’s coven since about the 1700’s. But she’s older than that. Her original coven was wiped out in the Annihilation.”

Tommy froze at that, his eyes going wide. “I’m sorry, your familiar was around during the Annihilation?”

The Annihilation was a series of coven wars that had erupted all over the world in the early 1600’s, the last conflict of which hadn’t died down until nearly a hundred years later. It had been the most intense period of fighting between vampires and witches for centuries before and in all the centuries since. The Annihilation was the reason vampires as old as Sal and Alonzo were unusual and vampires as old as Tommy and Gerrard were nearly unheard of. Vampires and witches, already declining in numbers due to the rise of human populations, had been in real danger of being wiped out entirely toward the tail end of the conflicts.

Tommy had spent most of the period drifting from coven to coven—helping where he could, but mostly trying to avoid the worst of the fighting. He’d gotten his fill of war in his centuries under the bastard’s thumb…he’d had no desire to embroil himself in more conflict. It had been during his efforts to keep moving and stay out of the hotbeds of conflict that he had first met and formed a friendship with Sal.

Evan nodded slowly, and suddenly a great deal about his magic and the way he used it made a lot more sense to Tommy.

“That’s—wow,” he said. Evan’s lips quirked into a smile that looked a little broken around the edges.

“My parents didn’t want to let me train with a familiar. It happens sometimes, but usually only if the unbonded witch isn’t showing very much potential. I don’t know how they were planning to hide…well…me. But after the, uh, the finding spell—Sally asked to train me. Well. I say asked. More like told my parents that she was taking me as her witch.”

Tommy wasn’t an expert on witch coven politics, but he couldn’t imagine that anyone would have been able to refuse a survivor of the Annihilation without a damn good reason. He wondered what this Sally had thought of what Evan’s parents had done to him and his brother—Evan made it sound like members of their coven had helped them cover it up, but they wouldn’t have been able to hide the amount of Evan was in possession of from his familiar.

He hoped she had been as disgusted as Tommy was.

He hoped his witch had had someone besides his sister solidly in his corner growing up.

“Okay, that’s it for the journal entries…the last one stops right after he joined Grant’s coven? Nothing that’ll help that I saw.” Evan flipped through a few more pages, before pausing and resting his finger in the center of a page that was seemingly blank except for a date an a set of initials at the top. “Hang on.”

“What?” Tommy asked, leaning forward. When he did, the shift in angle let him see a faint shimmer on the page.

“There’s something…” Evan said, narrowing his eyes as he tapped his finger against the page three times and said a spellword. The page shimmered again, the white light of witch magic glowing around the edges.

Hello? Sorry, can you help me? A young woman’s voice suddenly sounded in the room, clear enough that it was like she was speaking right next to Tommy. He startled, looking around wildly, but of course there was no one there. I’m from the temp agency on 12th—I’m supposed to be on housekeeping tonight? They didn’t…wait…wait, stop! Let go—let go!

The woman’s voice rose into a scream of pain and terror, and Tommy leapt to his feet. “What the fuck is that?” he demanded.

Evan looked faintly sick. He flipped to another page and snapped the same spellword, tapping his finger on the page again.

Hey are you Diego? I’m Aaron…yeah, from the temp agency. A male voice this time, one that sounded about Evan’s age. I mean, I’m down for whatever, but Mr. Greenway said it was just clerical w—

This one cut off with a cry of surprise and terrible, wet gurgling sound that Tommy was all too familiar with.

“Oh my God,” Evan whispered. Hesitantly he pointed to the initials in the corner of this page: AF.

He flipped to the next page and they listened to a girl that couldn’t have been older than eighteen or nineteen singing softly to herself before it was cut off with another horrible scream.

A man cried out brokenly for his mother before his voice cut off mid-word.

A woman begged for her life, crying out that she was pregnant, please, her baby…

Evan looked like he was going to be sick at that one, tears rising in his eyes, and Tommy finally reached over and took the book from his hands. Evan didn’t resist.

Tommy counted the pages with the strange shimmer and the initials in the corners. Eight more. Thirteen total witches that had come to Jonah Greenway for help, come to him hoping to find work for whatever reason. Thirteen witches that he’d betrayed, sending them to meet their ends on the fangs of a vampire.

“He was watching them die,” Evan choked out finally. “This spell, it’s like a walkie-talkie. You, you, you cast it on something that someone’s carrying and it records them, sends the sounds back to you. You learn how to do it when you’re a fucking kid. It’s a game. It—it was a fucking game to him.”

“Ortiz has been feeding her people witch blood for months,” Tommy realized. “Damn it. Alonzo and Mehta couldn’t figure out why so many smaller covens were folding in with her so quickly. But if she was promising access to witch blood…”

“And they’d have been motivated to keep it a secret from other vampires that hadn’t joined her,” Evan finished dully. “Meanwhile witches are going missing—but Greenway was specifically working with witches who were trying to leave their covens or their families.”

“So, they probably weren’t telling anyone their plans. Or where they were going to find work. Fuck.” A sudden dread seized Tommy, and he flipped past the last spelled page. He clenched his teeth, and knew his eyes were flaring scarlet. This page looked the same as the others, but there was no shimmer of magic to indicate that Greenway’s fucking souvenir had been recorded yet.

Right there at the top of the page.

A growl ripped out of Tommy’s throat, and Evan turned startled eyes onto him. They skated down to the page he was looking at, and Evan gasped. “He…he knew who I was?!”

A good question, but Tommy couldn’t get past the initials glaring up at him from the page. Greenway had written Evan’s initials in the corner of that page, intending to record his witch’s final moments like a goddamn signature in a yearbook. He’d probably spelled something on the temp agency uniform that Evan had been wearing so he’d be able to hear when the vampires at Gerrard’s part fell on Evan. Something to look back on and enjoy like it was a fond memory. His witch. Fuck.

If Greenway wasn’t dead already, Tommy would have made it a priority to rip his fucking throat out.

“Okay,” Evan said shakily. “Okay, whoa, put the fangs away, there. He’s…he’s dead Tommy. He can’t—he can’t hurt anyone anymore.”

Tommy reached for his witch, closing his hand around Evan’s wrist and tugging him to come sit on the end of the bed beside him. He pressed his fingers against the throb of Evan’s pulse, right above the makeshift bandage where he knew the marks from his bite were. He needed to feel his witch’s heartbeat, needed his witch here and close, filling his senses. Greenway’s plan hadn’t worked. Evan was here. He was here and safe and Tommy was going to make sure he stayed that way.

No matter what.

* * *

Evan thought he might throw up.

His head was spinning, the final words of the other witches that had been working with Greenway—so many witches—echoing in his ears long after the phantom screams of the mimic spell faded. Evan had almost been one of them. If his vampire had not followed him when he tried to convince Max to leave that godforsaken party, if Tommy hadn’t trusted the inexplicable pull of the spell that Evan now knew bound them together…Evan would have died there. He’d known that, of course, but looking at Greenway’s ledger fucking commemorating all the witches he’d helped kill, it all felt so much more sinister. Greenway really had planned his death.

Had planned all those witches’ deaths.

Only his vampire’s sure touch on his arm, Tommy’s fingers curling over his pulsepoint, holding him like he needed proof that Evan was still here, kept him from spiraling out of control. His magic pulsed through him, wild and shifting, searching for an outlet in response to his seesawing emotions. It was harder to clamp down on than it had been in months, surging through him in waves that felt stronger than they had in a long time. He twisted his wrist slightly, shifting Tommy’s hand so he could grasp it in his own.

“Is there anything else that can help Chimney and Grant? Grant will be able to confirm that all the spells cast on the book were Greenway’s…but that doesn’t nail anything to the vampires,” he said, taking a deep, steadying breath.

Tommy, his eyes still sheened faintly red, flicked through the last several pages in the ledger pausing at a page near the end where a series of numbers similar to the spreadsheet they had found on Greenway’s flash drive had been written. At the top of the page was a row of numbers that was too short to be a routing or account number. Beneath it was a series of letters. Tommy narrowed his eyes and hummed thoughtfully.

“That,” he said, indicating the rows, “might be a cypher key. Or a password.”

“Didn’t Chimney say there were still a bunch of encrypted files on the drive?” Evan asked hopefully. Tommy drew his hand up to his mouth to kiss the back of it before letting go to pull his phone out of his pocket.

“Let’s hope so,” he said, opening his camera and snapping a couple pictures. Then he scrolled to his contacts and selected the one marked ‘Howie.’

While the phone rang, Evan leaned tiredly against his vampire, tucking his head against Tommy’s neck. He still didn’t feel as bad as he had expected to after using a control hex, especially letting Tommy drink from him again, too. His magic still hummed steadily through him, though, and while he certainly wouldn’t say no to a nap and something to eat, it wasn’t a pressing need yet. It was confusing him greatly…but he couldn’t afford to look a gift horse in the mouth.

When the crash did come, though, he was probably going to be down for a while. Hopefully he could last until they were in a safer location.

The call connected on the second ring, and Chimney’s voice came over the line. The other witch sounded a little breathless, as though he’d just been running. “Tommy, man, please tell me you have good news,” he said, a little frantically.

“I don’t know if it’s good,” Tommy said, his voice terse, “but we found something at Greenway’s house.”

“Wait, what? Athena and Bobby searched Jonah’s house top to bottom.”

“Evan found something in the between.”

“Wait, he told you about the between?” Chimney sounded shocked, but then he sighed. “Whatever. Never mind. What did you find?”

Tommy shot Evan a loaded look. “A ledger. I’m texting you come pictures right now—I think Greenway might have written his passcode down in it. And it looks like there’s more financials.”

“Oh thank fuck,” Chimney breathed. “That’s great!”

“Howie,” Tommy sighed, dropping his head so that it rested on top of Evan’s. “Listen. There were a bunch of spelled pages in the ledger. Evan opened them? I dunno if that’s the right term…”

“There were mimic bursts spelled into the pages,” Evan interrupted. He licked his lips, closing his eyes briefly. “I wasn’t the only witch Greenway turned over to vampires. He’s been doing it for months. He, uh, I’m sorry, he recorded—it’s bad. Really bad,” he finished clumsily.

There was silence on the other end, and then he heard Chimney swear softly. “All right, not dealing with that right now. Fuck. Athena’s meeting her contact on the SoCal high coven tonight. If it’s safe, we’ll set up somewhere to meet and you can bring the ledger to us. Hopefully the pages you texted are useful. Just…I dunno, keep doing what you’re doing. Just stay ahead of things. At least another day.”

Evan wanted to groan out loud at that, but he felt Tommy nod seriously. Then his vampire cleared his throat. “Will do. Stay safe, Howie.”

“You too, man. Uh…both of you.” With that, Chimney disconnected the call.

They sat in silence for a few heartbeats, before Tommy gently disengaged from him and got up. He moved over to the window and carefully edged the blinds aside, nodding to himself when he was met with the dusky purple of twilight. “We should get out of here—I’ll be fine just to get out to the car in this.”

Evan nodded and gathered the ledger back up. As soon as he touched it, though, he felt a tingle over the back of his neck. His magic prickled, swirling through him agitatedly. He frowned, focusing on the feeling, his magic surging through him. The ledger felt…different somehow. He could sense the remains of the locking hex he’d broken, could sense the echoes of the mimic spell. But there was something else—something fainter and more ephemeral.

“Evan?” Tommy asked in concern. Evan narrowed his eyes, staring down at the ledger in his hands and letting his magic wash through him. It almost felt like—

Evan sucked in a breath, his eyes flying to his vampire. He leaped up. “Now,” he barked, rushing forward and grabbing Tommy’s hand. “Now, we have to go. Now!”

#911 abc #911 tv show #evan buckley #evan buck buckley #bucktommy #tommy kinard #buck x tommy #kinley #tevan #tevan fic #mywriting #shameless self promotion #bucktommy fic #firepilot #firebeast

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silentgravesdontexist · 4 hours ago

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It has taken me a while to read this fic since I really wanted to sit down and give it a good read rather than just skimming through it.

To anyone who hasn't read it yet— there will be some spoilers under the cut:

*deep breaths*

This made me feel as though I'm grieving.

To grieve for someone that's still alive yet now far out of your reach. To grieve for a love that can no longer be. To grieve for a life that could've been if fate had been kinder. And to grieve for the regrets over decisions we believe to be the best one.

After reading the fic, I just had the urge to lie down in bed and stare at the ceiling while listening to a depressing song...

Ohhh, I do kinda wanna comment that I liked the way you formatted it in a dialogue - inner thoughts - dialogue kind of vibe. It gave off this feeling that lets the readers know about the contrast to what the character feels and what they are saying.

The way I could literally feel the yearning, anguish, and greed from Suguru is just gut-wretching. It's in the knowledge that it's time to let go while still feeling that greed even then. And the way you wrote how he copes is just chef's kiss. Immaculate.

Also, I have the inexplicable need to grab a pen/highlighter to annotate this part:

The boy with a silver spoon has become a man with a gilded tongue.

(Note: I really do mean everything that I said. It felt...human to me. I'm not really sure how to expound on that so take it as you will but positively! Just didn't want you to think I'm gassing you up or smth with flowery words and such.)

canon au. cult leader!geto x f!reader. | word count: 762, reading time: 3 minutes.

“Did I ever matter to you, Suguru?”

In a different life, the fact you’ve even asked would have crushed the man standing next to you. In this imaginary reality, he’d ask how he could show you differently that he cares. He would reaffirm that the attention you spent almost a year of your life extending to him was worth it and helped him through the worst times he has ever experienced, but in this one he knows better.

It doesn’t matter if you did or not. His feelings won’t change the fact you will never be his, your noble choice to do good far more important to you than any lingering feelings you may have for him.

“No, I guess you didn’t.”

The words taste worse across his tongue than any curse he’s ever ingested. He’s a liar, damned to hell for more reasons than just dishonesty, but he has to finally let you go; to let you walk back into a crowded club with tears blurring your vision because his words cut to your core. You told him years ago you fear being forgettable, someone people can let go of without a second thought, and it’s the sharpest knife he can press into you in some ill guided attempt to get the last word.

“I’m glad to finally know.”

A chance encounter in a club closes out a chapter in your life you thought you’d stay suspended in forever and your stomach turns, your hands idly resting at your sides while your thoughts race. From “does your boyfriend know you’re out dressed like that?” to turning your head with a grin that swiftly fell as you weaved through the thick crowd to end up out here.

You sniffle and what’s left of his heart breaks, wondering for a moment if he can’t take it back. If he can’t replicate the grin of his former best friend, jovial and wide enough that you believe he’s joking. He could toss you a sardonic, bitter chuckle and you’d roll your eyes but who would it help?

It’s not like you’re going to return to him, it’s not like he can undo this.

“Thank you for being honest,” you mutter quietly before turning on your heel to leave.

Words sit heavily in his mouth but they disappear with each step you take, putting distance between the two of you before you glance over your shoulder. He’ll try not to remember the look in your eyes while they dance over the entirety of his form as though they’re seeing who he really is for the first time.

He’ll fail and it’s why he accepts that tonight you’ll return to Satoru, begging for affirmation that you aren’t as worthless as you feel and he’ll almost certainly give it to you, eager to please with sweet words and teases. Reassurances you aren’t nothing, that you’ve made a mark on his life he won’t soon be recovering from. The boy with the silver spoon has become the man with a gilded tongue, the one who always inevitably gets what he wants.

God knows Satoru has wanted you for long enough, since you first stumbled into his life at fifteen, it’s only right he gets to have you now despite Suguru’s selfish wishes that you stay affected by him forever.

He’ll fail and that’s why he knows he will return to the compound, a failed scouting mission in the city under his belt, but he’ll slide into someone’s bed regardless. There’s a woman who looks enough like you when the lights are low he can pretend, it’s the reason he recruited her in the first place, a poor imitation of the real deal. He can press his hand over her mouth to keep her from speaking pleasured babbles in a voice that doesn’t belong to you and he can close his eyes and pretend the smack of skin on skin is yours on his. He’ll ask her to flip over to her belly so he doesn’t have to look at her but he can imagine that the hair that’s a shade too dark to belong to you is still yours, looped around his fist while he fucks all of his angst into her, pretending he’s another man living another life.

Your retreating footsteps continue and his traitorous mouth opens, gasping quietly enough it doesn’t grab your attention over the sound of pouring rain and thrumming music behind the entrance to the club, and he closes it wordlessly, grateful he’ll never have to see you look at him like that again.

#geto suguru #geto suguru x reader #jjk

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vibratingskull · 2 days ago

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₊ ˙ ⊹ .Thrawn x F!reader x Thurfian₊ ˙ ⊹ .

Tags : Threesome, double-penetration, breeding kink, sandwich, mating press, P in V, anal, creampies, mind break, Thrawn loses it entirely while Thurfian laughs internally, self indulgent

You're enjoying your evening with your husband and your lover but can you take what they have in store for you?

It's a convo I had with a friend 2 months ago on the tumblr chat, I was bored at work and wrote that story for three days non-stop because it was haunting me! Never doubt my obsession for these two! enjoy!

Thurfian caresses your cheek as he tenderly presses his lips to yours, weighing on you, forcing you to lay on Thrawn’s larger body under you. He keeps kissing you when his hand traces your slit, making you jolt and contract your muscles again, earning a moan from Thrawn that gently ruts inside of you.

"Do not come, Merit Adoptive. Your cock is not the focus of our efforts, it is solely there for her. Control yourself."

You cannot be sure but you think you heard the tiniest, most quiet whine from Thrawn.

Thurfian keeps trailing your slit up and down, gathering your slick on his hand before massaging his hard shaft with it, mixing it with his abundant pre-cum.

He then repositions himself comfortably on the mattress and aligns his cock with your quivering entrance, pressing the leaking tip against your raw hole.

"Are you ready, visaot?” He whispers like a chant.

He pushes forward and enters your tight pussy and you feel immediately ready to bust into tears.

Too much

This is too much

You can't

How could you even...

"Shhhh, shhhh... I know, Princess, I know..." Thurfian soothes, keeping on pushing, " It is a lot to ask your pretty human body, I know. It is not meant to fit a Chiss cock, let alone two." He takes your cheeks in his hands but doesn’t stop, "I know it is such a struggle to allow us both to enter your ravishing body. But you always manage. You always make it fit." He stops his words to let out a bestial groan, "Fucking... Hell, you are so tight! You strangle me sweet thing."

He curses in Cheuhn, words that you don’t know, but you can see all his powerful muscles contracting repeatedly under his blue skin. Your mouth hangs open, trying desperately to force air down your lungs under the sheer pressure your body is subjected to.

You are so full and literally split in two.

Thurfian finally finishes pushing his girth inside, letting it weigh inside your fluffy inner muscles.

"Fucking hell..." He curses lowly before raising his gaze back to look at you, "It is all right, sweet thing, all is inside. You managed, once again. You are so good for me, ch'eo visaot." He takes back his breath before letting a little chuckle escape him "Mmmmmmh, the bulge is consequent. I love to see it... Feeling your little human body struggles to take me whole until it works. Your body was made for my cock, it was made for your Patriarch to fuck you as it pleases him... Delicious.” He purrs, caressing the sinful bulge of your lower tummy with his warm hand delicately, "Relax, sweet thing, relax... Do not whine like that, give your body some time to adjust. It is okay, we know it is always difficult for you." He licks your face from your jaw to your temple with a growl, "But you always succeed in taking us both, together. It is proof you were born for it. You are the cutest little thing, born to let Chiss men use your body... Don’t you like that idea, Princess? Don’t you love the thought of spending your life to be a pretty little thing and letting us use your delectable human body? Nothing to think about, nothing to worry about, just letting yourself be fucked stupid and receiving our loads deep inside of you?" He hisses in your ear, "I feel your tight cunt contracting at my words, Princess, you cannot lie to me." You can hear the smile in his voice despite your closed eyes.

He dramatically pushes all his hair behind his back, with a satisfied expression.

"And what do you think, fucktoy? Mmmh? Don’t you like that idea? Coming home to Csilla with a cute dripping human cunt waiting eagerly for you?" He asks regally.

Thrawn hisses in response, greeting his teeth as your warm body is constricting his big, big cock.

"Tsssssss. He is too far gone. I cant reach him in that state. But maybe you can? Come on, use your words and ask him." Thurfian grins sadistically

"Ah! Won- Won't you li-AH-like this... Thrawn?" You stutter between his hips thrusts.

"Fucktoy." Thurfian corrects darkly.

You wince

"Fu-Fucktoy?"

You hear Thrawn deep growl emanating from his chest, his breath short and shallow as he loses himself in the sensations your body offers him.

"Ye-Yes!" He finally lets out, almost whining, panting heavily "I would... LOVE that, (Y/n), sweet thing, ch'eo-"

Thurfian slaps the back of his head with his brows frowned.

"Do not address her so informally. She is Princess or Lady (Y/n) to you."

Thrawn gasps, as Thurfian’s rut makes you bounce on his cock endlessly.

"Ah-ah...! Yes, Lady (Y/n)...! I would love to come home to your cunt dri-ah-dripping for me." His sentence ends in a long groan.

Thurfian squints, looking at the both of you in silence.

"Can I cum?" Thrawn asks, at the end of his rope, squeezing you in his arms.

"You would love that, don’t you?" Thurfian asks, "Cumming deep inside of her, painting her guts white with your seed, claiming her like the baseless animal that you are..."

"Yes, yes, yes...!" Thrawn pants heavily

"Well you cannot!"

Thrawn instantly digs his nails deep in your flesh like claws just grow out of his fingers and throws his head violently backward against the numerous pillows of the very large bed. You can hear him breathe deeply, fighting his deepest instincts to obey his Patriarch.

But it is...

Difficult

"Come on, Merit Adoptive. You are renown for your legendary self-control and discipline but a human butt pushes you into such a corner? Is she that good?" Thufian tilts his head mockingly.

Thrawn keeps his mouth closed but the roar of rage and frustration rising in his throat and chest is unmistakable. You hear him breathe through his nose as his fingers dig in your hips.

Thurfian lowers himself to your ear.

"I know you are, Princess. You make me lose all decency and reason with that sweet, sweet cunt of yours…” and he fondly kisses your cheek, "Her tight little ass must be stimulated enough. You can stop altogether, fucktoy." Thurfian declares, disinterested in Thrawn's despair.

"Hung... Patriarch..." Thrawn huffs, at the very limit of his patience and will power.

Thurfian only raises an eyebrow at him, unimpressed.

"What, fucktoy? What power do you think you hold between these walls? You are here to serve and please us. Your body’s only quality is to be used. Plus, a woman needs way more than that to cum... Look at her, she is nowhere near orgasm and you are already at the end of your rope? She needs my expert touch to cum, don’t you sweet thing? You have enough of him playing with your rear, right? You need your cute pussy and clit to enter the game yeah? Yes, I know sweet thing, I discipline this unruly beast and will focus exclusively on you." He pecks your lips tenderly holding your chin dripping with your drool before focusing on Thrawn.

"Patriarch" Thrawn growls, "You promised me."

"I know what I promised you, Merit Adoptive. But if you want your prize, you better honor your end of the bargain. I do not ask for much, only your total obedience. You are used to obeying, no? Blindly following orders with an empty head? This is what I ask of you, those are MY terms, and you knew it entering those sheets. Yes or no?"

You hear a snarl behind your back.

"Yes or no, Merit Adoptive?"

"...Yes."

"Good. So you will obey in all matters. I am not interested to know if it is too much, if it is too difficult, if it is too painful... You.Obey." Thufian growls, pissed off by Thrawn insolence, pressing you against his hot body, parting you from Thrawn that seems to try to hold you back.

But he learns his lesson, and lets the Patriarch take you.

"And if you do... You will earn the privilege I promised you. The privilege a lot of other Chiss men tried to gain from me, but that I give to none. Do you hear me, Merit Adoptive? You will be the first."

Thrawn seems to subside as he takes the measure of Thurfian words and the immense present given to him.

"So? Can I count on you or should I kick you out now?" Thurfian demands royaly.

"Yes Patriarch." Thrawn agrees, his teeth greeted shut, "But it is quite difficult to-"

"This is not my problem, dissociate if you have to." Thurfian closes the matter, turning his head back to you, his hard expression melting into a playfully dominating one, "Are you ready my sweet?”

He starts slipping out, earning a hiss from you. Once mid-way through he pushes back in, slowly, and continues several times.

"There... Nice and slow... I would hate for your precious body to get bruised, Princess. Let’s give it time to stretch well for me."

One of his hands grabs a fistful of your hair to pull you into a demanding kiss, so different than the gentle love he is making, while his second-hand fonds your nervous bud and starts playing with it.

"Oh, you have such an honest and reactive body, visaot. I barely touched your little pearl and you strangled me hard instantly. I love bodies like that..." He chuckles in the kiss, “Mmmmmh, keep going, sweet thing, you are doing wonderful, and I am sure your personal fucktoy ADORES feeling you constricting his stupid cock!"

Thrawn whines lightly in response, but remains perfectly still as Thurfian ordered, only caressing your hips with his thumbs.

"I think you are ready, dove. You are dripping on my cock right now, you can take more of me." And Thurfians starts rutting into you at a higher speed, without neglecting your clit "Hell! Tight human pussy so good, better than any Chiss cunts in existence... You are mine, sweet thing, do you hear me? You came into existence to serve me! Didn’t you, sweet little pet? Him? He was born to serve us both and be your personal fucktoy for you to use or dispose at it pleases you..."

Thrawn growls a warning.

" Of course, visaot, of course you are not obligated to accept him. If you wish I can send him back right now."

You do not see it, but it is evident Thurfian is smiling sadistically at Thrawn with all the haugthiness of a Patriarch while Thrawn must be shooting him dead with his glare.

"What do you think, pet, do you want him gone? Tell me…”

"Noooooo..." You protest weakly, already feeling your brain melting away under Thurfian delicious hip thrusts.

"No, my sweet? Oh you have such a better heart than me, way more merciful. If I were you, I would kick him out."

Thrawn snarls in response and Thurfian sniggers, audibly satisfied.

"Well, toy? Do not be ungrateful." Thurfian orders

"Th-thank you, Princess." Thrawn grunts, his body heat skyrocketing.

"That’s all? 'Thank you, Princess'? You clearly do not appreciate the honor we are bestowing onto you."

"Than-Thank you for... Allowing me... To be used by you. Lady (Y/n)" Thrawn corrects, his cock stimulated by your bobbing movement on Thurfian's own cock.

"Better." Thurfian bites, "Now my sweet, where were we? Ah yes, your delectable little pearl. Toy, since you are useless at the moment, serve your Lady and stimulate her clitoris. I want to hug her with both of my arms.”

You feel Thrawn's hands lowering on your body, caressing your inner thighs tenderly before one comes flicking your lil clit earning a yelp from you clenching around them both.

Thrawn yelps and Thurfian groans, finishing in a satisfied snigger as his hands sneak around your body, pressing you hard against his tall body. He forces you to lay down on Thrawn's tall, wide body as he lays on you in return, hugging you so tight you feel like suffocating. His hands roam your body, caressing your back tenderly but also...

Possessively.

He deeply inhales your scent and exhales, satisfied.

"Delicious... So delicious. I love your cute body, human, it gives me so much." He accelerates his rhythm, making you see stars, "Ooh look at yourself... Absolutely cock drunk. You are drooling all over yourself, sweet thing, this is a mess! This is such a good look on you. I want to admire it every day..."

You open your mouth to respond to the praises... Only to let out an incohérent chain of whines and mewls and moans, utterly incapable of speaking a single proper word.

You are simply to fucked out.

"Shhhhhhhhh.I know, darling. Do not try to speak, just enjoy. Relax, let me do the work." Thurfian softly speaks, kissing the corner of your lips and cheek.

Thurfian ruts inside of you, his former quick but sweet pace disappeared in favor of him roaming his hips into yours, your fleshes hitting each other, lewd wet sounds resonating in the bedroom with your desperate grunts.

He is mean and rough and impales you on his cock without any mercy.

"You squeeze me so much my sweet. This is... A delight !" He huffs.

Thrawn keeps massaging your clit thoroughly, but his second hand comes to turn your face towards him and capture your lips again in a desperate kiss.

Desperate for some affection in return.

Thurfian may fucks, take, and give as it pleases him, but Thrawn needs love.

He needs the connection, in any form and and colors

He NEEDS it.

Thurfian releases your body to take support on the headboard, looming over you and Thrawn kissing.

"Aren’t you cute together?" He snarls, " I could shed a tear.”

Thurfian gives you a violent hip thrust out of the sudden and you slash Thrawn's lip inadvertently. You yelp in surprise and caress Thrawn's cheek as a sorry gesture as he licks the blood away.

Thurfian releases the head board to place his hands beside your and Thrawn's head, dominating you both.

Entirely.

"Listen you two." He orders, his voice inviting no rebellion of any sort, "Your little romance is only possible because I allow it... Do not lose sight of that fact." He declares, his gaze so intense you feel like it could kill you if he wanted it. "Do you understand? (Y/n)?"

You nod, gulping.

"Thrawn?"

"Yes Patriarch..."

Thurfian considers you both, squinting, gauging you both.

"Good. Let’s resume." And he takes up his pushes, meaner than ever, more selfish, more...

Jealous

"Are you sleeping, toy? I said 'lets resume'. Do you really want me to kick you out?”

"Understood Patriarch." Thrawn responds, keeping his tone neutral the best he could. He reassures his grip on your thighs and resumes plunging his cock inside of you.

Having Thurfian inside is complicated but doable, having Thrawn inside is another level of difficulty.

Having them both inside, is a miracle.

!but

Having them both roam into you together must count as manslaugther!

How?!

How can you take them both rutting into you at the same time? Their sizes are not meant to fuck the same person at the same time!

You are split in two by each cock rearangeing your guts as it pleases them.

Your nerve endings are on fire, the shockwaves of pleasure disintegrate your brain cells each passing second.

And they show no signs of stopping.

"(Y/n)? My sweet? Focus on my words. There, listen to me beautiful. I want you to cum with me... I want us both to cum at the same time, do you think you can do that for me, visaot?" Thurfian sweetly asks

You can only pant in response. They are literally fucking your brain out, making you roll your eyes inside your head. You feel your drool running on your own skin as you forget yourself in the pleasure

"Focus my dear. Toy, when did I tell you to stop taking care of her little clit?" Thurfian demands haughtily.

Thrawn's hand returns between your and Thurfian's body to resume his sweet torture, making you mewl and cream all over Thurfian's cock.

"Blast... I almost came hearing you." He says getting back control over himself, "Focus your mind to kiss me my sweet."

And your lips meet again in a starving embrace, devouring each other out of lust and despair

He robs of your air with the kiss and your dignity with his fuck. The kiss is languid and passionate as he thrusts meanly into you.

His kiss seems to tell what his honor refuses to put into words.

"I am so close, sweet thing. Can you sprint to the finish line to meet me? We will help you of course..." He almost begs

Almost

You nod weakly, just trying not to pass out at this point.

"Toy, accelerate your caress, stop everything, and focus solely on her clit for now. You can cum after. Help her squirt for me, would you?”

Thurfian rolls his hips deep and hard in your pussy as Thrawn caresses your clit at a very high speed making you shake, moan, and tremble...

Thurfian clasps his lips on yours, devouring you with his mouth like a starved predator, grunting and moaning his own pleasure to titillate and encourage you.

"Come on, Princess. I know you can do it. Cum with me, as one single person... Come on sweet thing." His words carry you in your trial.

The scent of sex makes you feel dizzy and all the moans make your head spin.

Thurfian hips thrust start to get erratic as your pussy convulses and tightens around his cock

And then, the tension snaps brutally and you feel like your brain just explodes at the same time as your pussy. In a blinding light, you squirt on Thurfian's shaft as he pushes one last time, spurting his virile seed inside your womb.

Your scream of orgasm is muffled by Thurfian's demanding kiss, swallowing all sounds coming from you. He keeps kissing you as your human pussy is milking him for all his worth, feeling his creamy seed invade your secret temple.

Thurfian remains still inside of you, kissing you deeply, while your orgasm slowly subside and with it your desperates yelps

He reluctantly part from you, panting and sweating. The deep kiss let places to softer kisses on tip of your lips, a strand of saliva connecting you, as proof of your sin.

"Wonderful, Princess." Thurfian praises, sighing, "You did it. You spoil me, sweet thing. Oh you are drooling all over yourself, visaot... Was it that good?" He kisses your forehead, cupping your cheek, "I love you so much, Princess. You are everything I need in this life."

You whine under the praises, your heartbeat slowly going down, feeling sweat trickling down your body.

"Allow me to remain inside a bit more, sweet thing. I need to feel your body around my cock a little longer…”

Thurfian lays on you, weighing you down as he pecks your lips and cheeks. You whine as Thrawn doesn’t stop caressing your little clit rapidly, keeping your spasming thighs shaking terribly and prompting Thurfian to look down between your bodies.

"All right, toy, enough. I will take it from here." Thurfian parts from you to sit on his ankles, still buried deep within you. "I will take care of her pearl, you may fuck her as you please."

Thrawn immediately seizes under your thighs to raise and open them up and resume his deep rut, while Thurfian draws sweet circles on your clit.

Thrawn ravages you like he is desperate, whining and moaning into your ear, begging you to accept him deep inside, he licks the sweat rolling down your temple while you feel like you are being fucked by an animal.

You are definitely loosing some IQ points at each thrusts.

Thurfian throws his head back, appreciating the up and down movement on his cock as Thrawn mates with you like it is his last day on Csilla.

"That is not displeasing at all... Keep going a little more toy." Thurfian's hums.

Thrawn grunts in response and turns your head to capture your lips once again. His tongue enters your mouth to dance and hug yours in an intimate embrace.

Oh dear maker...!

It is like a horse pounding into you.

This is such a trial.

This so hard.

Each time you think you remember what Thrawn's feels like in your rear, and each time you are proven wrong.

You almost bite your own tongue under his ravaging thrust.

"Ca... Can't! To-too much..." You whine, parting from the kiss to throw your head backward.

Thurfian who was caressing the bulge made by his cock with dark satisfaction raises his red gaze to you

"Come on now, pet. Do not be ridiculous. This is not your first time with your toy! You always took him before. You took us both ramming into you before, remember?" He grins at you

"I-I... I can’t..."

"Shhhhhhhh. Of course, you can, this isn’t the first time, and knowing you it won’t be the last. Turn your head, and look at your toy. See how relieved he feels? You can’t deny him now, Princess, Can you? Look at his face so lost in the pleasure you are giving him. Only you can make him feel like that.”

You get lost in your admiration of Thawn's face. He looks so harsh but when he manages to open his eyes to look into yours you can see all the desperation, the hope, the lust, the love, the tenderness..

All that his heart is capable.

His eyes shine bright, begging you to not refuse him, to let him have this, that this is all he ever wanted in life.

You lean forward to kiss Thrawn’s cheek and he comes undone instantly. When your lips touch his skin his entire body violently contracts and he buries himself to the hilt and cums deep inside.

You cannot refrain the pathetic cry of surprise escaping you as you feel his hot ribbons of seed flooding your guts.

You gasp for air, but ultimately relieved that it is over.

Thrawn's body relaxes and hits the mattress as all his strength escaped him. His body is burning to the touch, drenched in sweat and his large chest rises up and down rapidly.

Thurfian considers the scene before him and lets out a single mocking snigger.

"Amateurs..." He slips out of you gently and you protest at the empty sensation in your cunt.

Thurfian silently admire his work on you.

"Mmmmmh... This is always such a joy to see my seed oozing out of your little pussy, pet. A shame I did not bring your favorite plug."

"Patriarch..." Thrawn intervenes with a hiss, still panting.

"Yes I know, toy. I did not forget.”

Thurfian leans on the side to retrieve a large glass of water, you look at it with envy, feeling parched and exhausted.

You cry as Thurfian gulps down the glass himself craving that fresh water in your throat.

But Thurfian leans forward, cupping your cheek, and kisses you deeply, letting you drink at the fountain of his lips. You swallow the water with glee and relief. He parts with you and leaves a last soft peck on the tip of your lips.

He takes a step back to admire the obscene scene in his bed, his long hair framing his gorgeous face.

He suddenly splaps Thrawn thigh.

"All right, toy. She is all yours.”

"Huh...?" You frown, exhausted, as Thurfian simply leaves the bed entirely.

You yelp as you feel Thrawn seizing your hips to slip his large cock out of you. Always considerate, he does ivet ry slowly to not upset your sensitive body. That doesn’t prevent an ungodly moan from escaping you as his tip is freed from your tight ring, leaving you infuriatingly empty.

"Oh dear Warrior!" You curse at the new sensation, both relieved and displeased.

Thrawn kisses your cheek with a loud noise and lays you beside him on the stupidly large bed and... Roll on top of you.

You gulp, Thrawn looming over you in complete silence, both hands beside your head, devouring you with his rubies.

"Hum... Thrawn?" You start with a trembling voice, "What did Thurfian promise you... Exactly?"

"Your sweet pussy." Thurfian reenters the room with a long open robe, not hiding his naked body in the slightest, a glass of bourbon in his hand

"What?!" You demand indignant and incredulous

With his size?!

Nono nononono nonononono no no!

There are reasons why Thrawn always did anal with you and Thurfian got your pussy each time :

-Thurfian never allowed another man to approach your pussy. It is HIS and his ONLY.

- Especially Thrawn with his measurements!

There are limitations to the human body and this is one of them: Your pussy cannot take him.

Like water is wet and fire is hot, Thrawn doesn’t fit.

You look back at Thrawn, praying for him to smile and admit they are fucking with you.

But he looks incredibly serious and...

Determinated.

"Thurfian!" You protest, putting your hands on Thrawn's pecs to not let him lay on you.

"Relax pet. I know you can do it." He respond incredibly disinterested.

"How can you know such a thing!?" You protest, terrified and angry.

He takes a long sip of his bourbon

"You remember that dildo I offered you for your starday, pet? From who do you think I took the dimensions to have it made?”

You feel like you are going to choke, that dildo?!

"Do you remember how hard it was for me to fit it inside?!" You curse him.

"But we managed." He responds with a little grin, eyes on his glass, "With good preparation it fit you like a glove and you had so much fun with it!"

"I...I..."

"Relax Princess, if the dildo fit once, he is going to fit too. We prepared you all night for this goal. Hell, I was preparing you for several months!" He gently approaches to brush your cheek with his knuckles.

"Trust me, (Y/n)..." Thrawn whispers softly, his hand cupping your cheek tenderly, "I will be nice...I will be tender. I dream of this night since we met..."

You gulp, yelping like a terrified puppy.

"Go on, toy. A woman's desire dies really quickly." Thurfian instruct.

Thrawn angles your head up and lowers himself to kiss you. It is so soft, so sweet, so tender... You cant believe he is about to crush you to pieces...

He brushes your noses together and sits on his heels, grabbing your hips in his large hands and align himself against your entrance.

His shaft is already proudly erect once again as nothing can tire Chiss. He plays with the tip for three second before lathering his entire length with his abundant pre-cum spilling again.

You shudder, hypnotized and utterly terrified by his size.

He presses his fat tip and pushes past the tight ring of your flesh.

"Oh fuck!" you instantly explode, feeling all your air being pushed out of you as he invades your tight canal.

" Language, pet." Thurfian warns

You gasp for air, several times, feeling like you are suffocating.

"Fuckfuckduckfuckfuck...!" You repeat like it would make it easier for your tight cunt.

Thrawn keeps pushing, slowly but without stopping for a moment.

"Maker... Fucking... Blast!" You continue.

"Relax, Princess." Thrawn coos, "You are doing so great." He brushes your noses again in a desperate attempt to ease your tight muscles.

You feel him stretching you wide open, tearing your delicate muscles apart.

This is so hard!

You feel like you are dying.

And finally

He stops

"Breath, my Lady, we are mid-way through." He peppers kisses all over your face

"Thrawn... Please... I beg of you, please... I can't..." You huff and pants and cry, feeling a single tear rolling down your cheek.

Thrawn licks the tear with a purr.

"Yes you can, Princess. Of course you can, you are always so good with me, i know you can do it" he praises, offering sweet words to comfort and support you.

You stutter several time

"I can't..." You repeat, your throat constricted.

"Yes, you can" he kisses you softly, "The Patriarch showed me the videos, I know for a fact that you can do it. You only need love and time to adjust." He peppers sweet kisses on your lips.

He grabs your two cheeks and delicately kisses your trembling mouth properly, humming in the kiss, vocalizing his satisfaction. The kiss is infinitely tender and reverent, like a devotee praying to his idol. Nothing but love escapes his lips to brush yours as his thumbs caress your cheekbone, his purr resonating in the large bedroom.

You gasp and beg for Thrawn's mercy but he resumes his motion, getting deeper and deeper, and deeper...

"Oh fuck...!" You sob

"Breathe ch'acah, tell me if it hurts." Thrawn comforts you, on the verge of explosion himself.

It doesnt hurt, it's just...

Too much!

"Pleasepleasepleasepleasepleaseplease...."

"Almost there, love. Do not break on me, you are a big girl. Hold my hand.”

Thrawn clasps one of his hands in yours,.intertwining your fingers together, locking you together.

"We are almost there." He repeats before letting out a curse in cheuhn you do not know.

"How is it for you, Merit adoptive?" Thurfian mocks, "How are you holding on?"

"... With difficulties." Thrawn admits between two deeps breaths through his nose, "I did not expect... All of that."

Thurfian laughs, tremendously amused.

"I warned you human pussies were something else. I was cursed until death the night I entered her tight vagina." He muses finishing his glass. "But you have no comparison point, do you, Merit adoptive? Bedding partners is not what you are known for, isn't it?"

Thrawn gasps as you open your mouth in a perfect O.

Finally

You feel his hips against yours...

He is fully inside. And that is a miracle.

Thrawn trembles terribly, sweat trickling down his carved body, his breath is short and shallow.

For a second you are afraid his gigantic body would just snap under so much pressure and fall on you, crushing you entirely.

"So? How is it?" Thurfian slyly demands, "How does your first pussy feels, toy?"

"A lot...!" Thrawn breathily responds.

"Mmmmh, maybe human pussy is too high class for an ingenue like you, toy... You should have known your limits and restricted yourself. Feel free to slip out of her if you do not feel up to the task.”

You shudder, your little pussy stretched in a way you never felt before.

Thrawn's response forces you to open your eyes wide in shock.

He roars, like a beast, his long teeth greeted shut, refusing to back down before the Mitth Patriarch.

"You are sure of yourself, Merit Adoptive, as I expected. But learn that fucking a rear and fucking a pussy are two different things. You need techniques, dexterity, stamina, and flexibility. Pussies are such magnificent jewels of nature but so demanding and complex... Are you really sure you can do it?" Thurfian keeps teasing.

"I can!" Thrawn leaves out, slowly getting back control over himself. " I can. Thank you for your concerns, Patriarch."

Thurfian laughs.

"You think I worry for you? Learn a little thing Merit Adoptive, you are EXACTLY where want you to be. You thought you wanted this, but I wanted you here because this entire situation benefits me only.”

"How so?" Thrawn asks, slowly recovering his usual sterness.

"Fuck her a little, and we will see if you learned anything in politics." Thurfian responds haughtily.

Thrawn gives him a side eyes, suspicious, but refocus on you and his sterness soften a bit.

"I am going to move Ch'acah." He annonces gently.

You nod, your teeth greeted in the sheer effort to not broke down in his arms.

Thrawn slips a bit out of you, just a little, and gently pushes back in. You instantly dig your nails into his hand and into the sheet, piercing his skin to blood. But your body lets him move without being too difficult

Thrawn tries again, and again, and again, and again, and...

He is now making gentle love to you, stretching to your absolute maximum. You whine weakly because no other sound is able to pass your lips.

"What are you waiting for, fucktoy? Kiss her." Thurfian seems to be loosing his patience, "Are you getting shy all of the sudden?"

Thrawn licks his lips before laying on your body, shielding you from everything with his size and your lips meet for a sweet kiss.

"Go on. Kiss her as she loves, use your tongue, robb her of her breath and make her head spin." Thurfian instructs

Next thing you know, thrawn's tongue is licking your lips, demanding access. You accept and he locks your lips in a tender embrace, in a languorous dance of tongues and languid, sensual experience.

You mewl in the kiss, trying desperately not to bite his tongue in your confusion.

"Very good. Keep thrusting, do not slow down. The next thing you will do is take care of her clitoris. Penetration is good, but what matters is that delicious and delicate bundle of nerves.”

Thrawn’s second-hand caresses its way south, brushing your skin and leaving goosebumps on its trail until it reaches your clit and starts to massage it fondly.

Thrawn's muscles immediately contract at your reaction, arching his back in a reflex.

"Did you feel it? How she immediately clenched around your cock under your gentle attention? Thats how you treat a woman, do you understand?"

"Yes Patriarch..." Thrawn tries to recover his cool but your cunt works him up so much he has trouble remaining focused.

Thurfian looks at you both, a strange shimmer in his eyes. He stands up, leaving the glass on the table, and approaches his large bed, hands clasped behind his back, not even trying to cover himself modestly.

"Rise up and push her legs on her chest, then lay on them. Tilt her hips up." He says casually, caressing the side of your face with the tip of his fingers, looking at you with satisfaction.

Thrawn obeys, grabbing your hips he tilts them up, presses your legs on your rising chest and lays over you.

You let out the most lewd and undignified sound a human ever produced... Finishing in a Desperate gasped plea.

"How does it feel, Merit Adoptive? Can you feel how it magically opened her up?" Thurfian asks with a lopsided grin.

"Ye-Yes'..." Thrawn nods enthusiastically, panting like a dog, rutting into you with abandon

but still mindful of your physical limitations and size differences.

"Keep fucking her, do not forget her pearl."

Thrawn gasps and groans and moans and grunts, rolling his hips into you with what you can only describe as pure glee.

"Mmmh, continue toy. Keep going, feel her around you, appreciate her warmth, enjoy her wetness, admire how she welcomes you inside despite your difference in stature..."

Thrawn's hand that is not working on your clit suddenly grabs the pillow next to your head and you can actually hear him tearing the fabric apart with his nails, reducing it to pieces.

"What do you think, toy? Is it better than everything you ever knew?" Thurfian asks on a confidene tone

But something in his voice is...rotten

Like his words are dripping of... Pure poison

"Yes, Patriarch! It is fantastic!" Thrawn declares, getting lost in his sensations.

"Aaaaaaaw, do you hear that pet? Your pussy is fantastic." Thurfian smiles at you, booping your nose.

Then Thurfian suddenly grabs Thrawn's hair and yanks his head backward violently.

Thrawn whines in surprise and tries to get him to let go, but Thurfian doesn’t release him and shakes his head to force him into submission.

"Now listen toy.” He spits “You may be a genius on the Battlefield but you are a wounded puppy in politics. I will generously give you a little class, in addition to this fucking lesson. All right?”

Thrawn growls

But submit

"Good. Keep fucking while I lecture you, she should not have to suffer your incompetence."

Thrawn resumes his thrusts, his head uncomfortably forced backward.

"Now listen, little boy. You may think I made you an honor tonight, and you would be right. You would be shocked to know the number of men who begged me for one night in her arms. But i refused. Each of them. Do you have an idea why?"

"...They were not worth her time?" Thrawn hisses between his teeth.

"And that would make YOU worth it maybe?" Thufian mocks, "I had nothing to gain giving them access to her embrace, and she was not interested in any of them. You... You are fucking pain in my neck since your entry into the family!" Thurfian hisses between gritted teeth, "You kept turning around her endlessly. You think you might have been smooth and discreet but first puppy loves are usually too exciting to be hidden. But it was also the perfect trap." Thurfian continues snarling "For you see, this honor, will be your curse for the rest of your life. Spending your first time between the thighs of a human woman will haunt you for the rest of your life and will only benefit me. You either prove your complete inability as a lover and she loses all interest in you and I do not have to suffer your presence in my own bedroom for the rest of your lives. Or, and I vastly prefer this option, you prove yourself capable and wish to remain in those sheets, between those thighs, buried inside her until the end of times..." He taunts.

Thrawn remains silent, listening attentively to where all of this is going.

"But... If you wish to remain... You must please ME in return. And that starts by stopping all your crazy plans, stopping to ignore my orders, and FINALLY learning your true place in this family. Do you hear me, boy...?"

Thurfian shakes him again before his mutism.

"I pity you Thrawn, having your first time between her thighs. Tasting true pleasure at last, but with her body. You do not know the shackles you just put on yourself. You will never be able to settle for any less."

"What makes you think that?" Thrawn finally broke his silence.

"Because that's what happened to me. I entered her once and realized immediately I brought doom upon myself." Thurfian reveals, "Why do you think I suddenly sent back all my other partners? I knew at that moment that they could never give me what I was craving anymore.” He lets the poison drip off his tongue to intoxicate Thrawn, "You will spend the rest of your life starving for a love no Chiss will ever be able to offer you. You will walk desperately in search of an oasis to drink out of. You will try to dress a wound that will keep on bleeding... I.Promise.You." Thurfian enunciates clearly, like his long years as a syndic taught him "But... If you accept my terms I will allow you to keep meeting her, to appease your hunger and quench your thirst. I only expect of you your total obedience and submission. Is that clear?"

"Be more precise in your offer." Thrawn negotiates.

"If I order you to stop your crazy battle plan, you stop it. If I order you to not mingle into aliens’ affairs, you keep that nose of yours out of their business. If I order you to not perform a preemptive strike, to not put a skywalker in danger, to not flirt with the line, you obey. And if you do that, I will allow you to keep seeing MY wife." Thurfian hisses the 'my', "You will be free to take her on dates, to flirt, to live your puppy love like you were in a dream. I will allow you to fuck her pussy all your heart contents, and if you prove yourself especially obedient to my power..." Thurfian presses his lips in Thrawn's ear to whisper, "I will allow you... To breed her.”

Thrawn seems to frozes, eyes focused on his Patriarch, debating in himself of he was telling the truth.

"You heard me right, boy." Thurfian smiles at him, "If you are obedient, I will let you breed my cute human wife. Don’t you want that? Seeing her getting round and heavy with the weight of your baby? Admiring her walking around Csilla with your legacy inside of her for all Chiss to see? Don't you crave it? Don't you dream about it?" Thurfians words finish in an incubus purr, tempting Thrawn already slipping down the slop.

"... What would my rights be toward the child?" Thrawn demands, cautious but oh so... Seduced.

"They will live with her and me, they will receive the blood education and privileges. But I'll make it clear to them who their father is, I will not take that role for you. When you come back to Csilla for your leaves, you can take them to your apartment to have them all to yourself I do not care." Thurfian lowers himself down to Thrawn's level again "If you play your cards right, Thrawn, you will secure what every Chiss parent craves for their descendants: education, privilege, and security. If you listen to me, you will be able to fulfill your Chiss breeding instincts to your heart contents and protect all your children with the Blood Mitth status.”

Thrawn chest rises up and down rapidly.

"All I ask in return, for all these honors, is your obedience and loyalty..."

Thrawn presses his lips in a thin line, silencing himself.

"I know that you dream about it... That you wake up sweating at the thought of breeding my wife. I saw it in your very eyes... This is so easy, you only have to say 'yes' to me."

Thurfian turns his head to you, with a knowing grin.

"What do you think pet, wouldn’t you love to receive this energetic young man's seed inside of you? Be a good pet and bear our children to us both?"

You open your mouth only to let out a choked gurgle, a long stream of drool escaping your mouth, your eyes rolled inside your head.

You think you hear them speak but you could NOT understand a word to save your life with how fucked up your brain is right now

Thank the Warrior Thrawn is so focused on Thurfian's words his rut is less powerful.

Allowing you to just... Breathe

"Mmmmmh... Look at her toy, admire how blessed she looks, how she takes your cock so well! Don't you want to spend your life pleasing her? Giving her the children she craves, offering the family that she deserves?" Thurfian muses, "Look deep into those eyes, see the bliss and lust, and tell me she was born for another purpose but to give children to the Chiss Ascendancy." He purrs, looking at your dazed form fondly.

"My work...Humph- My work is important! Only I can do it. I need to serve the Ascendancy..."

"You can serve in so many other ways than to set fire to it, toy." Thurfian's tone hardens, "Be a loyal Mitth, obey your superior officers without being zealous, learn your limit, and give children to the Ascendancy. That! Is the Chiss way.” He shakes his head once, "If you accept, she could get pregnant with you this very night, Thrawn." Thurfian whispers like a siren, "Could you imagine it? Pregnant with your descendants? Your legacy secured, the ultimate gift to the Ascendancy: perpetuating the race."

Thrawn's muscles contract as his breathes deepens, terribly interested, drinking Thurfian's words like honey.

"You are a good Chiss, Thrawn. I know it." Thurfians soothes, " You know deep down what the species need. Securing the next generations, giving meaning to your very work, giving you a reason to fight. Don’t you want to be part of all of this? Be a hero in battle and in civilian life? Don’t you think your genius brain should have a chance to live on in your heirs?"

Thurfian caress the consequent bulge in your stomach, guiding Thrawn's eyes lower, towards your womb. He brushes the skin delicately and with love.

"You have only one word to say Thrawn and everything you ever desired could be yours... What is your decision?”

"..."

"What did you say, toy? Speak clearer, i did not hear you!" Thurfian demands regally.

"...Yes... Yes, yes..." Thrawn repeats, at the end of his rope, seduced beyond his mind, ready to pounce.

Thurfian considers him in silence, squinting at the once fiercome Senior Captain

Finally reduced to an obedient puppy in his hands... It took some time, but he managed.

Finally.

"Good, toy... Good." He playfully boops the tip of Thrawn's nose, "We will discuss all the new rules you will EAGERLY follow later." He releases Thrawn's hair that almost falls on you, crushing you entirely, "You may have her as it pleases you, you have my blessing...She is all yours for the rest of the night.”

Thrawn grunts heavily, taking deep breaths like after a marathon. He lays fully on you, pressing your knees against your chest, crushing you under the weight of his muscular body, one arm slides under your back, pressing you so tight you feel your lungs will explode, and the other hand grabs the top of your head, a mix between taking a fistful of hair and caressing your head like he could not know if he was trying to be gentle or rough.

He takes a long lick from your jaw to your temple with the flat of his tongue, letting out a long moan, he licks the other side of your face, drinking the tears and sweat on your skin.

He then presses his forehead against yours, captivating the rest lf your dying attention with his bright red eyes.

His eyes shine so brightly the pupils disapeared alltogether, and the lamps in the room are useless with two pairs of chiss eyes.

He replace himself, his hips forcing yours to tilt upward.

He slips out of you, leaving just his tip...

Looks at you dead in the eyes, daring you to stop him

And rams his whole size back in with full force

You let out a scream

It feels like a truck run over you.

He slips out and do it again, impaling his cock down your little pussy that does its best to take such dimensions ramming into you

You try to take a big breath but each of his hips undulation punches the air out of you. You try to cry and complain but all words die in your throat.

Thrawn keeps going.

Accelerate his pace

Until he fucks your poor pussy like he would fuck a fleshlight, rapidly, deeply and roughly

"Frost!" Thrawn curses between breaths, "That's fantastic!" He licks your face and mouth like a rabid animal would, his proper and elegant dispositions and manners gone with the wind, "Keep going, Ch'acah! Do not refuse me!" He ruts deep inside, burying himself to the hilt, hitting your cervix with full force, "you feel so good! Take me! Take me whole!"

The bed complains and cracks under his assaults, threatening to break under such activities.

"Please,Ch'acah, please!" Thrawn begs, out of his mind, moaning and groaning like a beast in heat, "Will you beare my child? Let me breed you? Like the good Princess that you are?" In his complete confusion he manages to capture your lips and kisses you languorously, muffling all your screams.

"Thats... Fucking impressive, i have to admit." Thurfian says casually, his arms crossed over his chest, observing the...Breeding session.

"Let me cum inside my love. Let me give you a baby. A little one...! Oh fuck!" Thrawn grunts, his voice dropping several octaves as his instinct takes the reins of his brain, "Ch'acah...! Be good for me! Let me breed you, you were made to take my cock in your pussy! Warrior, this so good, I cannot stop!"

"Aaaaw, the first love frolicking mark you for life! Make it count toy." Thurfian pats Thrawn shoulders with two fingers and heads outside the bedroom towards his library, " Have fun you two."

"I can... feel you all around me! You are strangling my cock so hard, I want to remain BURIED in you for the rest of my life! Oh please Ch'acah..." Thrawn voice fluctuates between orders, laments, begging, prayers…"I never felt anything like that before! I can only think about breeding that cute pussy! I can feel it clenching around my cock, begging for my seed...! FUCK! I'll give it to you my sweet, all of it, until the very last drop!" Thrawn chants his litany, rocking his hips so hard you can only wonder if your pelvis will not just break under such assaults "Do you want it, love? Do you want my seed deep inside you?"

Raw pleasure courses your body, shaking your limbs violently. By some miracle, Thrawn’s fuck isn’t painful but that doesn’t make it any more easier and you feel his tip repeatedly hitting your cervix deep inside of you.

"Thrawn...! Please!" You gasp, "You-You're too much... I ca-"

" And all of it is for you, Ch'acah! Only for you! Oh FUCK! The Patriarch was right! It's not worth it if they dont feel like you around my cock! Oh you cursed me, Ch'acah! I can never have any other pussy from now on...! You will be my death...!"

"Ple-... I beg of you... Slow down! I cant take that much inside me!" You cry "Oh BLAST...!"

"I cant!" He gasps as he keeps plunging in shaft deep between your bruised flesh "You are driving me insane... I need that tight pussy squeezing me! Oh you feel AMAZING!”

"Ple-please! Finish quickly...!" You beg in tears. "Oh Maker, I can't!"

"I-I can't! I want you to cum first! I NEED you to cum first! Cum for me my love, do it for me! Ah, Your screams of pleasure are amazing!" His hand holding your head sneaks between your bodies to play with your clit.

You squeal and tense instantly, your entire body under intense pressure, compressing his hard shaft.

"That was GLORIOUS my love! Oh keep going, I beg of you! You are all I ever wanted in this life, I need no one else! Fuck, I cant think properly! Tight pussy so good...!" He furiously caresses your clit, leaving you no time to recover or breath as he keeps pounding you like a nightbull in rut. "I feel you squeezing more and more! Cum for me! Squirt on my cock! Make a mess!”

Thrawn roars as he deepens his thrusts, sweat rolling on his carved body.

"Hug me, my love! Dig your nails in my shoulders, claw my back! I want to wear the scars of your passion deep into my flesh!"

The wet, sloppy, lewd sounds of your furious lovemaking mixed with the heady scent of sex is making your head spin dangerously.

"I want to fuck my load deep inside! I want your stomach swollen with all of my semen! I want to see your pretty body heavy with my child! I want to show you off to all the others! Cute pussy letting me breed her as I need it!” He chants, "Dig your nails in my skin, make me bleed for you! Do what you want with my body, I give it to you! It was created to serve you! FROST!" Thrawn starts to get delirious between your thighs, gone is the charismatic and unsinkable Senior Captain.

You welcomed an true animal between your thighs

"Oh- Oh Maker....!!!!" You hiss, feeling the tsunami of pleasure rising on your veins.

"Yes! Cum for me my love! Do not fight it! Cum on my cock, use me for your convenience!"

He gives a final, fated twist at your pearl and you scream his name for all to hear, the tsunami crashing down upon you with such violence you think you will pass out entirely! Your muscles contract so much that you are convinced they will be torn to shred! Your toes curl so hard it is painful as your back arches dramatically under Thrawn’s large, hot body.

Thrawn gives you four final thrusts that you can only qualify as aggressive and desperate and he comes undone inside you.

You feel his entire body hardening as he represses a roar coming from the very depths of his chest, burying his head in the crook of your neck and spurting his seed in your abused pussy.

Your body suddenly...Fall

Whatever was holding it together, tension, survival instinct, lust, madness... Just snaps and all your strength leaves you entirely and you enter some kind of physiological shock. You spasm on the mattress helplessly, losing all control over your limp body, leaving it at Thrawn's entire mercy...

He raises his head, panting, completely disoriented like he was in some sort of spell or trance this entire time. He looks at you.

Or rather devour you with his firey eyes. He lowers himself back to capture your lips in a cry for tenderness, for any affection you could spare him...

Your swollen lips dance together in an intimate embrace and in your debilitating daze you can pick up on the fact that he started purring.

You break down crying at that delicate sound. You sob and hiccup uncontrolably as Thrawn embraces you tight, still buried in you.

"Shhhhhhhhhhh... It is over, Ch'acah... It is done." He whispers, "I am sorry my love, I failed to keep my urges on a leash, I lashed at you. It is unforgivable." His hands came cupping your cheeks to caress your skin with thumbs, "Look at me, love, It is over. You did it. You are amazing." He brushes his nose with you tenderly, trying to soothe you but you keep crying, "Are you... mad at me?" He starts to worry.

You shake your head but your sobs dont subside. You circle his neck and press him tight against you, choking him a bit.

"Hug me as as hard as you need, ch'acah, my body is at your entire disposal."

You both bury your face in the neck of the other, you to cry and inhale his reassuring musk and he leaves the lightest kisses on your skin, praising you endlessly as he caresses your back with so much fondness.

"You did so well. Taking me whole like that, you gave me so much. You must be so tired, my love, rest in my arms for as long as you need." He brushes his nose with your neck and Whisper so low you barely hear him, "I love you…”

"Dear Warrior, you took your sweet time!" Thurfian barges in the bedroom a book still in hand, making you jump and whine in Thrawn's arms "What the hell did you... What's happening here?"He stops dead in his tracks.

Thrawn looks at him with a sorry expression in his eyes.

"I may have-"

"Is she crying!?" Thurfian almost shouts.

He throws the book across the room, skirting the bed with long strides, and immediately kneels at your side, "Pet? Visaot? Are you all right? Look at me Ch'acah..."

You sob as you release Thrawn to hug Thurfian's shoulders, "Oh my warrior, what did this brute do to you, Princess? I am with you now, everything is going to be all right, my sweet, dry your tears."

You dig your nails in Thurfian's robe, relieved to hear, feel, and smell your husband after this experience.

"Patriarch, I-" Thrawn tries.

"Not a word, Merit Adoptive." Thurfian cuts him short, "You did enough damage for tonight. You served your purpose, you can go."

"Please, Patriarch, I just..." Thrawn insists but closes his mouth before Thurfian's terrible gaze.

"Leave, Merit Adoptive. You are no longer welcomed in our wedding bed."

Thrawn takes the stab deep in his flesh, but bows to his Patriarch in submission.

He very carefully slips out of your vagina, wincing in displeasure as he cant feel you around him anymore, and leaves the bed.

Thurfian sits down on the edge of the matress and hugs you tight, whispering sweet nothing to you. He cradles you gently, kissing the top of your head.

"I know, ch'acah, I know. Try to give a beast some food and it will eat your entire arm. This... Animal needs to learn its place." He spits, looking at Thrawn dressing back.

Thrawn turns to the both of you, fully clothed in his Captain’s regalia, his usual stern expression on his face.

"Patriarch, thank you for... Allowing me to come tonight again." Thrawn bows deeply. He raises back and looks at you with... Despair and imploration.

He kneels to the bed and takes your hand to kiss it and press it against his forehead.

Like a servant do his king.

"I am sorry, Ch'acah. May you find the strength to forgive my actions and bless the fool that I am."

Thufian didn’t lose a crumb of that stunt...

Thrawn raises back up and walks away.

Your hand hangs in the air, trying to hold him back, but he cannot see.

He only sees what he has done to you...

You flinch when the door closes.

"...Thrawn?" You asks in disbelief.

"He left. Good riddance." Thurfian keeps cradling you tenderly, caressing a strand of hair behind your ear.

"...but... I need him..." You weakly speak, trying to raise in a sitting position.

"You need a bath and to rest. This is your only job." Thurfian holds you down.

He pushes the covers away to reveal your naked body to his view.

His elegant hand comes to part your thighs away for him to see.

He hiss

"Such crude animal... You are bruised all over your groin region." He shakes his head, "This boy needs to learn to handle delicate things with more care."

"He is careful..." You protest weakly, trying to sit again but you wince in soreness and a bit of pain. " He just got... Overwhelmed..."

"Are you defending him?" Thurfian demands, "Are you defending him in the same sheets he wounded your body in?"

"I... I dont know." you admit, "I just think... You should not be too harsh on him. He doesn’t deserve it... I think."

Thurfian gauges you up and down, frowning at you. You gulp before his gaze.

"I am the one judging who deserves what in this family. Not you." He sentences.

"I... I am sorry, Thurfian. I forgot my place." You exhale painfully.

Thurfian seizes your chin and kisses your lips, robbing you of your air as he knows to do so well.

You gasp when your lips part.

"He deserves a punishment for treating you like that, whether you liked it or not." He lets you know

"Please... Don't be too hard." You beg, "I love him."

Thurfian considers you for a second, his thumb caressing your jaw gently.

"This love is the only reason I do not throw him out of this family back to the backwater world and position he truly deserves." He clenches his jaw, "He will receive the punishment I see fit, but for your heart..." He stands back up, your hand in his, looking down at you, "... I will not be too harsh on the boy."

"Thank you, Ch'acah..." You smile, grateful and exhausted.

He slides his arm under your knees, lifts you up bridal style, and heads toward the bathroom.

He will give you a bath, let you eat a piece of chocolate cake he knows you love so much and when you will go to sleep, comforted in the thought you protected your clumsy lover from your husband, Thurfian will look at you, smiling as he will lay beside you, caressing your cheek with the back of his hand...

Knowing that his plan worked

To absolute...

Perfection.

@bluechiss @justanothersadperson93 @thrawnspetgoose @Thrawnalani @twilekchiss @dance-like-russia-isnt-watching @obbicrystaleo@empresskrennic @davesrightshoe @elise2174 @Holylonelyponyeatingmacaroni @Janjtje

#thrawn #grand admiral thrawn #mitth'raw'nuruodo #thurfian #thurfian x reader #thrawn x f!reader #thrawn x reader #thrawn x you #thrawn x y/n #thrawn smut #vibratingskull

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glisten-inthedark · 2 days ago

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A lot of straight people, especially conservative leaning ones simply aren’t able to recognize queer storytelling unless a character explicitly says. “I’m gay” on screen. I was showing my mom yellowjackets and two of the teammates are clearly lesbians - like they’re clearly dating and even literally have sex, but my mom still consistently referred to the girlfriend character as the character’s “friend.”

With Stranger Things, I had to literally explain that Will was gay and in love with Mike and talking about himself in the van scene otherwise she literally wouldn’t have gotten it. Because it just wouldn’t have registered. She always knew something was “different” with Will, but she never realized he was gay because she will never jump to seeing a character as gay unless she has to. Even after this, she only fully understood when she saw the article of Noah explaining Will was canonically gay and in love with Mike, and even then, she didn’t really “understand” where this came from and seems to believe it came out of nowhere in S4

One of the most fascinating things to come out of S4 is people rightly picking up on the tension between will and mike and el, recognizing that something romantic was going on, but fully believing will was in love with eleven and that’s why he was crying and staring at mike in the desert. like I can’t even imagine that level of heteronormative restructuring, but that’s the way so many people’s minds work. People don’t think of queer stories because they just can’t relate…

Hello!

I particularly find this so sad, like I'm not even going to lie.

Like, how far heteronormativity goes and how it stops people from seeing things when they are clear and glaring. Like, don't they just want to see it so that they don't have to acknowledge it?

If so, is really terrible ngl.

I guess is hard for me to relate because my family isn't really conservative in most aspects (like watching with my dad was so interesting because during the van scene he explained to me that Will was talking about his own feelings and I was like I know, what do you take me for lmao?).

That's why I think next season will leave people bamboozled and is going to be interesting to witness, for sure.

#stranger things #byler #mike wheeler #will byers

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agalychnisspranneusroseus · 2 days ago

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I don't like complaining about S3 too much, it's kind of a bummer to focus on what I don't like when there's so much I love, but one thing that I can't help but feel disappointed by is how we never got to see the new Marcy.

We got to see the new Sasha all through S3, who is completely different from S1 and S2 Sasha, and she's such a wonderful and loveable person, you can't help but adore her. Peak girlfriend material. It makes her oddly homoerotic friendship with Anne so sweet! And Anne herself, as the literal star of the show, had her development front and center from day 1. All of S1 was about her growth, and while she still had some work to do in S2, by then she had already changed a lot. Much like Sasha, she goes from being a selfish little shit to becoming a noble, honorable young woman, driven by love and responsability, with the emotional intelligence necessary to face any challenges coming her way.

Marcy... doesn't get that chance. The content of her arc is fine - she realizes she was selfish and self-centered, she understands how that's wrong and she decides to be a better person. But when Sasha (and I'm comparing her to Sasha because Anne, as THE protagonist, is not a fair comparison) had like... all of season 2 to change and develop, and half of S3 to truly shine as her new, improved self, Marcy... well, she did get some development in S2, true - the First Temple and New Wartwood are important moments that come to mind, but...

Okay, so, we knew everything about Sasha's situation from the start. She's lying to the other characters but not to the audience, so everything she goes through in Toadcatches, Barrel's Warhammer, the Dinner, Battle of the Bands and True Colors is very visible to us. We see her going up and down and we always understand what's up with her. We get a very clear view into her mind. We know Sasha. Marcy, on the other hand, has been lying to the audience up until True Colors, so everything we knew about her prior to that has to be recontextualized given the new information, and what we inevitably conclude is that nothing she learned was enough to make her question her plan. She understood the concepts, but she didn't apply it to her particular situation. That's not a bad thing! She's just halfway through her arc - accepting the Truth without letting go of the Lie. But when so much of her arc is hidden from the audience and further recontextualized through more flashbacks near the finale, what we get is a very mysterious Marcy who tells us "everything you thought you knew is more complicated that it seemed", and given that this is the season finale, that set-up inevitably promises a deeper exploration of the REAL Marcy in S3. No more scheeming and lying and manipulating, just Marcy in real time, with no need for flashbacks to recontextualize things again.

But S3 gives us very few chances to see Marcy in Real Time. We see her in Olivia and Yunan, All In and The Hardest Thing. Three episodes. I'm not gonna complain about that because I think we all feel the same way. There's no need. But I will insist that a good solution would have been to have at least two or three episodes about Marcy inside the Core. The King and the Core should have been about Marcy uncovering that ancient information in Aldrich's memory without him noticing, for example. This would have been an improvement in several ways:

More Marcy screentime and development

More exploration on the nature of the Core

We have a present day character knowing all about the Box's lore, and it's not just Andrias randomly thinking about in with a vintage filter on.

Marcy having more agency inside the Core in general would have allowed her to fight back in some way, which would be necessary for another change I'd like to suggest below.

Other episodes could be about her "bonding" with Aldrich and slowly realizing he's delulu, her learning about some old Olm lore, and unlocking a secret that will help them later with like, Anne's powers or the Moon or something, and just... her thinking and realizing she fucked up. If the Core knows her memories, it could recreate a more prolongued scenario with Anne and Sasha, maybe a sleepover? In general, I think Marcy would need someone in there to bounce off of, whether it is a bad guy like Aldrich or lifeless projections of Anne and Sasha, or even someone in there that's actually on her side, sick of living forever in this fantasy, maybe.

She needs time to define her new, changed self after learning her lesson, just like Sasha got to do. Because we barely see who Marcy has become after the events of Amphibia. We got like... TWO scenes to tell us ANYTHING about it.

"No! Only a coward would hide away in this place! Well, I reject this sick fantasy, and I reject you!"

"Even if your friends win, your parents will still tear the three of you apart."

"I started this whole mess because I wanted to escape that reality, but I won't run away from it anymore!"

And later near the end:

"I came to this world thinking only of myself. It was wrong of me, and I wish I'd gotten to know you both better"

These are like... the only indicator of the person Marcy became in Amphibia. They're not worthless - she learned to be more aware of the people around her, and to be stronger in the face of change. Her final scene with Aldrich is her most confrontational scene in the show, and certainly her most angry one. Before, she'd only been like... mildly annoyed one time because Anne was being too overprotective, and she glared at Andrias for like two seconds during O&Y but didn't actually say anything. Marcy is not an angry person, and she does seem to be scared of conflict, so to slap Aldrich's hand away, call him a coward, and proudly raise her fist and declare she's done running makes her look much stronger, and I appreciate that. And she does pretty much declare she refuses to be a coward. But this isn't nearly enough. If I want to write fanfic about Marcy post-Amphibia, I shouldn't have to sit down to analyze these two moments to extrapolate what her characterization would have been like. It should be like with Sasha. We know exactly who the new Sasha is, but we never get to see the new Marcy shine. I think that's why her arc feels so rushed in comparison to Sasha, whose beginning of her arc arguably took up one 11 minutes episode, and the rest happened mostly off-screen: the new Sasha was radiant in S3B, even if we didn't see much of the transition.

I know that, due to structural reasons, Marcy wasn't going to have much screentime so they had to rush her arc quite a bit, and while my suggestion to give her more time inside the Core stands, I think that's not enough either. I think she needs time to interact with Anne and Sasha, and also King Andrias, her Amphibia friend. It's hard to think of a solution to this problem given the way the finale is structured, but my first idea is to make it longer: The Beginning of the End stays the same, All In stays the same except for the way Marcy is released: instead of just, cutting a cable, Sasha needs to reach her with the Power of Friendship. Think something like the Running Up That Hill scene from Stranger Things, or the Toothless Found scene from HTTYD2

youtube

Because we can't miss a chance to develop Sasha and Marcy's relationship here. AND since they both share the roles of the Betrayer, the Liar, the Manipulator, of Anne's toxic friend in the path of redemption, it's poetic that Sasha, who has held Marcy under her thumb for years, is the one to help her break free, not through brute force like in canon, but by actually putting into practice what she's learned. Kinda like how, in AtLA S3, Zuko is playing the role of group therapist to the rest of the Gaang. Sasha figured things out first, now she wants to help Marcy find redemption too. Make it a callback to Anne's little speech from TBOTE

"It's not easy. Forgiveness is hard, and it can take time. But believe me: it's worth it. I mean, just look at what you and I have now."

Because redemption isn't easy. It's hard, and it can take time. But you still need to show up, even when you think they don't want you, even when you think you ruined everything. Getting up to so the right thing is always worth it.

Of course, if we want Sasha to save Marcy, a little bit of previous development wouldn't hurt. What if we add a little episode in S3A about the girls all thinking about each other? Anne finding a copy of War of the Warlocks that Marcy forgot in her house, Sasha being reminded of Marcy while helping Maddie with curses for the resistance, and Marcy just... thinking about them, in general, while in the Core. A simple 11 minutes segment, 3 minutes and a half of screentime for each of them. You don't need much, just a moment for them to explore their conflicting feelings for each other.

But then... then, we still need to see Marcy - the new Marcy - interact with her friends, so let's add one or two more episodes to the finale, between All In and The Hardest Thing. Maybe we can shift the Olms storyline here? Would that mess with the pacing too much? Tbh the writers did put themselves in a predicament with Marcy, so it's hard to find a perfect solution. I guess we can keep the tension if the moon is falling veeeeeery slowly, giving our girls just enough time for one more quick adventure together while not making it feel like they're taking their sweet time. So we have one or two extra episodes, and what do we do here?

We challenge Marcy. Just like how Sasha was challenged in Commander Anne, Marcy has to prove she's changed too. Tempt her with her past self-centeredness, her possessive instincts, the easy way in which she lies to herself, her impulse to plan around Anne and Sasha and not with them, hiding important information. Her fear of change. She knows what she needs to do, and she's ready to sit with the uncomfortable feeling of change instead of rejecting it immediately. Maybe she has to let Joe Sparrow go, for example, to be with other sparrows or something, idk. Whatever it is, it needs to be an opportunity to show her newfound emotional maturity. Show how, just like Anne and Sasha before her, she became a more noble person, one who, from now on, is honest, selfless and brave. One who embraces change, and who may even seek it out, because she understands this is how you grow.

Anyway. Yeah, that. I guess I'm just disappointed we never got to see the person Marcy became, but at least it's not hard to extrapolate it from what little the show gave us. We're not 100% in the dark. Though it's not nearly enough. If they ever give us more Amphibia, it would be awesome to see more of this new Marcy, but until then, we have a beautiful community here of galaxy brained people to put the pieces together 🥰

#amphibia #marcy wu #my posts #marcy wu meta #marcy wu character analysis

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d3vils-island · 2 days ago

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Hi, can you write about reader and Dave where they're in a dinner with her parents, she says sum like "daddy, can you pass me the salt?" or anything like that, and both her father and Dave grab the salt? Thanks!

Sorry for my bad english and if this is very cliche too

Not gonna lie, at first I thought this idea was garbage, but then I actually started writing it and I literally fell in love with it. Anyways, I apologize this is kinda late, I wasnt very moritvated to write recently, but I pushed through!! Also— I wasn’t sure if you wanted it to be a smut… so I made it one just in case… I HOPE YOU LIKE IT!! 🫶🫶😣🎀

Pass the Salt (82’)

• * • * • * • * • * • * • * • * • * • * • * • * • * • * • * •

Dave Mustaine x Fem!reader

2,060 words

- - - - -

Description: Your parents are convinced that your boyfriend Dave is a terrible person and he’ll break your heart. To convince them otherwise, you invite Dave over to your parents for dinner to clear the air. That is, until everything just gets worse.

Warnings: PORN W/ PLOT! (as always, I’ll mark with three “^” when the smut starts), daddy kink, rough sex, second hand embarrassment, oral (female receiving) blah blah blah basically all the good shit about sex.

• * • * • * • * • * • * • * • * • * • * • * • * • * • * • * •

Dave and you had been in a relationship ship for years now, and it was no secret. However, despite your passionate love for one another, your parents kept trying to find you someone else since they— to put it lightly,— hated him. You tried your best to convince them otherwise, but their minds were already made up.

To try and convince them Dave was all good and no bad— or at least very little bad— you decided to have him eat dinner with you and your parents.

You showed up to your parents house a bit before Dave so you could help them with the set up, and talk your parents into being kind to Dave despite their hatred towards him.

“He’s not good for you sweetie… he’s an alcoholic-druggie-outcast who will eventually break your heart.” Your father said while your mom nodded her head in agreement. “Is there seriously no one else out there you could date instead of him?” You mother said concerned.

“Look guys, I appreciate your worry… but I love Dave, and he loves me. He would never break my heart.” You responded, continuing to set up the table for dinner. Your mother gave you a look, almost as if she was saying ‘mother knows best’, but in this case, she didn’t know anything when it came to how much you and Dave loved each other.

Once you finished setting up the table, you walked over to your parents. “Please, just… don’t make anything awkward, and Atleast pretend to like him, just for tonight.” You pleaded, and they both nodded their heads.

Suddenly, a knock could be heard at the door. “Coming!” You yelled, running up to the door and opening it.

“Davie!” You squealed, embracing him in a tight hug. You invited him in, but the entire time he was walking next to you, you felt your parent’s eyes on him, looking with disgust.

Dave offered his help, to which your mother kindly took. He started helping out with the cooking while you all chatted.

“So, what do you do for work?” Your father asked. “Well currently, I work at a gas station a few miles from here.” He smiled. “Interesting.” Your father commented, and you could feel his hatred for Dave grow by the second. You just prayed that nothing would happen that would cause them to hate Dave any more than they do now.

A few minutes later, and the food was prepared. You helped bring stuff to the dining room table, and eventually you all sat down, digging in.

Your heart was pounding in your chest, and the awkward silence wasn’t helping. You eyed your parents and they seemed to mind their business, but you were so scared of what they were thinking.

You tried to distract yourself from the situation by paying more attention to the food on your plate. You took a bite, but it wasn’t quite to your satisfaction.

“Daddy, can you pass the salt?” You asked.

Two hands instinctively reached over to the little glass container of salt at the table, bumping into each other before backing away. “Sorry sir.” Dave said, before he quickly grabbed the salt and handed it to you before your ‘actual daddy’ could.

It was like the universe heard your cry for help, the cry for things to not get any worse, and said ‘fuck you’ then did the complete opposite of what you asked.

Dave set the little container next to you on the table as you burried your face in your hands. You peeked an eye out between your fingers and saw Dave, a big smirk plastered over his dumb face. Then you glanced over at your father, who looked like a pot that was about to boil over.

The awkward silence continued, and you eventually took your face out from your hands, putting the salt all over your food.

Dave tried to start up a conversation, but there was no saving what had already been done. God, you just wish this night would be over.

- - - - -

Eventually, you all finished your food. Dave aided in the cleanup, before he finally went off on his way. You chatted with your parents for a bit , but left shortly after before deciding to go over to Dave’s house.

You knocked on the door before coming in, looking over and seeing him in the couch watching TV. He instantly grabbed the remote and muted it, paying attention to you.

“That was a total disaster!” You yelled, walking in front of the couch and sitting next to him as he wrapped one of his arms around you.

“C’mon, it wasn’t that bad… I thought it went well.” He rubbed small circles on your shoulder with his thumb.

“Are you serious? I say ‘pass the salt daddy’ and you reach for it!” Dave just let out a deep laugh, covering his face with his free hand.

“I can’t lie, that was hilarious to see his reaction-” He paused, looking you in the eyes. “-and I technically wasn’t lying, since I am your daddy…just in the bedroom.” God, you wanted to just strangle him right here and now so he’d shut up.

“Dave, seriously. Stop it.” You stated, but you couldn’t help but feel a smile start to crawl upon your lips, tugging the corner of your mouth upward.

“You’re right baby…” he took a breath, fixing his posture so he was leaning over you more. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have done that. I’m sure everything with your parents will be fine.” He leaned down and gently pressed his lips against yours, moving them in sync softly. You parted for a second.

“I can’t even think of a time I called you ‘daddy’” you giggled. “I can remember a few… maybe you were just so clouded by the pleasure you were getting to remember.” Dave smiled smugly as your face heated up.

“Oh hush.” You playfully slapped his chest.

^ ^ ^

He leaned down again to kiss you, this time he grabbed your jaw and pulled you deeper into the kiss. “How bout I make you call me daddy again, and this time you actually remember it.” He chuckled.

“You can try.” You challenged him.

“Fine by me.” He suddenly picked you up bridal style, carrying you to the bedroom and tossing you roughly on the bed. You couldn’t lie, you loved when he was rough with you.

“Don’t hold back then.” You eyed him as he crawled on top of you.

“Trust me, I wasn’t planning on it.” His hands started roaming your body. Under your shirt, over your neck, across your thighs. Every time he touched you, you felt a fire of lust burn brighter and brighter in your chest. You stared sliding your top off, and he followed along, taking his own clothes off before you two were eventually stripped to your undergarments.

Your bare skin against the cold air made you shiver, just before Dave’s warm hands started groping your body again. He leaned down and kissed you, your tongues tangling together. With each second that passed, you felt a heat between your legs grow. You started rubbing your thighs together to get some sort of friction, hoping Dave wouldn’t notice your eagerness, but he did.

“You’re already so needy and we just started…” he groaned, gripping your knees and spreading your legs apart. His rough hands slid closer to your cunt as he placed his thumb against the soaked fabric that was your panties, rubbing small circles against your heat. The sensation was just enough to cause you to whine, but not enough to make you feel good. “Fuck… I need you…” you groaned out. Dave took his thumb away from the thin fabric, before her slid it up to your shoulders, snapping your bra strap against your sensitive skin. He pinched the fabric and slowly slid it off your shoulders, then he reached behind your back and unclasped your bra, sliding it off and tossing it to the side before he began massaging your breasts. He planted soft kissed on your chest, before they quickly turned into harsh bites; which would definitely leave marks.

His kisses trailed down your stomach as his hand slid to your hips, taking your underwear off before he lifted your thighs on top of his shoulders. His head found its way right between your legs as he began planting kisses on your inner thigh and rubbing circles on it with his thumb. He waisted no time as he began sucking on your clit while his fingers dove into your sopping pussy. The sudden pleasure caused you to nearly suffocate Dave with your legs, but he used his free hand to hold one of your thighs to the side.

You started mumbling nonsense, too clouded by the sudden pleasure to think straight. “Hmm?” Dave questioned your muffled rambling. “Fuck-! Don’t stop…” you whined. “That’s not what I wanted to hear,” he stopped giving attention to your throbbing cunt, looking up at your ecstasy-drunken face.

“Don’t stop… daddy..” you muttered, feeling your heart race at the nickname.

“That’s my girl.”

Dave immediately started eating you out like you where his last meal, licking and sucking his plate clean. Your body was shaking, and your grip on Dave’s hair only got tighter. However, as soon as he felt your legs tremble too much and your moans get louder, he stopped in his tracks and placed your legs back down on the bed.

“Not yet baby.” He hushed your pleads for release. His hands suddenly gripped your hips and turned around so your head was buried in the pillows with your ass up; just how he liked it. You heard the sound of fabric rustling before something was tossed to the corner of the room.

Dave’s tip teased your entrance as his hands had a harsh grip on your hips, thumb rubbing a circular motion on it. Dave leaned down to your ear, and you felt his hot breath against you.

“Ready?” He cooed, and before you could even respond, you felt his entire cock get slammed into you. Your back arched and your nails dug into the sheets, your loud moans being muffled as your head was buried in the pillows while Dave began fucking you relentlessly. The sounds of the bed creaking, skin slapping against skin, and your moaning filled the room. Each time Dave pounded into you, you felt him go deeper and deeper, kissing that spot inside of you that made your back arch more with every one of his thrusts.

His thrusts were consistent, fast, and hard, just how you liked. Dave moved some of your hair off the back of your neck, leaning down and planting sweet, timid kisses along your spine, in contrast to his rough and powerful thrusts. You never thought you’d scream the name daddy, until tonight, when Dave had your back arched and nails digging into the plush cloth of the bed.

Dave’s caring kisses turned into harsh bites as he sucked and bit at your neck, definitely leaving marks. You suddenly felt a string tighten in your abdomen, signaling that your release was near. You felt Dave’s thrusts get sloppier, his grip on you tightening as his release was also approaching.

“Oh fuck, Daddy!” You whined as Dave’s fingernails dug into your pretty and soft skin, leaving red marks. You felt the string tighten even more, threatening to snap at any second.

The little string inside you finally tore, and you felt a wave of pure ecstasy and pleasure wash over you. Your whole body was trembling and your breath was staggered. Dave slowed his thrusts down and pulled out, stroking himself before you felt a hot liquid spill on your back. Dave muttered something to you, but you were too drowned in pleasure to hear what he said. A minute later, he showed up with a towel in his hands and he began wiping your back down. You hazily looked up at Dave and he had a reassuring smile on his face as he tossed the towel to the side, pulling you under the covers with him.

“I hope I wasn’t too rough.” He whispered to you as he stroked your hair.

“Not at all, if anything, you could have gone a bit rougher.” You both laughed.

“I’ll keep that in mind for next time.”

#megadeth x reader #dave mustaine #megadeth #dave mustaine x reader #dave mustaine smut #megadeth smut #pwp #smut #megadeth fanfiction #dave mustaine fanfiction

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starlost-mochi-x · 3 days ago

Text

lonely st. ✧ chapter iv : falling

pairing: hwang hyunjin x reader (y/n)

warnings: lonely reader, school!au, hyunjin's knees are finally healing, someone else is kinda mean to y/n, swearing, descriptions of panic attacks and forced isolation, hyunjin is the sweetest softest boy ever

a/n: ...this took a while

series masterlist | skz masterlist

"Yah, Hyunjin, what the fuck did you do to your knees?"

Hyunjin looked across at Jisung, pulling his basketball jersey on.

"Oh," he said calmly. "I fell."

Jisung tutted at him, waggling a finger in Hyunjin's face. They were the last three boys in the changing rooms, having been split into smaller teams for longer, more individualized training. Felix watched the interaction with interest, piping up.

"You fall over a lot, you know," he observed. "Surprisingly often for the school's star basketball player."

Hyunjin rolled his eyes, turning back to his locker, tying the cords of his shorts. His gaze flitted down to his knees, where he'd stuck the bandaids Y/n had given him. They were quite sticky considering the designs; Hyunjin had seen Jisung buy colourful bandaids that didn't last more than ten minutes.

Two of the bandages were stuck to his left knee, one yellow with a smiley face across it, and the other solid stripes of light pink and purple, like a Cheshire cat. The one on his right knee was lime green, with solid black writing that detailed 'I'M OKAY' in wobbly writing. He loved them so much.

The fourth bandaid he'd stuck to his face, replacing the little chicken one that had peeled off. It was white, with a little pink and black spider in the middle, his favourite one so far. Truthfully, the little cut on his cheekbone had practically healed by now and didn't need anything covering it, but Hyunjin liked wearing the bandaids. It made him feel connected to Y/n, and he felt brighter somehow, as if he was one of her colourful keychains or pins.

Shaking his head, he turned back to Jisung and Felix with a smile. "Just a clumsy spell, I guess. It should heal before the championship."

Felix side-eyed him from his own locker. "It better. Jisung is hopeless on offense-"

"I'm not!"

Hyunjin let a small laugh escape his mouth. He looked across at his friends, neatly folding his uniform and placing it neatly on the shelf. He paused in his actions.

Jisung was holding his shirt above Felix's head, clearly attempting to hit him, the other boy's arms braced against his temples. They were both frozen, staring at Hyunjin with gaping mouths.

Hyunjin blinked, cutting himself off. "You know, I- what?"

Jisung whispered. "You laughed."

Hyunjin frowned. "What? Is it illegal now?"

Felix scrambled up from his position. "No, no, it's just- you've been so downcast lately. We thought something was really wrong."

Jisung chimed in. "Yeah. First it was the falling over at practice, then the being distracted during class. We were pretty worried, dude."

Hyunjin felt a little guilty at having worried his friends. His cheeks flushed and the bandaids on his knees and face suddenly felt like burning beacons. Jisung had promised not to tell anyone about his attempts to befriend Y/n, but he hadn't approved or disapproved of it. And Felix was a close friend too, but Hyunjin felt there would always be a possibility that they might not like it. Either that, or they would think he liked her. Most likely the second option.

His voice was quiet as he awkwardly rubbed the back of his head. "I just felt stressed the last few days. I've just had a lot to do."

Felix's eyes narrowed. "You're literally never busy...?"

Panic set into Hyunjin's gut, frantic and buzzing. He stuttered a little, trying to come up with a quick lie to fool his friend.

"It's because of Y/n," Jisung blurted out suddenly.

Hyunjin threw his hands up in exasperation. "Jisung! I told you not to say anything!"

Felix's eyes bounced between them. He walked closer to Hyunjin, his gaze confused. "Y/n? You mean the weird loner girl in our class? The one who always disappears at breaktimes?"

"She's not weird," Hyunjin snapped at him, voice echoing in the locker room.

Felix's eyes widened a little, clearly taken aback. Jisung shut his mouth immediately, his friend's unusual outburst blanketing the room in a thick, heavy silence.

"You don't have to be such a jerk, Felix," Hyunjin flared at him again, well aware of the nastiness in his voice.

"Alright, man. Sorry."

Felix's voice was quiet, subdued, and Hyunjin felt a rush of remorse settle heavily in his stomach, the feeling sour in his mouth. He exhaled and sat down on the bench, leaning his elbows on his knees.

"I'm sorry," he said quietly. "Just- she's not weird."

Felix gingerly sat down next to him. He was shirtless, having been halfway through taping his shoulder, and Hyunjin could feel the heat radiating off his skin. Felix placed a gentle hand on his shoulder as Jisung moved to sit down on his other side.

"I didn't mean it, Hyunjin," Felix's voice was soft, almost a whisper.

Hyunjin exhaled, running a hand through his dark, sleek hair. "It's fine. Just- she's not mean and intense and cold like everyone thinks she is. She gave me the chicken bandaid after I fell that time at practice, and all of these too." He gestured to his knees.

"I was wondering where you got those from," Felix chuckled, touching the one on his friend's face. "They're cute. Did you ask her for them?"

"No," Hyunjin replied softly, the ghost of a smile on his face. "She noticed both times and gave them to me. Felix, you don't understand, she's really sweet. Maybe a bit shy and awkward, but not cold. Not at all."

Felix smiled across at Jisung as Hyunjin talked. Jisung pouted cutely, pressing a hand discreetly to his heart in an 'aww' gesture.

"I wonder if she carries them around," Jisung said thoughtfully. "Maybe she's clumsy just like you, Hyunjin."

Hyunjin nodded silently in response. Now that he thought of it, he couldn't actually recall seeing her wear any of the colourful bandaids, not even on her hands or under the hem of her skirt. He wondered what she could possibly need them for.

Jisung leaned his head against Hyunjin's shoulder as Felix spoke up.

"Are you gonna get mad at me if I ask if you maybe, possibly, sort of like her?"

Hyunjin shook his head. "No, I don't. But there's no harm in being her friend. I don't know her that well, like, at all, but if I can make her life a little easier, then I should."

Jisung smiled. "That's sweet, dude. Maybe, once you get closer with her, we could start talking to her too."

Felix grinned, agreeing.

"Thanks," Hyunjin said softly. "I'm just going to be cautious around her from now on because I don't want to scare her off again. But maybe, once she opens up a little bit."

Jisung stood up, slapping his friend on the back. "Alright, that's settled, then. Let's go out to practice now. Oh, and Hyunjin, don't worry us like that again, man... It was weird not hearing your 1000 decibel laugh."

Hyunjin rolled his eyes, Felix snickering in the background.

"Don't worry," he said. "I won't."

Y/n kept her head down as she weaved throughout the students laughing and shouting in the hallways. The corridors were always busiest at lunchtimes. She ducked her head to avoid a tall senior who was wildly gesturing his arms in an animated retelling to his friend.

Looking behind her to make sure she wasn't about to get hit in the head, Y/n came up short just as she almost bumped headlong into Yeji. Her heart sank.

"Hey!" she greeted, smiling. "Haven't seen you in a while."

Y/n's fingers tightened around her sketchbook, fingers digging into the smooth, sticker-bombed surface. She gulped, palms beginning to sweat as she stared at Yeji. She'd been friends with her for almost three years, and there were not grudges between them, but for some reason Y/n found she couldn't reply.

"Um, yeah," she replied rather stiffly.

Yeji tilted her head, waving a hand in Y/n's face. "Helloooo? Anyone home?" She giggled.

Y/n flinched as Yeji's perfectly manicured hand waved in her face. She felt a searing pang of frustration and irritation shoot through her. Stepping back, she clutched her sketchbook to her chest, not knowing how to get out of the situation. The air around her suddenly felt hotter, and her shoulders were tense, like stretched rubber bands.

"Hey, Y/n!"

Y/n let out a tiny, gasping breath as Hyunjin jogged up to them. His hair was mussed and slightly slick, his tie loose and shirtsleeves rolled up messily. He must have come straight from playing basketball on the courts. Y/n saw Yeji subconsciously reach up to fix her hair, drawing a pale, pretty hand through the dark orange locks, pressing her lips together to even out the sparkly pink gloss smeared across them.

But Hyunjin paid her no mind, his smile directing its force towards Y/n. She noticed a textbook under his arm.

He tilted his head at her, inviting. "Did you wanna go to the library?"

Y/n was taken aback. There was a look in Hyunjin's eyes, some sort of layer to them that Y/n had never seen before. They were sort of slitted, his eyebrows slightly raised.

He's trying to get me out of the situation, she realised.

"S-sure," she stuttered, cursing herself inwardly.

Hyunjin gave Yeji an effortless smile and gestured for Y/n to walk alongside him. Yeji's smile dropped as he walked a few paces past her to Y/n.

Dropping her head, Y/n shuffled to him and he began to make casual, friendly conversation as they walked down the hallway. clearly attempting to distract her.

Yeji glared after them.

Hyunjin glanced across at Y/n as she slumped down into her usual seat, the table hidden from the rest of the library by the tall, slightly dusty shelves. He sat down delicately next to her, shuffling his chair a little bit away from her so as to give her space.

Her head was down on the desk and Hyunjin sunk his teeth into his bottom lip, wondering if he'd messed things up. But she hadn't looked exactly comfortable when he'd seen her talking to Yeji. He'd calmly observed from a distance, until Yeji had waved her hand in Y/n's face.

He knew she probably meant no harm, but it was clear that Y/n was beginning to panic after she flinched, so he had jogged up to her to try and give her an excuse to leave.

Hyunjin wondered if Y/n and Yeji were really friends. He'd seen them together a few times, talking, usually in a group with Ha-eun, Aeri, and Sangmi, but for some reason Y/n always seemed like she wasn't enjoying herself, usually quietly listening to the others talk excitedly or with her face buried in her sketchbook.

Hyunjin frowned a little, running his fingertips along the side of his closed textbook. If she had friends, why did she choose to be alone? Were they bullying her?

"Hey," he whispered. "You okay?"

He could hear tiny, short gasps coming from her side of the table and he fidgeted desperately, not sure what to do. He was pretty sure she was panicking. He'd heard Jisung do the same thing a couple times, usually after really important basketball matches. But he didn't understand why it happened, or what it was. Jisung kept it quiet, and Hyunjin didn't wish to intrude, so he'd patted his friend on the back and fetched his coach.

Then he had left.

You can't do that to Y/n, Hyunjin thought. I can't leave her, but I'm afraid if I stay, I might make it worse.

He scooted his chair just a tiny bit closer, keeping note of her breathing. His hand hovered unsurely over her back, wanting to offer some sort of comfort. Jisung had told him that different people liked to be comforted in different ways. He wondered how Y/n preferred to be treated when she was upset. He made a mental note to ask her later.

Leaning down to her level, Hyunjin placed one arm on the table, turning his head towards her. He exhaled and the warm breath stirred Y/n's hair. She didn't move. Hyunjin could see one hand pressed to her mouth, covering it. The other was hidden by her blazer lapel, pressed against her chest. Her knee was bouncing up and down rapidly and Hyunjin bit his lip, reaching out a feather-light hand to gently still it. Her knee stopped bouncing.

Hyunjin whispered to her worriedly. "Y/n, are you sick?"

A slight shake of the head. Hyunjin looked around for someone who could help, but he couldn't see past the library shelves. He stood up slowly, bending down to whisper to her.

"I'm gonna go find someone, okay?" He told her determinedly. "They can help-"

"No," she whimpered, almost inaudibly.

Hyunjin's eyes widened. Sitting down again, he leant close to her. Her hand, much smaller than his, moved to grip his wrist. It didn't even go all the way round. Hyunjin blinked, taken aback, but Y/n's tiny, hiccupping voice directed his attention to her instantly.

"Don't leave me," she gasped, a tiny sob leaving her mouth. Her head was still down on the desk. "Hyunjin, don't go, please-"

Hyunjin's brow creased in worry and he couldn't hold himself back any longer. Placing a gentle arm around her, he shuffled closer and leaned his head on the table next to hers.

"It's okay," he said as comfortingly as he could. "I won't leave. Just try and breathe, okay?"

He suddenly became aware that telling her to breathe wasn't really helpful advice, but he didn't know what else to do. What were you supposed to do when things like this happened? Was he supposed to stay? What was he supposed to say to her?

Tears pricked at the corners of Hyunjin's eyes.

Help her, Hyunjin. Do something.

Not knowing what else to do, he quietly began telling her about his day. About how he had to do his homework while the teacher was collecting it because basketball practice ran late last night and he didn't have time. About how he had seen Jisung, his friend, inhale half his food the second the bell went so he could go talk to a girl he liked from his English class.

"They spent literally the whole first breaktime flirting," he told her quietly. "My friend Felix had to grab him by his collar because we all share a class. Jisung always makes us late."

Hyunjin fought a relieved smile as he saw Y/n turn her head just a little, indicating she was listening. Her breathing was evening out and Hyunjin kept talking in a low, reassuring voice until he was positive she had calmed down completely.

"We had practice again this morning, and championships are soon, so we got split up into teams. Coach also told me after practice that he liked my bandaids. See?"

Y/n turned her head a little more as he shuffled back in his chair, facing his legs towards her. He pointed to the lime green one on his right knee, with the 'I'M OKAY' wobbly black writing.

"That one's my favourite," he said softly, sincerely. He pointed to the pink and purple striped one. "And this one reminds me of you, because it's like your bag, all these cool, colourful pins and keyrings."

He tapped his cheek, where the white bandaid with the pink and black spider symbol was stuck. "This one's my favourite, so I put it on my cheek. The cut's actually healed now, but I like it. I feel all decorated."

Y/n lifted her head slightly, a tiny sniff coming from her. He still couldn't see her face, so he brought his arm up a little, giving her comfort. He knew people didn't like to be seen crying.

"Hey," he whispered to her sincerely. "Are you feeling a little bit better?"

She nodded, lifting her head. There were tear stains down her cheeks, and her nose and eyes were red. Hyunjin dug in his pocket and produced a tissue, handing it to her. He always carried them around, finding them useful at random times, but he'd been secretly keeping one in his pocket in case his new friend needed it.

He silently congratulated himself as Y/n took the tissue with a tiny nod of thanks.

"I'm sorry," she whispered.

Hyunjin met her eyes with a soft, worried gaze. "Why would you be sorry?"

"I wasted your time and now you have to sit here with me while I be a drama queen and cry-"

Hyunjin cut her off determinedly. "No, Y/n... I saw you were uncomfortable, and I did it because of that, but also..." His cheeks flushed, feeling warm. "I wanted to spend time with you." He finished quietly, admitting.

Y/n's gaze flitted to him, confused. She sniffed. "Why?"

He smiled back, a little embarrassed, but intent on telling her his intentions.

"It's actually really nice here. Besides, sometimes I don't feel like hanging out with my friends Jisung and Felix, or playing basketball, or talking at all, to be honest. Especially when I'm tired. But I always did it anyway because I didn't have anywhere else to go during lunchtimes."

He poked her shoulder gently, smiling. "And now I do, and I've got a new friend to do it with as well. Or classmate, who likes talking to me... At least I hope you do."

Y/n looked anywhere but him, feeling that strange, warm feeling settle in her stomach again. For some unknown reason it only happened around the dark-haired basketballer.

Hyunjin let out a little cheer of joy just as a tiny, reluctant smile cracked Y/n's mask.

Felix turned to Hyunjin as they walked down the little path leading to the bus stop. Jisung was walking ahead, seemingly in a better mood than usual; for Felix and Hyunjin, that meant supervising him while he bounced off the walls and stole random leaves off the trees on the sidewalk.

Felix huffed and called out a warning to Jisung who had almost tripped up ahead, before turning to Hyunjin.

"You catching the bus with us today?"

Hyunjin shook his head. "I found out that me and Y/n pretty much live really close, and we both go down the same street, so I asked her to walk with me like I did yesterday."

Felix grinned. "Seems like she's coming around."

"I hope so," he said quietly. "Sorry about leaving you with Jisung. I think he had one of those sugary energy drinks earlier between classes."

Felix rolled his eyes. "I'll be lucky if I get him onto the bus without him tripping and starting a fire of some sort."

Hyunjin laughed and squeezed his friend's arm just as the bus rolled up. He waited until Felix and Jisung had both entered and sat down, then he began turning and walking back the way he'd came. He'd asked Y/n to come with him while he walked his friends to the bus stop, but she had shyly declined, shaking her head before he had even finished his question. She seemed avoidant of being around large groups of people, Hyunjin observed.

She'd settled to wait at the school gates while he had walked the short distance to the bus stop. Looking up, she noticed Hyunjin approaching with a smile.

"Hey," he greeted. "Thanks for waiting for me."

Y/n nodded and they began to walk in silence. Hyunjin kept up a constant stream of cheerful chatter as they walked, skipping over stones. They passed the spot where Hyunjin had fallen and scraped his knees, and Y/n took his arm cautiously, eliciting a small, affectionate smile from the boy.

Reaching the willow tree, Hyunjin rounded the corner, gesturing for Y/n to follow him with a smile. She tilted her head in confusion.

"Let's go for a while longer, down to the shops," he told her. He hurriedly corrected himself at her expression. "Y-you don't have to. If you want to, though...? It doesn't have to be for long-"

Y/n nodded solemnly. "Okay."

Hyunjin let out a breath of relief as they continued walking. It felt new and different walking past the usual route to his house. He glanced sideways at Y/n, who was busy looking up at the sky. He let one of his hands fall from his pocket and dangle at his side so he could catch her just in case she fell. Looking down at the pavement as they walked towards the shops, he let his other hand fall from his pocket too, mistrusting his own steps, though he was being as careful as he could.

He had enough bandaids on his body already.

Y/n's phone buzzed. Setting her sketchbook down, and slightly jarred at the interruption, she crawled across the bed and picked it up from the bedside. Turning the screen on, and hissing at the brightness, she slammed it down on the pillow.

Staying up late at night was one of Y/n's favourite things to do. It was the reason her eyes were always dark and strained, but the night brought a peace and serenity the daylight could never give her. She'd been sketching in her pad by the light of a little pocket torch when her phone had gone off.

Sighing and turning the torch off, she squeezed her eyes shut tight, adjusting them, before picking up her phone once more. Swiping into her home screen, she noticed several message notifications. Her heart jolted unpleasantly.

It was none other than Yeji. The last message had been sent a minute ago.

yeji 🌷: you up?

Y/n gulped before texting back.

y/n ⛓️: yeah y/n ⛓️: what's wrong? it's late yeji 🌷: i was just wondering something... i couldn't sleep so i thought i'd ask you anyway. sorry if i woke you y/n ⛓️: no, it's okay. what is it? yeji 🌷: today, when we were talking... you and hyunjin yeji 🌷: are you dating him?

Y/n buried her face in her pillow, letting out a muffled groan. She knew this was bound to happen. Not that she didn't appreciate Hyunjin's help for getting her out of the situation. She had no clue why she had become so upset when she'd run into Yeji. Maybe it was the fact that Yeji was smart, pretty, funny, loved by most of the girls in their grade. She was just so normal.

Y/n was well aware that she had no reason to really hate Yeji. After all, they were friends.

Then why did Yeji irritate her so much?

y/n ⛓️: what makes you say that? yeji 🌷: you guys have been hanging out a lot lately... yeji 🌷: i didn't think he would be into someone like you

Y/n frowned, turning the screen off suddenly. What did she mean, 'someone like her'? Someone as quiet or lonely as she was? Someone who was the outcast of the school?

She turned the screen back on, flicking into the messages.

y/n ⛓️: we're not dating yeji 🌷: then why does he keep talking to you? y/n ⛓️: because he's my friend, and he's in most of my classes too. why? yeji 🌷: just wondering, haha

Huffing, Y/n glared at Yeji's reply message. Just wondering, totally. Anticipating an argument building, Y/n exhaled before typing out a final message.

y/n ⛓️: my phone's about to die. sorry.

Then she turned it off.

Hyunjin absentmindedly tossed his basketball between his hands, watching as the sunlight cast patterns across the vibrant orange material. It was pretty early, with some students milling through the halls, but mostly the corridors were empty. Basketball practice had finished pretty early that morning. His knees were healing well, and he was feeling ready and prepared for the upcoming championship matches.

Jisung and Felix had stayed behind to run some training drills. Hyunjin knew that 'training drills' meant messing around and trying to hang from the hoops by their arms while their coach wasn't there. He appreciated the opportunity to quietly walk by himself nonetheless, smiling as he thought of the way Jisung would excitedly tell him about the morning's antics in form class.

Turning a corner, he ran directly into someone, dropping the basketball in surprise.

"Yeji," he said, blinking. "Sorry, I didn't see you."

She grinned at him, teasing. "Am I that short, Mr. Hwang?"

Hyunjin chuckled. Him and Yeji were somewhat close, having been in the same inner circle of their old friend group before it had eventually split. Hyunjin went with the boys on his basketball team and Yeji stuck with the other girls, some of which he'd seen with Y/n. Or around her, to be more specific. They usually ignored her, chatting excitedly, while she was left in the dust. Maybe they thought that there was no need to talk to her unless she talked first. The thought made his fingers tighten around the basketball as he moved to pick it up.

"Haven't seen you in a while, Yeji."

She smiled back, clearly pleased to have ran into him. "Yeah. How's basketball?"

"Good." They began walking down the hallways in silence. Yeji was seemingly expectant, and Hyunjin wondered if there was a group event or hangout he'd missed that she was about to pester him about. Maybe she was just waiting for his reply.

"So," Yeji began, eyes glinting as she looked up at Hyunjin. "You and Y/n, huh?"

There it is. Hyunjin fought the urge to roll his eyes as he replied.

"No, we're friends."

"That's what everyone says. Why else would you befriend her?"

Hyunjin stopped in his tracks, basketball slipping a little under his arm. He frowned at her. "What do you mean?"

Yeji flicked a long strand of orange hair behind her shoulder, looking up at him innocently. "I mean," she said breezily, "she's kind of an outcast."

Hyunjin fought the urge to snap at her, or throw his basketball in her face, or tug her hair out. Or all three, preferably. But he kept his cool with some effort, masking his anger with the fake guise of coughing suddenly. His breath suddenly caught in his throat and he actually started coughing.

Yeji placed a manicured hand on his back in concern, leaning closer to him.

"You okay?" she said gently, in concern that Hyunjin had a feeling was entirely fake and most likely an excuse to get closer to him.

"Yeah," he said wheezily, knocking a fist against his chest. "All good."

Yeji tilted her head and they kept walking. Hyunjin wanted nothing more than to slap her in the face, but something in his gut told him to play along and see what Yeji said.

"So, about Y/n," he started hesitantly. "What do you mean, 'why else would i befriend her'?"

Yeji sighed. "Hyunjin, literally no one likes her. I'm only friends with her because she hangs around me like a fly. I was just wondering why you were friends with her."

Hyunjin's mouth pressed into a thin line. Yeji had always been pretty upfront and honest with him. But it was still jarring listening to her admit that three years of friendship with Y/n had been a lie. That she was just a pity friend. Hyunjin was disgusted.

But he couldn't tell Yeji that. Otherwise she would tell everyone and perhaps make up a few lies along the way. He'd seen her do it to another guy from the soccer team and it hadn't ended well. He'd left the school.

"It's just that I need help to pass English this semester," he said to her as honestly as he could. It was surprisingly convincing, considering it was a complete lie. "She's pretty smart."

Yeji blinked up at him through long lashes. "Is that why you keep going to the library with her? So she can tutor you?"

Hyunjin nodded.

Yeji continued, a hint of suspicion in her voice. "Y/n's pretty socially dumb, but not that much. What did you offer her in return for the tutoring? I doubt she would've done it for free."

Hyunjin blurted out the first thing that came to his mind. "A date with me."

Yeji let out a short, high-pitched laugh. "No waaayyy, Hyunjin. That's so sneaky of you. I bet she didn't suspect a thing."

Hyunjin let out a short, forced laugh. "Yeah. I just really need to pass English, otherwise I might get kicked off the basketball team..."

They reached the end of the hallway. Yeji stopped and turned to him, tilting her head and smiling. "You don't have to rely on that loser to tutor you. I'm doing pretty well in English right now. I'll tutor you instead."

Panic seized Hyunjin's gut. "Oh, uhm- I'd hate to trouble you. Wouldn't wanna take up any of your time."

Yeji shook her head eagerly. "No, it's fine," she pulled out her phone and waved it in Hyunjin's face. "Text me a time and then you can come over to mine tonight, okay? It'll be fun."

Hyunjin had no choice but to nod. "Um, sure. I guess."

Yeji giggled, touching his arm. "And remember, this conversation stays between us. Don't tell your little friend Y/n, okay?"

Hyunjin nodded, forcing a smile onto his face.

"Sure, Yeji."

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usuallydeepalpaca-blog · 3 days ago

Text

Okay. My problem isn’t with the whole timeline, but the timeline of Armand’s involvement. So this is more or less why I think Armand got involved when Madeleine was turned. Also, forgive me for the length, disorganization, and poor grammar; I wrote it while tired.

The show obvs. wants us to assume that Armand made Louis hallucinate Sam guarding him in the theatre box (thus painting Armand as a "captive" along with Louis & Claudeleine).

I don’t think this is what the show wants us to assume. Sam, the writer of the play, and Armand, its director, were seated in the best position in the house to watch their hard work come to life. Sam wasn’t guarding Armand, that’s just what Louis assumed/preferred to think he was doing so he wouldn’t suspect the person he’d spent 70+ years with of having a much bigger role in the events that murdered his daughter.

Even if Armand didn't use the Mind Gift on Louis, he lied at least twice: lies by omission: letting Louis think a hallucination of Sam was real

Not a hallucination. Louis remembering Sam being in two places at once served to show us holes in his story that he probably wouldn’t catch because maybe it’s been too long or he wants to believe a particular version of events, e.g. Lestat telepathically telling him to stop staring at the tractor salesman despite the fledgling-maker relationship making this type of communication impossible.

When Daniel points out the inconsistency of the memory of Sam’s role in the trial, Louis experiences cognitive dissonance, because Armand has told him and most likely wants to believe that his companion of 77 years was also a victim. To resolve this dissonance, Louis ends up blaming himself by saying he’s the one remembering things wrong.

lies to Louis' (& Daniel's) face: going along with the premise that he was Sam's "captive" & Armand sat there the whole time thinking of a way to rescue Louis

No argument from me here.

HOW can Lestat have showed Louis ANY memories during the Trial (inc. the Ep4 revisit), when Makers/Fledglings CANNOT read each other's minds???????

Did Lestat do this literally, or did he recount the events out loud from his point of view, and Louis remembered? Because Claudia saw/heard the same things: it’s why she told him that Lestat was doing the retelling to hurt him further and what made her get on her feet to mock the audience for believing him.

Armand has used Louis' obvious confusion to his advantage, just going along with whatever will make him look better & more sympathetic. Which ofc, is the exact same thing he does with the "Banishment" lie. "They gave me a choice...I could not prevent it" is the truth and a lie all rolled into one incredibly manipulative cocktail, cuz if it was just a simple matter of Armand selling Claudia out to save Louis, that would be one thing--but Armand KNEW the script planned LOUIS' death the whole time. The "seismic lie" about "Banishment" effs up Armand's whole defense.

No argument from me here either. I have thoughts about it, but from what the show has shown us, this is true.

Cuz Sam already wrote the script in April 1949 (and I said this is confusing, cuz if it's the WHOLE script, then this implies Lestat's half was written by then, too, and NOT in September after the Eiffel Tower crime--which means he was ALREADY in Paris & working with the coven; inc. Armand (which would also explain WHY Armand took Louis to the library so much--perhaps anticipating that Loustat would feel e/o's presence if Louis was around the theatre too much? But that doesn't explain Claudia)--omfg I'm confused). Wtvr--we KNOW that at some point b/t April & September 1949, Armand made his edits & directed the entire production--from Santiago to Lestat to Tuan's projections--ALL of it. And we know Tuan's projections started being made in June/July 1949. Armand KNEW Daniel had been given the OLD script from the archives, WITHOUT Armand's edits & directions, and LET Daniel AND Louis think that was the truth--

From the show, Santiago went to Louis’ apartment to find evidence they could nail him on. Before that, they didn’t really have anything to put Louis on trial: the maitre had given him dispensation from joining the coven; he’s not the one who turned a child. They could kill Claudia based on her being ‘deformed’ alone, and I think until Santiago knew about their killing of Lestat, that was the plan. So can we assume that Sam started writing the play in April 1949, but it was a meatless play, which is why Santiago went looking for something and ended up finding Claudia’s diaries in June/July, a time when Armand was heavily distracted because Louis had committed to a companionship with him.

SN: the importance of the companionship to Armand - Armand says he went along with the coven because he couldn’t count on Louis’ love lasting. This would track with the assumption that he was involved from the very start, before Louis committed himself to a companionship with him. It’s honestly better than what he says, that he got involved the night of Claudia’s turning, which I think isn’t supported by anything we saw on the show.

But, we’ve seen Armand distracted and unable to use his powers in Dubai, like when Rashid and Daniel lie to him about what went on in the restaurant, or when Rashid brought Daniel a fat-ass newspaper, or when Daniel was plotting to reveal everything at the table. The only person who used mind reading often in Dubai was Louis, not Armand. Now, maybe it was the show not knowing what to do with Armand since they’d made him too powerful and if he was a Master Plotter, there’s no reason why he wouldn’t be able to see the plotting around him in Dubai. But let’s go with what the show has told us: when in love, Armand fails to see what’s happening around him.

Let’s say he was so in love with Louis, that he not only lost interest in the coven and broke the rules he’d enforced for centuries, but he also deluded himself into believing that other coven members wouldn’t rebel against his selective tyranny. And the reason why I agree with what he said re: when he got involved was because of the conversation between Celeste and Estelle & Louis and Santiago in ep. 8. When running away, the female vampires tell each other the fire was from a rival coven that sensed weakness when they overthrew Armand. Santiago insists that Louis not credit the trial’s success to Armand because the whole thing was his idea as the Maître, not Armand.

Maybe what we saw of Celeste and Estelle's conversation on the bridge was one of those times the audience got a rare objective reconstruction of events. But since Louis is the one doing the retelling at this point of the story, let's assume he was privy to their conversation, and that Santiago’s insistence that he was Maître probably convinced him that Armand was telling the truth about his involvement. (I think the show was doing that thing where they’re trying to tell us Armand wasn’t the mastermind behind the whole thing, but it was done so clumsily that it feels out of tune with the tone of the show).

--and the same way he lied about Nicki (& Gabrielle) in 2x3.

Did Armand lie to Louis about Gabrielle and Nicki, or was he lying/not telling stuff to Daniel? Same thing with the pages he removed from the diary. Louis knew what was in those pages, he’d had access to them for a while, he was okay with them being shown/not shown to Daniel. He also knew that Armand had made the unilateral decision to remove some of the diary pages because he didn’t want Daniel to know certain things about him.

Which in retrospect make Armand look even more insidious, esp. when we wonder to what extend Louis' been "driven to form new conclusions about myself" when he doesn't even KNOW himself; let alone WHAT memories he has that are real or false.

I can see this angle, that Armand was changing Louis’ memories throughout their time together. However, in 1973, when Armand acts as a conduit between Loustat, Daniel says they’d been in that apartment for 4 days. But, in episode 6, we learn that they kept Daniel there for two more days, rewiring his memories. Daniel was weak, drained almost to the point of death, malnourished, tortured, etc. But it took two days between Armand starting to rewire his memory re: what went down and them releasing him in a drug den. Then in Dubai, Daniel starts getting flashbacks after being in Armand’s presence for about a week, maybe less. Which makes me think Armand can’t just snap his fingers and rewire a memory. It’s probably easier when someone is ‘half in love with easeful forgetting’, but even then, a vampire who’s feeding human every other day, as Louis is in Paris, isn’t so easy to memory wipe to the extent of never remembering anything despite interacting with the memory wiper every day compared to a drugged up, drained human who manages to retrieve important memories while dying of a neurodegenerative disease. I guess this is me coming out as the person who believes that Louis asked Armand to erase the memory of him going into the sun (Armand took advantage, of course, and painted himself as a saviour, but I’m convinced the initial decision to erase those memories was Louis’).

Another thing that bugs me about the extent of Armand’s memory wiping powers is, if he’s time and time again used this power to paint Lestat in a negative light:

What purpose does softening Louis’ perception of himself serve? From what we’ve seen, Louis’ belief that he’s unable to control his temper and often causes grave damage to himself or others is crucial to the control Armand has over him. Making him believe he was helpless to stop Lestat’s turning of Claudia or unable to go through with burning Lestat because of Claudia doesn’t serve Armand in any way because then Louis would think he’s incapable of causing harm when he’s not under the power of stronger forces (older vampires, a child he loves unconditionally, etc). Having Louis believe he has self-control wouldn’t do Armand de I Need to be Needed any favours.

Why would he leave his involvement with planning the trial in there? If he can basically snap a finger and rewire a memory forever (or drone on and on about a version of events until the victim fully believes him), he could remove himself from knowing about the planning altogether. If he can even make his victim hallucinate something (like Sam being next to him during the trial), he could’ve made Louis hallucinate him next to them on the stage during the trial. Why doesn’t he? Why leave the memory of his culpability in there despite knowing it’s the one thing Louis wouldn’t forgive Lestat for, let alone him?

Like, Louis HATES himself, and is quick to blame himself for things beyond his control (a la Paul, a la the Ordinances; "Can we be forgiven if we do not forgive others ourselves?")

I don’t think is entirely true. I think Louis blames himself for minor things or stuff he knows he didn’t do. But not about the things that would make his worldview take a 180-degree turn.

Louis’ One Thing, Only Thing, has been Claudia’s death. As we saw in 1973, he cannot live with the memory of what happened to Claudia. In episode 5, when they start to talk about the events that directly lead to the trial, Daniel calls Louis out for using language that distances him from the narration, because it’s a difficult memory and one he’s never actually had himself recount, ever. Raglan said 3 or 4 other journalists had tried to get the full story out of him and ended up dead or undead. Even in 1973 we see Louis and Armand use ‘Her’ instead of Claudia’s name when talking about Paris.

In Season 1’s finale, we see him remember that it’s not Claudia who stopped them from burning Lestat; he was the one who used violence to stop her from finishing the act. Armand tells Daniel that he’d be ashamed of calling Louis a liar for his faulty memories after learning the full extent of the repercussions for not burning Lestat. I say this also applies to Louis. He is ashamed/cannot live with the fact that what he failed to do in NOLA is what led to the events in Paris (I’m speaking purely about the character’s mindset. I don’t think burning Lestat would’ve changed anything; it might have made things worse).

Cognitive dissonance again, and this time he resolved it by blaming Claudia. He’s believed the kinder version of events because he can’t face the fact that his refusal to burn Lestat is the reason why he could come to Paris and testify in the trial that ends up killing his daughter. To know himself as the man who picked Lestat and ended up condemning Claudia? That would send him to the sun 10 times over.

And it’s easy to blame Armand for this again, say that he messed with the memory of Lestat’s killing and that’s why Louis blamed Claudia for the failure to burn him (which okay, if it kept Louis from the sun, is almost a sympathetic and loving edit, as messed up as that is lmao). But, Louis has read the diaries and knows Claudia hated him for 5 years while they were going through Europe. Daniel also mentions this in Season 1 iirc. So it’s not like Louis doesn’t know it wasn’t all roses between them after leaving NOLA. However, I think Louis prefers to believe a version of events that paint him in a kinder light, and so he wouldn’t willingly upset his worldview by reading an account that challenged it (“I knew who I was without those pieces.”) I don’t know whether he does this deliberately or by not fighting against Armand’s (supposed) control of the archives.

I say deliberately because, once he gets the memory of Lestat’s non-burning right, he needs very little prodding to remember what happened next. The memories come flooding back, including and especially the more correct version of NOLA events that Lestat showed him during the trial re: Claudia’s turning, the fight, etc. If Armand had maliciously edited these memories, then he’d stop Louis from recovering them (kill Daniel and make Louis forget he even thought of doing an interview). But he doesn’t. He’s right there as these memories come back and, aside from suggesting Louis stops during emotionally charged moments, doesn’t prevent the remembering, despite this making it more likely that the extent of his betrayal would be uncovered. Why? I refuse the idea that Armand is some passive “I couldn’t prevent it” character. If he’s been editing Louis’ memories at will, then he’s a very actively malicious creature (even if he doesn’t think so). Moreover, the renewed memories paint Lestat in a much kinder picture, which doesn’t serve Armand de Possessive.

That’s why I think it’s Louis who decides what memories he carries and which ones he forgets or edits to maintain his self-perception. He doesn’t do this maliciously. I think everyone believes they’re better than they actually are. Not many people are willing to look in the mirror and truly see themselves, flaws and all. Louis “I didn’t put those there - You sure about that” de Pointe du Lac has gone through life refusing to look in the mirror. What likely happens is similar to what happened with Claudia’s turning: he made the story gentler for a child’s mind, like how mothers do with their kids’ birth stories, and likely retold it to her enough times that it became the full truth to him too.

Armand’s hold over Louis isn’t because of some insidious memory edit, it’s the ‘prison of empathy’. He doesn’t challenge Louis’ version of events, mostly because it puts his position as companion at risk. And Louis stays in this prison of empathy even as it suffocates him because he doesn’t want to face memory, the monster.

TL;DR: My problem with blaming Armand for everything/most things Louis remembers wrong is that 1. It removes Louis’ agency and flattens his personality, and 2. Turns Armand into this Big Bad who plans and executes shit meticulously but somehow doesn’t do anything to stop people who’re 1000X weaker than him from unraveling these plans.

I think most of these problems are because the show fucked with Louis’ and Armand’s characters in favour of Lestat’s, but that’s a story for another day.

IWTV S2 Tentative Timeline (Pt2c) - Unreliable Narrators, Armand & the Trial

Thanks for the response to Pt2b, @usuallydeepalpaca-blog! I really want people to talk to me about the IWTV timelines, cuz this show is SO confusing! 😩😭

"I think if you create the timeline with info the show doesn't provide, i.e. Armand was involved from the start, then you're bound to get it wrong."

Absolutely. I fully expect that I got some stuff wrong, which is why I said it's a TENTATIVE Timeline.

I've in no way said it's THEE CORRECT™ timeline, cuz chile IDKWTF is going on. 😅 I openly say what confuses me, questions I have, and how I come to the conclusions that I draw. I'm being as transparent as possible to let y'all know that I DON'T know. 🤷 The show doesn't provide EVERYthing, so I'm just piecing things together in a way that makes an iota of sense to me, following the logic of what the show HAS provided. The only solid details we have are diehard IRL dates, that gave us a time range when certain events can/can't happen. AFAIK I'm working with the same set of details everyone else has, until AMC gives us more info in S3+. And unfortunately, the 2 biggest unknown variables are Lestat & Armand, and to what extent they were/weren't involved in the Trial that got Claudia killed & Louis buried alive.

"saying Armand messed with Louis' memories re: the trial is also something not supported by the show."

The show obvs. wants us to assume that Armand made Louis hallucinate Sam guarding him in the theatre box (thus painting Armand as a "captive" along with Louis & Claudeleine).

Even if Armand didn't use the Mind Gift on Louis, he lied at least twice:

lies by omission: letting Louis think a hallucination of Sam was real

lies to Louis' (& Daniel's) face: going along with the premise that he was Sam's "captive" & Armand sat there the whole time thinking of a way to rescue Louis

And we KNOW this is a lie, cuz Daniel calls it out explicitly, asking how Sam can be "in two places at once," allegedly "guarding" Armand, but ALSO helping to torture Louis in the Wet Room.

Armand never denied or contradicted Louis saying Sam was in either place. Maybe Louis really did misremember Sam being in the wet room--the ONLY one who can corroborate all this is SAM--whom Armand ALSO lies on, throwing Sam, Daniel & the Talamasca all under the bus by saying the script with his handwriting all over it was forged! No honor amongst thieves I guess! 🤣

(Eff Lestat's POV in S3--when is SAM gonna give HIS POV of the Trial?!)

So I'm operating on patterns of behavior, and the logic that if he's deliberately lying about one thing (a VERY BIG THING, actually), then what else is he lying about? How are you "atoning" for anything, when you're just heaping lies on top of gaslighting on top of manipulation?

Armand KNEW Daniel had been given the OLD script from the archives, WITHOUT Armand's edits & directions, and LET Daniel AND Louis think that was the truth--

--same way he went behind Louis' back and removed extra pages from Claudia's diaries that would reveal MORE of his shenanigans--

--and the same way he lied about Nicki (& Gabrielle) in 2x3.

The show ALSO provides us with quotes like this:

And this:

It's so effed up, and it makes me side-eye all the insistence that LOUIS is the one mostly at fault, when he's got literal double-hypnosis Brain Scramblies from WWDITS. 😭🤦

Ofc there are unknown-unknowns when dealing with unreliable narration. But there are also known-unknowns, too, that also make Armand sus.

Sure, Loumand was away at the library in July (IF that memory's even real, Mr. "I Had A Hunch")--but how on earth would Armand have NOT known that the coven was working on the Trial right under his nose for MONTHS prior & after July--Luchenbaum sewing new barrister costumes & wigs; Tuan painting projections & testing new lens/film tech; and Sam writing a new script (when we already KNOW Sam can't multitask when his "head's in a hat")?

July is only ONE month in over HALF A YEAR of Trial prep. Louis was never around the coven to know what was going on--but ARMAND was; it's where HE lives.

Whose POV was it that showed the whole coven passing around Claudia's diaries? Whose POV was it that revealed Santiago being called Maitre in every scene that ARMAND was also in?

Armand was in the park with Tuan when Tuan called Santiago Maitre; and Armand was in the theatre with Sam when Sam called Santiago Maitre--so this is clearly either Armand's POV telling on himself; or it's AMC screwing with us.

It's TRUE that Turning Madeleine was the straw that broke the camel's back, as Armand was like I can't keep THAT a secret from the coven, too (and ofc he couldn't--they're VAMPIRES; they'd FEEL a new vamp in their territory). But Loumand's problems PREDATE Madeleine; the same way Loustat's problems predate Claudia. I blame Les for not dealing with Lou's BS, just like I blame Armand, cuz THEY are the Coven Masters, NOT Lou--esp. cuz Armand had 14 other vamps in his coven he SHOULD be prioritizing over Lou. The same way Loustat's guilty of being bad fathers (which they BOTH admitted to), Armand's guilty of being a bad coven leader (which HE admitted to).

IMO, all this makes any & all discussion about Armand's trustworthiness difficult, when his "seismic lie" throws EVERYTHING else he's done into question. Esp. since the show ALSO provides us with the FACT that Armand knew from DAY ONE that Claudia lied about "Bruce"/Lestat; and that Louis was a terrible liar & terrible with the Mind Gift; and that he'd ALREADY planned on killing Louis in 2x3! Armand knew from the get-go that he couldn't do EFF ALL to keep Louis & Claudia out of danger, and TOLD Louis so.

"It also ignores that Louis softens his participation in certain things because he can't live with the guilt of his full participation, e.g. Claudia's turning, which he continued to lie to Claudia about even during the trial and only accepted the extent of his involvement in Dubai"

The Trial Timeline's purpose is to pinpoint when the preparations took place, NOT to hash out how bad of a father Louis was to Claudia. 🤨

And it certainly isn't meant to provide a timeline for the events in S1 wrt Claudia's Turning--we already know the dates for all of that, that she was made in 1917. I focus on the 1940s in S2, and the European dates, NOT the NOLA dates. LOUIS did not participate in the Trial's preparations, ARMAND & LESTAT did. My timeline has ZERO bearings on Louis' guilt for not warning her, etc.

But on the subject of Louis & Claudia, I've cussed Louis out for not telling Claudia about Armand b4 (x x), I don't ignore it at all. I fully understand & even agree with Armand being fed up with dealing with Louis' BS. But HE CHOSE not to kill Louis when he had the chance, and it's obvs that whatever arrangement they made when they had sex in 2x3/2x4 allowed Louis to TRUST that Armand would keep "the secret" & keep Louis & Claudia SAFE from the coven. (Which is a BOGUS claim for him to make, when Santiago'd ALREADY peeped that they were lying about Lestat & being from NOLA, but wtvr). I've called Louis a naive idiot 1000x for overestimating Armand, putting his life in Armand's incapable hands--just like he would AGAIN by trusting him about "Banishment;" and AGAIN by asking Armand to wipe his memories in SanFran (and LIE by omission about Les saying "I love you, Louis").

"Louis remembers the trial, he remembers what was said and what Lestat showed him."

HOW can Lestat have showed Louis ANY memories during the Trial (inc. the Ep4 revisit), when Makers/Fledglings CANNOT read each other's minds???????

I love this show so much, but I effing hate this show--they don't even give us an answer, Daniel just moves right past it, like wtf are we supposed to do with that, AMC? There's plot threads, vs plot HOLES. Louis' TOO unreliable, Armand's a shysty liar, white savior Lestat to the rescue~~~! "BANishMEnT~!" As if Lestat's any less impartial?

Esp. when at least SOME parts of the Ep4 Revisit were OBVIOUSLY Scripted lines written by the coven to implicate Louis in breaking the Great Laws that Lestat allegedly taught him AND Claudia to follow?

Like, Louis HATES himself, and is quick to blame himself for things beyond his control (a la Paul, a la the Ordinances; "Can we be forgiven if we do not forgive others ourselves?"); so if one is determined to see him bad faith then of course one can easily pounce on him Florence DPDL style / Santiago style, and blame him.

(Esp. since in 1x4 we literally SEE Louis admit to begging & emotionally baby-trapping Lestat into turning Claudia--the revisit in 2x7 is more (melo)dramatic & extended, sure, but it does NOT contradict Louis' account in S1. So I get REAL confused when people say he lied about 1x4 or wtvr.)

Louis invalidates his perspective cuz he KNOWS he's an unreliable narrator--he spends 2x1 sobbing about wanting to remember & "get every detail right"--and ARMAND is there constantly tryna STOP the interview; having directly contributed to his already deteriorated (& inherited?) mental illness, by bending Lou's trauma into "a Lestat shaped-effigy" with all that "I will not harm you" bullcrap.

TL;DR: We won't know for sure what the Trial timeline actually looks like, unless S3+ revisits it with more context.

But as things stand at the end of S2, NO, I don't trust Armand as far as I can throw him, cuz there are waaaay too many instances where he's deliberately lied & obfuscated & omitted in ways to deliberately confuse the narrative surrounding the Trial--that go beyond Louis' already confirmed trauma, PTSD, mental illness, repressed/faulty memory, and guilty conscious.

If y'all want a timeline of S1 events, those have already been made by other people in the fandom (this one is goated).

I wanted to know what was going on in S2; so I used every single date and IRL reference possible, and put them in chronological order in a way that makes sense based on how I TENTATIVELY understand things currently; NOT how AMC has confirmed yet--if they ever will.

If anyone has more relevant in-show references & IRL sources we can cite, to help make better sense of S2 than I did, let us all know!

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