#please I am going through so much psychic damage | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

chloecherrysip · 2 years ago

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Just Beyond My Reach, There's Someone Reaching Back For Me (speculative mario movie fic, mario & luigi centric, around 3600 words.)

[OK SO i literally could not stop thinking about this post in the mario movie tag from last week, which turned into me trying to write out my thoughts about how the scenario could unfold, which then turned into me writing a full-fledged fanfic that's over 3,000 words long??? I DON'T KNOW WHAT HAPPENED. I've truly lost my common sense, but I just felt like I HAD to get this out before the movie arrives and their reunion is nothing like this in any way whatsoever.

This is a speculative fic of just one possible scenario out of millions, no actual spoilers; i'm working off info we've seen in the trailers/TV spots/promotions/etc, and all the characterization is based off those too, so it might ultimately be off-base. Please don't @ me after the movie comes out and get on my case about details being wrong! I AM IN THE PAST (and jealous of you in the future for having already seen it).

I present to you: A Version Of Mario & Luigi's Reunion in the Mario Movie That Would Cause Me Irreparable Psychic Damage.]

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Mario hears him first. He would know that panicked yelp anywhere.

By that point, he’s lost count of how many of Bowser’s minions he’s tried to interrogate as he fights his way through the airship. There’s so much shouting and clanging all around him, and his voice hurts from yelling loud enough to be heard over it, but he can’t stop. “Where do you keep prisoners? Have you seen someone who looks like me — but tall, skinny, and green? If you take me to him, I’ll go easy on ya, I swear—”

it’s hard to tell if they’re just refusing to answer him, genuinely don’t know any useful information, or can’t actually communicate in a way he understands — probably some in each column. But he’s about to grab another angry Koopa by the shell and try again when there’s a commotion far off in the distance. The yell that echoes out to him is faint, but it tugs hard at Mario like a rope tied around his middle. Something from his memories, the nightmares he’s been having this whole adventure that he hasn’t told Peach and Toad about. Something instantly, certainly familiar to him in a way that few things are.

His heart is suddenly lodged in his throat. He barrels his way past the troops and the Kongs fighting them, moving fast towards it.

The area of the airship he’s in starts to slope down further ahead, surrounding a huge open space that, judging by the flickering embers in the air and heavy heat that’s got him sweating through his shirt already, has a whole bunch of lava simmering at the bottom. On the other side of the chasm, there are a whole group of what look like angry blue penguins beating down some feisty stacks of Goombas with their bare flippers. There’s also what impossibly looks like a star, with a face and everything, beaming bright and doing twirling cartwheels in the air, giggling at the carnage underneath. And behind all that, he can see—

Mario reacts without having to think. He jolts forward against the railing, reaches a hand out, and yells as loud as he can. “LUIGI!”

He can only see glimpses of his overalls and green hat at first amidst all the other chaos, but then pieces of the ongoing fight tumble further to either side, giving a clear view. Mario watches wide-eyed as his brother frantically swats away Goombas, shrieking and flailing his arm furiously when one snags some teeth through his sleeve until it comes loose. He looks terrified and a little queasy, but also very determined, even jumping in to help when one of the penguins gets pinned down. They seem to be working together.

Luigi is here. He’s really here, alive and fighting and still in one piece. Mario isn’t too late. It feels like a 20 pound weight’s suddenly gone from his back that he hadn't even realized he was carrying around.

His yell is half-drowned out by the chaos, but Luigi’s head still snaps up, eyes wide and stricken and bright with recognition. “Mario?” He cries out, his voice cracking badly. He kicks another Goomba away and then starts spinning, searching the surrounding area with increasing desperation. “Mario!?”

“Over here!” Mario wishes he had another raccoon powerup so he could just fly across the gap and reach him right then and there. He has to settle for taking off his cap and waving it in the air like a flag. “Luigi! Over here!”

Finally, their eyes meet across the gorge. It’s not necessary at that point, but Luigi still tears off his own hat and starts flailing it around too overhead, as if just to make absolutely sure his brother knows where he is. “MARIO!” He shouts, his tired face instantly transforming into a relieved, overjoyed smile.

“Are you okay!?”

“Y-Yeah! I mean, define “okay,” but I, I'm not hurt or anything like — wait, how did you get here!? We’re way up in the air!”

Mario’s face already hurts from how wide he’s grinning. “Not anymore! And whaddya mean? What do ya think I’ve been doing all this time? Looking for you! You don’t think I could find you wherever you are, even if it’s a million miles in the air? Give your big bro some credit, eh?”

A laugh bursts out of Luigi, surprised and shaky. Mario has missed that sound so much. “Right, right. I did think…I mean, I hoped, or…” His brother shakes his head, his voice failing him. He lets out a deep breath, so deep that it’s almost like he’s been holding it in ever since they were separated, still smiling like the sun. “I knew you would. Mario, you — look out!”

Mario turns just as a hammer goes whizzing past his ear, tumbling down into the lava pit. He dodges the next one more capably and then catches the third one that comes his way. In one smooth, lightning-quick motion, he throws it back at the attacking Hammer Bro, nailing him in the face and knocking him out cold.

“Whoa!” He turns back to see Luigi staring with his mouth agape. “When did you learn how to do that?”

“It's kinda a long story!” There will be plenty of time to get into all the details about his adventure when he’s gotten Luigi safely out of an active warzone. “What about you? I thought you were a prisoner here!”

“I am! Or I was, I guess! We — me, and the penguins, and Lumalee,” he gestures wearily up overhead, where the blue star-thing is idly playing with a pinwheel that it somehow conjured out of thin air, “and the others — we broke out! We, ah, we’ve been trying to find a way outta here ever since, but this place is a maze and we need some kind of hot air balloon or one of those floating clown-car thingies to even get away in the first place, and—”

“Spinies at four o’clock!” One of the penguins shouts, at the same time that Mario yells “Luigi, on your left!”

Luigi jolts at the sight of the three spiky, spinning shells approaching fast. He jumps high enough to leapfrog right over them all, causing them to ricochet off the wall unexpectedly and careen off the side straight into the deep pit.

“Nice, Weegie!” Mario cheers. “You always were the better jumper.”

“Keep your head in the fight, soldier!” One specific penguin calls out to Luigi. He’s wearing a very fancy gold crown — probably their king? “We’re not done here yet!”

“I know, I know, but look!” Luigi gestures excitedly across the chasm. “My brother’s here! He made it!”

“Good show! If he’s as brave as you said, he can help us beat back these dastardly troops once and for all! We’ll all see the light of day again soon!”

The rest of the penguins cheer, thrusting their flippers victoriously into the air, and then let out a wave of new, guttural battle cries. The Penguin King smiles over at Mario and salutes him before rejoining the fray. There are more of Bowser’s minions crowding the walkways on both sides, Mario realizes with a newfound wave of worry. He needs to get to Luigi now.

“Stay right there!” He calls, starting to run alongside the railing. “Don’t move! I’m coming!”

“Are you kidding!? Wait!” Luigi starts running too, mirroring Mario. “I can meet you faster this way!”

Mario laughs. “If you can keep up with me!”

“You’re on!”

The road ahead of him is pure chaos, filled with attacking enemies and whooping Kongs and weapons flying every which way, but Mario runs. He runs until his heart burns, dodging and weaving, almost tripping here and there because he can’t stop looking over the gap to make sure Luigi’s still there on the other side, stumbling his way through his own gauntlet. The two areas are winding closer together, slowly but surely. They must meet somewhere. He’ll find it. He has to.

“Hey, Luigi!” He yells, breathless and happy. “Remember when we were fixing Mrs. McGrady’s sink a couple weeks ago and talking about the future? Did you imagine it’d be anything like this?”

“Whaddya think!?” Luigi shouts back jokingly. “I-I mean, I imagined people being mad at us, but those were customers. There was definitely a lot less lava, and magic, and crazy green pipes that send you to places from your literal nightmares!” He laughs, which swiftly turns into a yelp when he has to dodge away from a red Koopa. The next words come out thicker, almost strained. “Mario, you, you’re really here, you — I missed you, I…”

Even with the distance and the distracting noise and the heavy breathing, Mario can hear the familiar tearing in his brother’s voice, and it pushes him to run faster. Luigi is so much braver than many people in their life have given him credit for, but he has a breaking point, and Mario can recognize it like the back of his own hand. Heck, he could use a good cry right about now too. They're so close. Just a little further.

He’s never been the biggest hugger — that title belongs squarely to Luigi, who always holds on a little too long, especially when Mario protests, swinging him up into the air until Mario has to grab him in a headlock and wrestle him down, both of them laughing by then — but he genuinely doesn’t know how he’s ever going to let go of his brother again once he’s within arm’s reach.

“I missed you too! Every day!” He calls out, and if his voice cracks, well, that’s okay. “Hold on! It’s gotta be just up ahead!” There’s a solid wall coming up where they won’t be able to see each other across the way any longer, but the sharp curve of it looks extremely promising. “I’ll meet you on the other side!”

“Okay!”

The wall comes between them. Mario's finally in the clear, having left all the attackers in the dust. His legs and chest hurt, but it doesn’t matter. He's about to get his brother back. He feels invincible, unstoppable.

“I told you, bro!” He can’t hear Luigi at all any longer, but he shouts anyway, hoping the words reach him. “Even if it didn’t turn out like we thought, it’s all gonna be okay! This is crazy stuff, but as long as we're—”

Mario turns the corner and skids to a sharp stop. The words die in his throat, turning to ash.

Bowser is in front of him.

The King of the Koopas nearly fills the entire space wall-to-wall, hulking and monstrous, even bigger than what Mario imagined. He breathes out an angry, deep growl that prickles at Mario’s skin, star-bright embers scattering in the air, the smell of burning getting stronger and stronger. But none of that is what Mario is focusing on. He’s frozen in place at the sight of Luigi, wriggling in one of Bowser’s gripped hands. A thick, scaly finger is coiled tight over his brother’s mouth too, keeping him from making any noise besides a variety of muffled, panicked sounds.

“Thought you didn’t know him, Greenie,” Bowser says in a low voice to Luigi. “Wasn’t that what you said? Boy, you wouldn’t like what I usually do to liars. It involves fire — a lot of it.” His rows of sharp teeth part, just enough for a big exhale, tinged with molten heat. Luigi cringes, turning his head away as far as he can manage. He’s trembling. “But lucky for you, turns out you’re not entirely useless.”

It takes a moment for Mario to come back into his body, remember how to move and think. But slowly, his hands ball into fists. A voice erupts out of him that barely sounds like his own, grave and angry, angrier than he’s ever been in his life.

“I’m only gonna say this once, ya overgrown turtle,” he says, shifting his footing into a fighting stance. “Let my brother go now.”

Bowser looks down at him with a derisive sort of amusement for a long moment before laughing outright. "Give me a break, shortie! You’re even punier in person — 50 of you couldn't stop me. But that hasn’t stopped you from trying, has it? You and your little friends — your pathetic excuse for an “army,” if that’s what you want to call it. But that all ends now.”

As if on cue, Mario hears DK and a few other Kongs turn the corner, whooping and hollering, only to pause too at the sight of Bowser. “Let’s get ‘em! He can't take us all at once!” Someone says, and there’s a rush of new movement behind Mario. Bowser turns Luigi in his hand, holding him out a little closer to Mario with a shake of the wrist — a taunt. One of his claws pulls up just a little from the rest, the sharp tip arched and pressed lightly to his brother’s neck. The implication is clear.

“Stop!” Mario shouts, half-strangled. He must sound serious enough that DK yells “hang on, hang on!” to his brethren, grabbing them with both arms and holding them back from attacking. On Bowser's other side, Mario can see the penguins watching what’s unfolding too with wide eyes. Even all the minions in the area have gone still, weapons lowered, waiting to see what Bowser does before making their next move. The space is suddenly quiet.

The claw finally relaxes again. Luigi’s eyes are very wide, and there are tears on his face as he stares at Mario. He tries to say something, the sound of it hopelessly muffled against Bowser’s hand — an apology, or a plea, or simply Mario’s name.

Mario is shaking. He grits his teeth hard, desperately tries to hold himself steady again. He hopes Bowser can’t see it — but there’s a gleam in the King’s eyes, and it couldn’t be any clearer that he does.

“Do you know how long I worked on this plan?” Bowser says, his tone softer, more thoughtful all of a sudden. “Orchestrating these invasions, gathering forces far and wide to serve me, taking the almighty power star for myself. I’ve wanted this for years!” His wide mouth curves up, plainly wicked and self-satisfied. “And now here I am, about to rule the world like I deserve, and a couple of useless, pipsqueak plumbers from who-knows-where think they’re just gonna waltz right in and ruin it for me.” Bowser chuckles to himself. It’s a dangerous, sharp-edged sound, echoing on and on. “Ain’t that a laugh, Mario?”

Mario doesn’t say anything. He doesn’t even know if he’s breathing any longer. All he can do is glare.

Bowser shrugs. The large fingers on his occupied hand flex ever so slightly, a slow, malicious ripple of movement, all the scales glinting in a wave. “You’re less fun than I thought you’d be,” he says gruffly. "What does the princess even see in you? A tiny little killjoy who loves ruining things for others. Guess it’s only fair I ruin something of yours to make us even."

There’s no further warning or fanfare. In one brutal motion, Bowser crushes his grip tighter around Luigi. His brother’s mouth is still covered, but the way he cries out is starkly, unmistakably pained.

Mario’s vision floods with red. Something inside of him, the patient, careful part that was still desperately clinging to one last scrap of self-control, snaps cleanly in two. He runs at Bowser full-speed, fist cocked back, teeth bared.

“I said LET HIM GO!”

He doesn’t make it there. Bowser, grinning outright, moves so much faster than Mario would have ever guessed he could. He spins, and his tail comes out of nowhere. The impact is like an oncoming train, catapulting Mario into the nearby wall with a sickening crack.

There’s a horrible ringing sound in his ears. His head hurts. He hears Bowser laugh, followed by a roar and a burst of fire breath, awful-smelling and close enough to singe. There’s a lot of shouting, and panic, and thunderous footsteps, moving in a hurry. He can’t think any longer. Why can’t he think? All that comes to mind is—

(They’re fifteen, hiding in their bedroom with some smuggled bandages and antibiotics from the medicine cabinet because if their mom finds out Mario punched out a kid behind the school, she will LITERALLY murder him. Luigi wraps each bruised knuckle carefully as Mario winces and complains about the stinging ointment. His brother looks angrier than he’s ever seen him before, though, and that makes him quiet again in a hurry.)

“You want him so bad?” Bowser is much further away, his voice a distant rumble over the flickering flames. Get up, Mario tells himself. He’s gasping, struggling to push himself back up with useless, trembling hands. His legs feel numb. Get up! “Then come and get ‘em already!”

(“You never stop and THINK first, y’know?” Luigi shakes his head, badly trying to hide the tears budding under his eyes. “And now you’re hurt, and it’s all my fault, and — and I don’t need you to do stuff like that for me! I can handle it, e-even if you think I can’t!”)

“Mario!” That’s Luigi, terrified and wheezing, finally able to talk again. An intentional decision by Bowser, no doubt, just to be cruel. Mario can barely hear his brother at all, and the sound of his voice keeps growing fainter. “No! Let go! MARIO!”

(“What are you even saying? That’s not why I did it at all!” Mario insists, using his uninjured hand to flick Luigi’s nose with a few fingers. His affronted expression at that makes Mario laugh, and the motion quickly turns into them trying to be the first one to swat each other in the face without getting blocked. At least the tears are forgotten, which is what he wanted from the start. “Don’t ya get it? I know you can take care of yourself. But if anyone wants to hurt you, they’re gonna have to go through me first. I’M the big bro, and that’s just how it is forever.”)

Luigi!

He’s standing again, even as his body protests every pull and push of the way, even as he’s still struggling to open his eyes. Someone strong and furry offers some extra support on his right side.

“You okay, man?” Donkey Kong asks. “Geez, that looked like it hurt. Hey, anyone have an extra mushroom?”

Stars are flashing across his vision, but finally they fade away. There’s a line of fire in front of them like a makeshift barrier, slowly but steadily dying out. Sure enough, Bowser and Luigi are gone. Mario’s heart lurches hard against his ribs.

“Setting a devious trap for sure,” The Penguin King grouses from further away. “Using one’s own flesh and blood! Does that dastardly Koopa’s depravity know no limits?”

“I’m fine. Never better,” Mario groans. He points past the fire. “He went that way, right?”

DK blinks, looking a little uneasy. “Uh, yeah, but we should probably regroup first and — hey! Wait a second, you idiot!”

Mario’s already charged full-speed ahead, jumping over the flames. Others yell after him too, saying it's too dangerous, but he’s running anyway, chasing the smell of molten heat, the faint, far-off echoes of yelling that feel like pinpricks in his lungs.

He knows it’s a trap. He knows. He just doesn’t care.

He already let Luigi literally slip through his hands once before. Heck, he isn’t sure if he’ll ever be able to forgive himself for that alone. No matter where he has to go, who he has to fight, how much abuse he has to take, he's getting Luigi back right now, and he's gonna pound that overgrown bully's face until he regrets every life decision that led to him daring to hurt Mario's little brother.

It can't be too late. He can't have screwed this up again. He'll do anything. Even if...

The feeling of something on his cap startles him out of the thought — the softest boop-boop-boop, like someone very small is bouncing on it. He assumes he’s just imagining things until the blue star-thing (Lumalee?) floats down further, easily keeping up with his top speed, humming what sounds like a lullaby. Mario gawks in its direction.

“The biggest sacrifices are often the ones that burn the brightest, out in space,” it says, bright and sing-song. “Did you know that?”

“What are you even talking about!?” Mario yells. “Sorry, but I’m a little busy here!”

It’s unbothered by that, twirling close enough to give his mustache a little, playful poke. “Not existing any longer is natural, inevitable. We all go into the light someday.” The way it’s staring at Mario is unnerving, as though this little, creepy star knows exactly what he was just thinking about. “You look scared of that. Are you?”

Mario swallows thickly.

“No,” he says. “If that’s the only way, then…” His eyes are burning at the edges, just a little. “If the people I love are safe, then it doesn’t matter what happens to me.”

Lumalee smiles a dreamy, thoughtful smile.

“Oh,” it sighs, little more than a breath. “This is going to be so much fun.”

And then it floats away.

Mario doesn’t have time to stop and wonder what that was all about. He throws himself deeper and deeper into the airship, even when a heavy metal gate slams down behind him to separate him from the others, even when the slabs of rock under his feet sink down into the lava from the weight and don’t resurface, erasing any way out. Mario thinks of his training, of Princess Peach and Toad cheering him on, of the exhilaration and hope he felt looking out over the Rainbow Road, of Luigi smiling in the warp zone right before they were ripped apart. He steels himself for what’s coming next.

Further ahead, he hears his brother call out for him.

Mario runs.

#mario movie #mario movie spoilers #super mario bros #mario and luigi #super mario bros movie #cherrysip fic #super mario bros movie spoilers #(again NO SPOILERS IN THE FIC ITSELF unless you've been avoiding all trailers and TV spots but just to be safe)#(although i AM going to post a small music-related spoiler down here in the tags so don't read if you want to avoid!!!!)#'hey what were you insinuating with that weird convo at the end there' NOTHING [pointedly stares at one up mushroom in promotional stuff]#LOL this is WAY TOO DRAMATIC and probably too violent for a kid's movie but LOOK #i just need them to pay off the 'bowser is looking for mario's weakness and luigi ultimately IS the weakness' thing. I NEED IT #even if it's just in a small moment. bowser wants to fight mario but he does NOT play fair if he thinks he'll lose. I CRAVE THE ANGST #i was actually going to go a little further with the scene and carry it all the way to bowser saying 'let's end this' like in the trailer #but i just really liked this foreboding ending note #if you are curious about what came next in my head (and also where the heck peach is in all of this) mario ends up in bowser's throne room #and sees that peach has been captured too which is a whole new fun wave of horror that he didn't know about #luigi's been thrown in with her and she's helping him because he's obviously a little hurt after being SQUEEZED #the power star hangs over bowser's throne like the chekhov's gun it is. and we begin!#(the only thing i really wanted to write that i didn't get to by cutting earlier was some more mario + bowser dialogue)#(i think mario would be too tense to say much in the scene i have but once they're squaring off he's a smartass for sure)#(he's known a lot of bullies in his life and bowser is just a much bigger scalier one)#(the title is from the song 'holding out for a hero' which apparently according to a new interview is IN the movie!)#(during mario's training montage so i started listening to it and it basically become my background music for writing this lol)#(last stupid thought before i shut up: bowser hitting mario with his tail is included because i recently played mario odyssey and bowser #kept absolutely BODYING me with that move in the end fight. i died twice because i am bad at games lololol)

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crystalelemental · 10 months ago

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Hey o/! Nexomon fan here, I loved reading your thoughts! I'm conveniently in the discord so I can tell you most of what's been said, most of it is mechanical stuff though.

Apparently Ghost, Psychic and Normal are going out the window, and Arcane is being added as a new type. And all the nexomon have like, % of each type? Think like 10% Water 90% Electric I think? So whatever may come of that

We don't have any new teasers or gameplay trailers but we do get monster designs revealed every so often, you should be able to find a page in the fandom wiki with the teased ones so far

Story wise we just know it'll be another time jump, the protagonist is the black and blue haired dude(apparently might always have to be male?), the developer has been teasing about something happening to Solus in the meantime, but he has also said Abyssals won't be a big thing in the past so, he could very well just be joking

Sorry if you didn't want the info dumb btw, you can ignore this if so, I just like having new people in this fandom c:

Glad you enjoyed! I'm gonna put a lot of response under the cut so it doesn't clog people's dashes, but as a general statement: I'm generally fine with spoilers, but am looking to avoid information about story. Anything about mechanics, new Nexomon, even characters or updated designs is fine. But I do like to avoid knowing about story. Nothing you said is a problem, just putting that out there for future reference.

I kinda like the Arcane decision. Psychic was hysterically overpowered in Extinction, with the only things that resist it being things it also resists (Mineral and other Psychic), and the things it's weak to being weak to it (Electric and Ghost). Grass was relatively strong, but neutral damage means Psychic can still push through. Normal was also super weak. Two weaknesses, no strengths, an inconsistent status that relied on Mineral-type attacks to boost their damage. Normal was really bad. Ghost was balanced though. I'll be a little sad to see it go, but Arcane sounds like a fine replacement, depending on what it does.

Type percentage, however, is some nonsense. Not in a way I'm opposed, but in a way where I'm confused how it works. Assuming we go back to the old type wheel (please go back to the old type wheel), if you have something that's 80% Electric and 20% Water, and you're hit with a Mineral-type move...what happens? Like, if the base damage is 100, Electric is a factor of 25% boost for weakness, Water cuts 35%, but are those boosts and reductions also hit by the percentage, so it's a 20% boost and 7% reduction so it's only 13% stronger? Because that would be wonky. Again, I'm cool with it, but it sounds chaotic.

I may try to look it up. In fact, one moment.

Okay I couldn't find anything. If you have a link readily available feel free, but don't worry too much. I'm not too worried about seeing designs right away.

As for story. The Abyssals not being a huge deal is still very possible. I don't think they need to be prominent in the next game to be significant here, so I'd be a bit bummed they didn't get more play, but not entirely surprised. Something almost definitely happens to Solus, since they're a clear target, it's just a matter of what. The big thing that bugs me is "possibly has to be male." That would honestly suck a lot out of it for me. I do not like that being forced. I know it should be inconsequential, but it's because it's so inconsequential there's no reason to make it only male. It would be an unnecessary and shitty limitation drawn solely from the decision to go 3D with the graphics, and I will not be happy with that trade. I could give a shit about graphics. Hopefully it's just typical "male as default" marketing and they have a female design as well.

#nexomon

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grigori77 · 1 year ago

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Critical Role, Campaign 3 Episode 71

Yay, back to regular reacting times. Long may it continue ...

Blimey ... I'm with you Laura, that is an ... INTERESTING look for Ashley ... but NOT AS BAD as Sam's ... oh gods, now she's doing a French accent ... which I STILL better than Sam's ...

Ashley: "I'm French! It's my way!"

Wow ... this actually might be the best NordVPN ad for ages ...

Matt: "I think you almost killed Travis ..." Yeah ...

HOMELANDER in Mortal Kombat? Both cool AND disturbing ...

Matt: "Lady I'm married to, next to the horse!" Travis: "Yeah, horse lady!" Matt: "Yeah, this is getting quite disturbing, very Twin Peaks ... as much as I'd love to keep Sam in that outfit ..." Sam: "Oh God, it's so hot!"

YEAH!!! Bye bye, Ratanish, you big butthead!

Okay, so where are we? This IS the Shattered Teeth, right?

Perception check already? Go Liam ... Nat20!!! OF COURSE he does ... monkeys? Look at Ashley, already cute-grinning ... :3

Chetney: "There's an ocean, nearby! Intoxicating! We are truly lucky to be here!" Ashton: "Are you okay?"

Alright, seriously, what IS going on with Chetney? Is he tripping on funny psychotropic moss?

Laudna: "Are you an island boy? Do you operate on island time?" Hmmm ... am I missing an in-joke here?

Cliff! Watch it ...

This is INTENSE landscape ... very broody ...

Jirana the Shore Shrew ... cue loads of playing around with shudhing noises for THAT name ...

Imogen trying to send a Message to Jirana ... Matt: "Roll a D100 for me." Balls ... and 3 points of psychic damage! Ack ... oh, no, just 1 point ... not SO bad ...

Looking for the Great Tree of Atrophy? Hmmm ... but are they on the right tree? Probably not ... but Imogen still wants to go up and see ... so dhr grabs Orym to take with her, and Laudna sends Pate too ...

Liam: "Have I ever actually flown before?" Oh boy ...

I'm sorry, HOW high? Oof ... oh great, just an endless fog bank ... great ... Liam: "So ALL of the Shattered Teeth are obscured?" Crap ...

The shadow is MOVING ... oh that's not good ... yes, dive. DIVE DIVE DIVE!!!

Laura: "What if it's a nice Falkor? It's never a nice Falkor ..." No. No it's not.

Wow ... I love that ... Orym has INSANE good perception and a truly HORRIBLE sense of direction ... XD

Pick s direction ... FCG: "We can't just stand around with our metal dicks in our hands."

"Squishies in the middle!" Yup ...

Little feetsies ... LOL ... Matt: "I just wanted to say that so bad."

Fireflies? Ashton: "Remember the last time we thought some little glowing lights were cute?"

Oh no, Laudna, this is NOT the time for a swarm ... oh well, there she goes anyway ...

Pass Without A Trace! Here we go ... meanwhile Ashley's distracted making sure she doesn't smell like the horse suit ...

Tiny beating wings? Oh great ... not pixies again, please ...

An AMPHIBIOUS pixie? Weird shit ... that can't be good ...

Low growling and thuds from somewhere? Oh hell no ...

Trusting Fearne to know how to move through a place like this IS probably a smart play, actually.

Ashton: "I'm more scared of IT than I sm of you." Fearne: "Well that doesn't sound right." Ashton: "No, you ARE very scary."

Sending Pate out to scout ... Laudna: "And don't HIT ON the faeries."

Wow ... only TWO of this party have Darkvision ... great ...

Now they're looking for spiders? Hmmmm ...

A big fucking footprint ... 7 FEET LONG?!!! Seriously, Matthew?

Grim Psychometry! Okay ...

Oh, so they're on a BLOODY GAME TRAIL right now ... that's just LOVELY ...

And there's bits of broken canopy ... shit ...

Not many places to hide, clearly ... Imogen: "This place is bad!" Ashton: "Yeah, it's bad, everything's bad."

A makeshift camp, then ... and Fearne can make sn extra overgrown think to shelter them too? Okay ... "A little Bob Ross cabin". Nice. Sounds tight, but also quite cosy ...

Liam: "Is the rest of the show gonna be us just decorating?" XD

Night time but for them it still feels like early afternoon ... oof, timezones are EVIL ...

Chetney takes first watch ... so that whooshing sound KEEPS happening? Not a good sign ...

Laudna takes second watch, along with Pate ... "This is as low as I go, you didn't make me to he quiet." Yeah ...

Laura: "Okay, what if the creature IS the Shore Shrew?" Travis: "Okay, go to sleep."

And now they're being CHECKED OUT by the pixies ... wow, and these things are FUCKING UGLY up close ...

Liam: "I can imagine it walking right across your eye." Laura: "Like in Aeon Flux?" Oh yeah! XD

Extra watch? Then they can get a LONG rest ... so it's FCG with Pate helping.

Now there's a whole bloody HORDE of the fucking things surrounding them ... FCG tries to Talk With Animals ...

Laudna sleeps with her eyes open? Of course she does ... O.O

FCG seems to be making friends ... he tries to pickpocket his meat from him ... that didn't go well ... Chetney: "You're not supposed to be bartering with them!" FCG: "GO back to sleep." I can't believe that worked ...

Detect Thoughts? Hmmmm ... meanwhile Pussy II jokes ensue ...

One perches in his hand and HE CASTS TONGUES in it? AND IT WORKS?!!! Holy fuck ...

No name, just "me" ... hmmm ... "the Spray Cannon"? Okay ...

Oh, the "Smelly One" is some kind of creature ... oh, they decorate their bodies to mask their scents ...

Ah ... so the stuff is actually their SHIT ... of course ... they have to cover themselves with pixie shit ...

The island is uninhabited? Oh, there's Toriz? The Protector? Ummmmm ... what?

Big fire? FCG: "Oh, you guys are pyros?" Oh, so they WANT a big fire ... XD Yeah, I reckon they can accommodate that ...

Okay, so waking everybody up yo meet the new friends ...

Orym rolls over and IMMEDIATELY starts doing his morning push-ups ...

This is like now SUPREMELY bizarre ...

I love Me so much, I swear to the gods this thing is ADORABLE ...

Imogen tries to speak in its head ... "I'm in your head." Oh gods ...

Me: "You promised a fire." FCG: "Oh yeah, they like fire."

Imogen: "You're worried they're just gonna push us off a cliff?" Orym: "Oh ... well I WASN'T ..." XD

So they're APPROACHING the whooshing sound? Hmmmm ...

An old, long abandoned campsite? Interesting ... Grim Psychometry again ... oh shit, something NASTY happened here a long time ago ... oh, now that was just quietly TERRIFYING ...

Okay ... so it's time to make ... The Fire ...

Imogen: "Me, could EVERYONE poop on us? Oh, so gross ..." Me: "You want a rain from Me?" Hmmmm ...

Insight check on Me? Ooh, WHISPERS!!! Aaaaaaah ...

Fearne bamfs out Mister ... meanwhile they're discussing if they ACTUALLY want to get genuinely SHAT ON by these things ... it smells like lavender? Oh, so it's THAT MOSS that Chetney was chewing on earlier ... that explains a lot ...

Oh yeah, these guys really do LOVE fire ...

Me (to his friends): "The newcomers require a rain party." Oh. My. GODS ...

They are actually getting PELTED with this ... SHIT. Yeah ... Ashton: "Sometimes I think I should have just let that living room set kill you all."

Building a suitable bonfire ... oh yeah, OF COURSE Chetney knows what wood burns well.

All right, here we go ...

Ah, so this will be Laudna trying her Fire Magic under Fearne's guidance ... wow, nice job, girls! O.O ... oh yeah, they're just making a BIG shos of all this, and the pixies are just LOVING IT ...

Oh, here we go ... something's coming ...

A massive multi-legged komodo dragon that can change colours? Oh boy ... and it has NO EYES, just a FUCKLOAD of teeth ... with a big star on its nose? Like a MOLE?!!!

Stealth check ... Chetney rolls STUPID high ... znd it STILL attacks? Not good ...

Go to break? NOW?!!!

Shit, that's a NAT20?!!! Matt: "Why are you cheering?" 62 POINTS OF PIERCING DAMAGE to Chetney? Holy fuck ... znd it's time to ROLL INITIATIVE!!!

Battlemap! Yay!

Liam: "So Chetney just got COMPLETELY WRECKED?" Gods yes ...

Charge! Orym rushes the beast, using Seedling to pull himself right into its face! Bait and Switch on Chetney, nice! Protective Orym for the win!

Imogen Summons her Reiloran! Hex Mind? Okay ... using SPECIAL SORCERER MATHS she casts a long range attack on the beast! Zap! Psychic damage, bitch! Now the Reiloran delivers a Mind Spike znx deals EVEN MORE?!!! Oh, and then Mstt reminds her it can do MULTI-ATTACK so it does it AGAIN!!!

Chetney: "Oh my FUCKING GOD!!!" Casts Blood Curse of Bloated Agony and starts to crawl off ...

It tries to attack Orym and he fends it off TWICE ... third hits, though ... 22 points of slashing damage? Crap ...

It xan ONLY sense Orym? Hmmmm ... so the shit works, unless it's already engaged with them ...

FCG Compels it, but otherwise can't do much of anything until he can get to Chetney ...

Laudna Hexes the fucker! Yeah! Then she sends Pate in to attack ... but he can't make it either this round ... bugger ... 2 Eldritch Blasts, both hit! 14 and then 12 Damage! Nice!

Ashton Rages! Big ass rainbow charge! And he starts BARKING at it? That's wild ...

FIRE!!! Fearne tries to torch it ... oooh, damage maths ... 16! Nice! Mister goes too, poop shoot! Here we go ... bah, MISS!!! Nuts ...

"What about the power ... to move you?"

Wait ... what the fuck is THIS?!!! Something ELSE is coming? Is this about to get so much worse?

This changes Orym's plan somewhat ... flanking instead, slashes once, misses, Gain and HITS!!! Goading Attack! In the ARSE ... 16 points of damage and disadvantage against anyone else ...

Imogen LIGHTNING BOLTS the thing! Nice! Boom! 9 D6 of damage? Crazy ... 31 points of Lightning damage? Ouch ...

The Reiloran CRITS it ... 11 points of slashing damage ... Chetney: "Is that all? Eye flash and that's it?"

It attacks Orym ... miss ... then a HIT!!! Laudna casts Silvery Barbs! Nice save! Still hits a little, though ... crap ... it NEARLY BITES HIS ARM OFF?!!! Fuck, Matthew! Orym is REALLY HURT now ...

FCG gets as close as he can go Ofym and does a 3rd level Healing Word for 12 points ... that the best he can do right now ... and then all he can do is try and shoot it with the Bolt Thrower ... znd he MISSES!!! Travis: "Well at least you're consistent."

Laudna sends Pate to it and casts Shocking Grasp through him ... ZAP!!! Skittering? A great swarm of Stink Bugs? Infestation! Nice ... FCG: "It can't smell past the stink!" Yes, nice distraction!

Still Raging, Ashton Charles in, grabs Orym and carries him off ... stows him in a little hollow and then pops back up into the fight.

Fearne casts 3 Scorching Rays ... and NONE OF THEM HIT!!! Argh ... but at least Mister's "fiery turd gun" hits for 10 points of Fire damage.

Something big DROPS OUT OF THE SKY!!! Great ... boom ... and everybody gets blown back from the impact ...

Gigantic fucking demon frog beast ... like a FUCKING KAIJU ... its mouth glows from inside ... wait, there's a HOUSE inside this thing?

Whoa, giant beast face-off! Matt laments the fact he doesn't have a mini THIS BIG to put in and they immediately start ribbing him about it ...

Orym hacks and slashes, trying for another Goading Attack ... it works! Action Surge! Go tiny fighter!

Imogen tries to communicate with the giant frog ... oh, this thing might be friendly? Okay ... Imogen (out loud, to the group): "Take cover!"

Everybody who can just SCATTERS ... meanwhile the creature flees. Laudna tells Oare to build and he's very vocal about thinking her for the warning ...

The Mes are all swarming around the frog's head now ... it jumps on the lizard mole, squashes it, then just takes off with it and CHUCKS IT INTO THE OCEAN!!! Nice ...

Okay, the frog's back and SEEMS to be chill ... it opens its mouth ... and there REALLY IS like a kind of weird house inside this thing ... and there's somebody living inside it.

A galapa ... oh, a tortle? Cool ...

So this IS a friend of Keyleth's ... she's quite sweet, real. Hello Jirana. And the frog is Toriz. It's her home AND her friend, that's bizarrely adorable.

Fearne gives Toriz scritches. :3

Jirana IS aware of the major changes in the world. Oh, she's inviting them inside ... buy first douses Chetney with a bucketful of water for all the blood.

Bari Mondolo? So THAT'S what that thing was ...

The pixies are Dolabos? That's cute ...

The Cloud Jaws ... like a sky whale? Scary big thing ... and apparently IT IS dangerous, but only to airborne things. Okay, so not a MAJOR danger, then ...

The interior of the frog is surreal but also quite quaint and cosy.

Imogen uses Prestidigitation to clean them all off of the shit. Nice.

Jirana clearly collects stuff. Imogen gives her the Taste of Tal'dorei tankard. Awwww ... :3

She us an expert on grief and loss ... seems Keyleth sought her out? Oh yeah ... yeah, we know what THAT was about ...

There are 43 islands in the Shattered Teeth? Crazy ...

She's 400+ years old ... that's fucking crazy ...

Meanwhile there's some confusion over whether time passes different here or if she's just confused zbout that ...

Ashton reveals his Titan blood secret ...

Now asking about the Tree of Atrophy ...

Ooooooh ... Calamity fallout lore dump! Sweet ...

So you can just CHOOSE to become a tree ... okay ... wait ... is the Sun Tree like this? That would be interesting ...

Jirana: "The Tree is ... honest. Not everyone can handle this level of honesty." Hmmmm ...

So ... looking for a boat, then?

The islands REALLY DO move ... that's just GREAT ...

Oh my gods, I love the way Travis always completely loses it when Matt gives them a map. It's completely adorable every time. XD

Let Chetney repair a boat, guys. He's so stoked about this idea, just let him have this one.

Sam's flask is trying Matt's patience in the best way ... XD

Three big mountains ...

A "floater of danger"? Hmmmm ...

Yes, I agree, teleportation is NOT a smart idea right now. No, just TAKE A BOAT!!! Let Chetney mend a boat, guys ...

Ooh! Compass! Sweet ... the lost compass of the Dread Pirate Novos ... wait, is Matt SERIOUSLY evoking THE PRINCESS BRIDE right now?

A dark deal ... a GHOST SHIP?!!! Wait ... is this some U'kotoa shit?

There's a motorcycle outside, apparently ... Liam: "Grog's got gas." Travis (as Grog): "Sorry ..."

Chetney tries to get a read on the compass ... ooh, vision of a memory ... that's some crazy shit ... "Yep, it's a pirate ghost ship, and it'll be ... AWESOME."

Wow, they're actually seriously considering going for some kind of Davy Jones deal with the Dread Pirate ... O.O

TWO Titans died here ... Jirana has to look up their names ... Rau'shan and Ka'mort. Okay ...

Oooh, care package ... what kind of goodies are they getting? 2 reef moss balms, a bottle of slickshimmer oil, 2 brackish Potions (basically two greater healing potions) ... cool ... that's gonna be so helpful ...

FCG gives her fresh baked goods, and she's very appreciative.

Oh Letters, you're doing better at this than you think you are. Jirana does a really beautiful job of bucking him up ... apparently HE needs to talk to the tree too, and she's willing to help hom too if he ever makes it back this way ...

Man, this ancient tortoise woman is really something special ...

Chetney: "The wolf requires a high metabolism." Jirana: "THIS is for stamina." Wait ... did she just give him some homemade viagra? O.O

Fearne gives her salt and pepper shakers she got from the museum heist. Awwwww ...

She can TAKE THEM to the North Shore? Sweet ...

Oh yeah, clearly this us gonna be a serious wild ride ... I love that she's just a massive daredevil about this while the rest of them are deeply alarmed by the journey ...

Stepping out ... aha, the Shore is in sight. Here we go, then.

Ashton: "How do you grieve if you don't know what was taken from you?" Oh man ...

Jirana: "I am perpetually surrounded by broken things. They can always be mended in time."

Farewell to Jirana then, while the rest of them head to the shore. And that's it for tonight.

Yeah, Matt DID go all out on the Miyazaki vibe tonight, didn't he? I loved it ... :3

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starsapphire · 2 years ago

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25 17 12 8 9 & 3 for the choose violence ask game...I love ur haterisms you're always so correct in it

HI ignore how long it took me to answer this. thank u i hope i am not just a mutual to u but also an irredeemable hater

25. common fandom complaint that you’re sick of hearing

you know what? trying to answer this one made me immensely grateful for how normal the mutual circle is. couldn't think of anything. thanks guys 🩷

17. there should be more of this type of fic/art

i know you're here for dc but i must speak my truth. we need more johnnywyatt content in the marvel fandom. spideytorch is dead. it's never going to happen. peter is either straight or too oblivious to ever realise he likes men and either way marvel is going to be milking the petermj divorce remarriage magic-divorce remarriage divorce remarriage cycle in every media form possible until the company shuts down. maybe in the ultimate universe i could see spideytorch working out but it literally exploded. rip gay emo 1610 johnny but we need to move on. i'm sorry everyone. HOWEVER. we are ignoring the beautiful truth of johnny storm and his hot 6-foot-massive husband. when i think about them my mind fills with static but like. he doesn't have powers. johnny is a living star. and he will still step in front of johnny every time. he treats johnny's niece and nephew like his own. they're married in every sense but legally. only 37 works in the ao3 tag. we are living in hell. at this point i will take crumbs from dan slott. DAN SLOTT. but i stay silly

12. the unpopular character that you actually like and why more people should like them

zinda blake. purely because of "holy crow! the boy is FANCY?!"

8. common fandom opinion that everyone is wrong about

ummmm everything about the "stalker tim" thing. like no he did not follow batman and robin around with a camera for 5 years. janet and jack didn't send him to school at arkham ok he was not able to escape every weekend and go downtown in gotham at 3am. but also i have seen people be very adamant that tim did not stalk batman and robin until jason died (which like. if he hadn't followed anything about batman and robin in that period, how would he know how much more violent bruce was getting or that robin had changed hands?) and that's not true. he was stalking them neil josten style. i want to see his creepy stalker binder full of newspaper clippings. from actual newspapers. like a psychopath

9. worst part of canon

cassie sandsmark's stupid fucking costume for the last 20 years. i would suffer through tom king's writing just to see her in a normal outfit i'm dead fucking serious. i'd buy the fucking issue. her ugly ass britney spearsification twig arms tt2003 redesign deals me actual psychic damage when i have to look at it (IT WAS SO OOC and johns' justification was so misogynistic. what if i kms) and every time i have to see cassie's stupid fucking impractical little girl eight-year-old-in-2011 outfit from rebirth i want to die. there's this one panel i saw that i cannot find where diana, donna, and yara are walking in their really beautiful, regal armour, looking like warriors, ready for battle, and then cassie is next to them in her skort. it's so embarrassing… someone please free my girl. actually free her from everything originating in tt2003 she deserves so much better

3. screenshot or description of the worst take you’ve seen on tumblr

i get what they're trying to say but also I Was Literally There And That Is Not What Happened

#SORRY THIS TOOK SO LONG 😭 i wanted to answer it so i couldn't. adhd swag #i didn't have many haterisms for u with this but be sure i will have many more general haterisms soon #ask #rus

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captainsspnanon · 2 years ago

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C3E58 - reaction

I am very entertained that they are fighting a creature with many mouths who causes psychic damage from the sounds, considering I'm in the gibbering mouther section of my C2 rewatch and about to get to the laughing hand, so it's all just fucked up mouths for me XD

LOL the fact that FCG has started consistently fucking with who doesn't get bonded and it's an issue each time. I love it! Though I'm worried about their stress points, I'm also kinda looking forwards to a little blow up.

I saw a few spoilers about the episode before I watched so I WASN'T terrified when Fearne went down and got swallowed, but holy fuck if I hadn't known she lived for a threesome, that would have been so stressful!

I'm so glad we got to see at least a tiny glimpse of the wolf-king! I want Matt to post a picture of it on twitter please! Please please just for me!

Huzzah for bag of holding! Great with the notes and harness and rod for plot development, good for funds for refilling some pockets, especially because ...well, I don't even know what the funds status is of this group. VM was rich AF, M9 was poor AF, I have no clue where BH falls. Especially because a lot of it is based on RP (I think M9 probably had as much as BH, but rped as much poorer - nope I lied, counting today's haul, BH has like double the amount that M9 had by the same episode)

Wish we could have gotten more from the FRIDA moment, interesting that Matt has Christian be much more active in the rolls and directions, whereas with Ashton and Fearne's dad (not Birdie, I can't remember his name) they were much more passive while Imogen and FCG/Laura and Sam really took the lead. Confirmation of Aeor though! Sounds like they got smited by the gods though I don't think we had any idea previously that some Aeorians were against using the malleus factorum. Not surprising once I think about it for like, two seconds, but never considered it before.

THREESOME!!!!! Oh I SO hope that Fearne holds to her early game comment and does 'work her way through all of them'. PLS PLS PLS. Anyhow, a touching and mostly hilarious moment, I loved every second of it. I'm also pleased that the first kiss and first sex scenes were from PCs that it seemed like the fans went out of their way to desexualize, I love it.

All the gifts! Hoodies were adorable, and then two wooden gifts from Chet! With how frequently the table gave each other game related gifts out of game previously, I do enjoy how much it's a lot of in-game gifts now.

Oh fuck those scenes with the Changebringer and Dawnfather were INTENSE. HOLY SHIT. I am very hyped, for the gods to just force visions and make demands (at varying levels of demandingness)!!! I wonder how many non-PCs are also receiving these visions? Did Caduceus get one? Fjord? Pike and Vex and Scanlan? Random other clerics and paladins of the world?

Seriously, I am so hype. C3 took me a bit to settle it, but it is a very easy second place for me out of the three campaigns! Still won't beat C2 for me, but I'm pretty sure that's because 1) it was my first campaign and 2) it's when I really hit hyperfocus on CR and could watch two and a half to three episodes a day. ...yeah, I binged HARD on C2. Started late January 21 and finished in time to watch the finale live.

I'm also intrigued to see how all this is going to go. They physically CAN'T have Aabria and Christian playing once everyone is back together, there's just no room at the table. What is going to be the thing that splits them up? I wonder if it'll end up coming down to an NPC having to be 'group regulars go to this location, group guests go to this location' to have a natural and realistic separation.

#cr spoilers #critical role #bells hells

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lithopsy · 3 months ago

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ty for the tag @caffernnn 💗💗 u know how i love to yap hehe

last song: you’re gonna make me lonesome when you go by bob dylan because i’m normal and well adjusted and coping well with having a crush

fave color: any and all greens yessir yessir

last book: erm i fear it’s been a stressful month so catch me in ali hazelwood’s latest romance novella

last movie: I watched like 40% of the batman with vic and alyssa on halloween and I think that was the last one genuinely it’s been a crazy month

last tv show: I watched the fall of the house of usher a bit ago hehe mike flanagan call me, babygirl

sweet/savory/spicy: erm savory. i do not have a sweet tooth

relationship status: i want a man so bad that i’m about to smoke my first cigarette

last thing I searched: was triple checking that I knew what oil to put in my car (I did)

current obsession: ough ough ough taking psychic damage it’s literally been the most insane month i don’t even have time to have obsessions or thoughts but like perhaps love and deepspace i am kind of getting back into playing lately and I just got two new zayne cards so 🤭

looking forward to: brother the end of november (but also this weekend plus secret redacted answer please respect my privacy in this sensitive time)

favorite drink: diet coke always ofc but also i’ve been drinking pink lady apple flavored kombucha so much lately it’s the only thing getting me through tough times

song playing on a loop in your head: bed chem by sabrina carpenter which is funny for reasons i won’t elaborate on

current favorite character: been getting back into luke skywalker lately 🙂‍↕️🙂‍↕️

fun activity you would like to get into: i really want to start journaling again!! december’s goal lmao

last video game: i started (another) new stardew valley farm in which i will inevitably marry harvey again and make all the same choices as my other farm but idk i live for the grind

last comic/graphic novel: lowkey been rereading nailbiter and bouncing off the walls about it but like in a normal way (lying)

tagging erm. @petalbee @cherrybucket @urmomsonfire no pressure muah muah muah

#606.txt #also #CATHERINE i read cultish it bangs!! ilu <3 #yes this post is a cry for help

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blondrichclosetwitch · 1 year ago

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God and me going crazy 1/27/17

This isn’t Horse.

(identifying) this is God. (holding back tears, then breaking down into sobs)

Am i going crazy?

I am?

What do you mean exactly?

Are you saying this is untrue information?

But isn’t Blond after me as i think she’s after me?

Yes...so don’t i have to stop doing the tantra.

And isn’t it true that she’s going and finding my clients and offering them 5,000$ to set me up?

Yes

is it true that Jakk and i are communicating through katie through a pendulum?

Yes

And that we’re somehow able to have sex through a pendulum?

Yes

And is it true that blond’s pregnant?

Yes

And is it true that she’s gonna miscarriage on april 17th

And that is part of her karma

(cries) is it true that my brother blames me..for katie’s acci–for katie being dead?

( i remember this; earlier that day fakekatie told me that my brother wished it was me who had died in my accident, rather than her. I was sitting on the couch when she told me, i think i hysterically called my mother)

Because we were both hit by cars. And because i lived, and she died.

Yes

(pause)

Is Blond attacking me at night again?

Is she still...yes—is she still raping me? Cause i feel the damage to my neck.

(there are tapes from december when i talk about what was happening at night , and then i woke up in a hotel room from someone fucking/choking me while i slept. fakekatie called it rape)

Should i tell jakk? Ok

(sighs) i didn’t say my prayers last night because i was beaten up by what i found out. I know i need to do it everyday and i know i need to do the cord cutting every day....is it something besides the cord cutting & psalm 91 that i should be doing?

Yes?

Can you put it in my head, please?

( some things to point out—i knew nothing about magick or the dead before katie’s death, and i definitely didn’t know i had psychic abilities, but by january i was already getting very clear pictures and words.i would saqy “put it in my head” and the message/visual would appear. Also, jakk & i had only been broken up for 6 months after 4 years together, so i was grasping at straws to figure out what was happening, because he has his mercury in the 12th house and runs cryptic anyway)

“The 10 commandments?”

And i got....”the psalm of psalms?” Is that all? Ok

And that will help?

Psalm of psalms....how long is it?

Can i just pick one every day? On top of psalm 91? Cause it looks like there’s a lot.

“Add a different one every day.”

So john is just gonna...so i shouldn’t try to reach out to john again..

I should?

You see why i can’t tell him about.....the text messages.

Yeah.

I get it now.

God, how am i going to do 12 more weeks without jakk?

I was good at tantra though.

I’ll find other teachers. God.

I know you’re going to take care of me i know you’re going to take care of me, but i just want to go back to sleep. Look at me.

(transmission)

You mean about the opening and getting all the information, and blond attacking me, and finding out about dad, and john blaming me, and mom not believing me and talking to jakk through a pendulum, and katie being gone, and not being able to do the work that is feeding my soul...and the culmination of all of it, and not being able to sleep..is making me go crazy.

So what do i do?

“Believe”

(transmission)

Put a picture of jakk in a frame too?*

(this is important, because it was the first time it was suggested I print out a picture of Jakk. I had no pictures of him in my apartment. )

I appreciate everything you do for me. How is my child?

Is she with jakk?

Is blond…..after she loses the baby?

Is that why i saw all those violent visions?

You helped me a lot this morning, thank you so much. Do you want me to start going to church?

Thank you.

(end of tape)

Encounter 2 1/27/17

(To Psychic Jakk)

I think that...you didn’t know that you were..i think you didn’t know what to make of what was happening to me back in september...but once i brought up the spells and once katelan brought up that Blond’s book was a curse, it made it clear to you and you put two and two together, and once the Nusch connection...that’s what sort of....cause i did a spell that they instructed me to do on New Years Eve. and that’s what originally made things..open up for us, but i didn’t do it all the way correctly because...because i didn’t do it all the way correctly so it didn’t work completely. But then i found the information about Nusch that i presented on my birthday. Nusch/Katie. And that’s when it opened a channel for you, i and nusch, and that’s when you started working with nusch.

And you started having sex with her. And then i guess you started working with Random, and i was sending you spirits, and i stopped communicating with you via text because “it wasn’t safe anymore” ...and um, ....and...yeah. So this is you. And this is me. And this is what we’re doing, and this is what we have to do.

And what they’re telling me is we are going to have some time once this.....comes....it’s still gonna be a long haul..but we’re protected. katie/nusch has got us, random has got us, this God creature has got us...you were mary magdalene, i was mary mother of god, katie was jesus. Blond was judas. Blond will do anything to kill me basically. And i know this. So i need to stay as safe as possible.

And the very sad part of that for me .....abandoning my work. Because i love my work. I’m really good at what i do. And men really need me. Badly. What time is it, it’s 1:35 and you need to leave in 25 minutes. I bet you want to have sex quickly (little laugh) before you go.

It’s gonna be a quickie.

Let me have one bite. Cause i literally have not ..eaten breakfast. Do you understand now that.. I’m so grateful that i don’t have to get a roommate for february. We’re going to be together. You’re gonna teach me things, and i’m gonna teach you things..and we’re not always going to make the most sense. And we may not have a baby, but that’s ok. We have spirit children. We have both lula and katie. And nusch.

And we have seriously some of the best..most insane sex..in the world. Like, kinda phenomenal. Like all the spirits say it. Should i bring my work phone in here just in case he calls? Would you think it was hot if i answered?

This is gonna be a quickie cause you have to go to work, but i promise i’ll make it up to you after work.

We’re just gonna go for it.

(the sex happens, transmissions start to occur)

I know

She hurt me, that’s why

She knocked me out...i’m sorry

(transmission)

Yes daddy

( a shift)

Protect me katie protect me katie protect me katie

Don’t let her in

Jakk, come back

(sex stops)

Why did Blond come in?

Did you feel Blond come in?

Did you feel blond come in?

Did you let her in?

*why*?

(pause)

Why?

(pause)

She just showed up?

You can’t let her in.

Do you understand that you cannot do that?

(pause)

You cannot do that.

That’s dangerous. That’s dangerous.

She is trying to *hurt* me. You cannot let her in.

I’m trying to get her out. You almost hurt me. She could have hurt me. You cannot, you can’t do that!

What?

Is it because i said...because i called you daddy?

Jakk you can’t....you’ve got to control yourself.

(sigh) then i won’t call you daddy, but you’ve got to know better!

You can not ever ever ever let her in!

Are we understood?

Ok.

Don’t bring Blond anywhere near me. Not even in your fantasies, not even in your fantasies! Ok?

I’m dead serious. It’s an invitation for danger, you could hurt me. Any place where you have allowed her to come in in the past with me has hurt me. So you can’t do it anymore. Ok? I’m not trying to yell at you, i’m just saying you can’t do that. And i’m sorry if i made a mistake by calling you daddy. I’m sorry. It was my mistake. It’s just, you know, we’ve done it before. I won’t do it again. My mistake. I’m gonna let you go to work. Take care. Don’t be upset, everything’s fine, we just *can’t* let her in. she can’t come in. we need her out, we need her gone. I’ll talk to you later.

What? I can’t read what you’re saying.

\are you saying i love you?

I love you. I’m not mad, i’m just trying to protect us. And i know she has a huge pull....i know. We just have to resist. Cause i felt the pull too. But we just have to resist.

We just have to, like.......pull away. And not give in. it’s ok babe, we made it out. We’ll have sex after work. It’ll be more relaxed. It’s gonna be ok.

You can have sex with me even though i’m not on the bed anymore. Alright i’ll talk to you later. (gets off the bed)

Jesus christ.

Encounter number 2.

(end of tape)

NR 74 1/27/17

(a few moments of silence)

Calling on Gina. gina from italy.

(pause)

Ginaaaaa

Hi gina

Nice to see you

I need some....truth. Cause i’m confused.

Number one thank you for coming.

Is jakk actually talking to me through the pendulum? Yes

So katelan does not know that is that correct

So she doesn't know the state of things with jakk and katie and nusch

So if she knew the story about nusch, she’d maybe have a different thing to say about separating from jakk. Ok. so maybe i should explain it to her

Um...is Blond still trying to rape me at night? And choke me? Yes I thought so.

( a ding on her phone)

Hold on that might be...

Ok, not seeing him. Bummer.

Did blond reach out to my client cary?

Fuck. that sucks.

And he would set me up!

But peter was fine, right?

So i should do the nanny thing to get extra money while i’m waiting tables

And i should do tarot and i really need to start studying.

And what i should do, i should give the landlord 1000 now and i’ll give him the 2nd half on the 15th. She did approach him, right?

What i want to know is how did she find him.

(calls Cary) What i want to know is how did she find you. Blond. Blond.

(pause)

Not according to my....Cary, i don’t....that’s not what i’m getting at all....you’re the 4th....you’re the 5th clients to call me out of the blue when i haven’t had a post cause i’ve taken everything down....yeah..and you only get in touch with me when i have something up, and she offered you 5000$ and you call me out of the blue. So.....right? (hangs up phone)

Gina.....

I can’t...

Giina you’ve been with me the longest

You’ve been with me since...september. Since italy. And i’m still in it. It’s almost february. Now i’m not doing the work anymore. Now i have to find a job. Now katie...katie’s been dead....almost 4 months. Do you think....and katie is my constant.

I’m hearing , we’ve still got all of feb and all of march..we’ve got 12 weeks..from what i can see Blond is trying to kill me.

It’s true that she’s pregnant, is that true ...

And you said when we last talked that she’s going to miscarry on easter monday....april 17th... (pause)

Is jakk trying to get away from her? In this world, in 2017, right now, is he actually trying to get away from her?

You’re telling me yes.

And the spiritual sex we’ve been having...that’s a real thing?

Can i answer misha real quickly, and you’ll stay with me? But i’ve got to..(texting about high maintenance )at first i dissociated and then i calmed down and found a way to stay present. I ended up staying 2 hours instead of one, and talking to katie for the second hour which they fucking loved. Katie says they will make me the actress for the episode.

Gina do you think that they’ll make me the actress? I’m neutral about it, well ok maybe i’m not completely neutral (laughs)

You think they will. You think so.

(texting) she totally showed off.

Ok so the stuff with jakk is real.

Is there a way that i can learn...that i can start to hear?

But you want me to study the tarot first. That’s fair. Cause that’s gonna be my money maker. And where do you want me to advertise to get readings and stuff?

(transmission)

You want me to sharpen up on my reiki

What??

Oh my god

Ugh

Ok what

(listing off names) neuro guido soski sweet jane cyrus oh fanaba. Maya....ah here it is 718 669 ____

I should call her right

What’s her name, maria?

( she calls. End of tape)

#watch the tapes

0 notes

yinyuedijun · 6 months ago

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MISS LENA U SPOIL ME WAY TOO MUCH W UR COMMENTS AQHTLGJSKDJS you don't know the kind of serotonin I got from reading your tags and comments THANK YOU SOOOO MUCH 😭😭😭 (especially so soon after I posted it too!! I literally was like damn why am I checking notifs at 3am nobody is awake to read this AND THEN YOU REBLOGGED 🥺)

NOT YOU REFRESHING THE DASH... please u are so sweet ♥️ i am very sorry that it didn't turn out to be 10k+ words of smut LOLLL i am sadly not built like that as a writer 💔 and I believe I have accidentally engaged in falsely advertising to make people expect that of chapter 2 😔 regardless I hope u found the smut hot, I did try to make it as raunchy as I could 🙏

re: the feral cat line, it was actually based on a shitpost about wbk when I was first watching it LMAOOO sakura just genuinely reminds me of my feral tuxedo cat that I adopted and socialized 😔 I do love the "capturing a stray cat" analogy that you brought up though. I do think the reader, despite her social skills, has some stray animal energy to her and trapping her is exactly what teenage suo didn't want to do, yet adult suo unrepentantly did HAHAHHFLDHFKSJ.

I LOVED READING ALL YOUR COMMENTARY ABT THE SEX SCENES!!! not just the funny bits (altho I laughed so hard at some of ur comments.... "can he bite you" yes he'd be more than happy <3), but also all your observations about how reader was just incredibly starved for intimacy and how traumatized she actually was :')))) I really did try to portray all of that despite her narration constantly attempting to obfuscate her feelings with comedy and horniness, and I actually was worried that the way she broke down during sex wouldn't land well because of it! so I'm incredibly glad that her terrible emotional state came through for you as a reader 🥺

I adored your observation about her wanting to be loved "so simply", you weren't reading too much into it at all! the bottom tiers of maslow's hierarchy of needs have not been met enough for her to worry about anything remotely self-actualizing. she needs a sense of security (with suo) and SATISFYING VANILLA SEX (with suo) before she can think abt anything else 😔

IM SO GLAD U LIKE THE MARRIAGE MENTIONS <3 suo wants to wife the reader so bad it's probably his most redeeming trait in this au ngl. otherwise he is a stinky horrible man. I did find it SO FUNNY how you compared him to a manhwa lead tho ALGJSKE CLEARLY I NEED TO BE READING MORE MANHWA. I am sorry for the heartbreak though. unfortunately self-indulgence for me involves men being So Crazy And So Soggy so you must deal with that psychic damage 💔💔💔 (but also, I just didn't know how else to tie up the narrative ALGJSDJEJ and I'm glad u enjoyed the ending line because it really was a sudden improvisation after pantsing the whole fic rip)

I laughed genuinely when you mentioned ari's suo posting too LMAOOOOO. I know what u mean tho every time I have felt remotely normal about suo, I see one of ari's posts and go back to being deeply abnormal about him. I'm glad to have incidentally contributed to the suo agenda alongside him 😎😎😎 my greatest achievement

THANK YOU AGAIN FOR READING N REBLOGGING!!! genuinely I can't thank you enough for spoiling me with such a long and detailed comment 🥺 SENDING U SO MUCH LOVE !!!!

TOKYO VICE | part 2

“Do you remember,” Suo begins, voice light, “how our master always talked about how important it is to engage with each other’s feelings?” You tense. “No,” you blurt out, and Suo laughs. “Of course not,” he plays along. “You were always so terrible at it. But I've been doing a bad job too, lately. So”—he reaches beneath your dress, hooks your thong with his fingers and starts pulling the fabric down your sticky thighs—“I wanted to have an honest conversation with you.” (Or: Tired of your lies and self-deception, Suo takes matters into his own hands and forces the truth out of you.)

12.8k words. suo x fem reader. deeply unserious yakuza au ft. yandere suo. mostly unrepentant smut, comedy, angst. warnings: sex work. nsft tags: afab reader, emotional sex, fingering, dacryphilia, orgasm denial, pussyjob, just the tip, creampie. suo is mean and makes you cry but there's no degradation, he's just a bastard lol. he also manhandles you a lot and you sit in his lap. dividers by @/cafekitsune!

You're surprised at Suo’s indifference to your sex life.

A month has gone by, and he’s made no comment on your habit of sleeping with customers, nor on the hours during which you come home—which are now even later than usual, since you have express permission to sleep with people and have no need to rush back to the penthouse after your ‘appointments’. And it isn't as if he's ignoring the reality of your late nights either. In a stunning show of respect for your personal freedom, he now actively offers to arrange for someone to pick you up from whichever love hotel you'll end up at. (You always decline, of course—if you're going to pretend to be his wife, you'd rather pretend to be a faithful one.)

Ironically, you had initially thought that Suo’s approval wouldn't matter either way. You had found the sex with your clients to be so uninspiring that it made you miss celibacy, so you were planning on stopping. But it turned out that you were deeply affected by the experience of sitting in Suo’s lap as he talked about his expectation of deciding whose cocks you should be allowed to take. It did something horrible to your sex drive, and thus you turned to work as your only outlet.

You spent around three weeks desperately trying to find a customer to satisfy your urges—or at the very least, to fuck you in a way that could get you to stop thinking of Suo whenever you got even a little horny. You were faced with utter failure in this pursuit, and in the end, bleakly resigned yourself to the reality that your shameful attraction to your best friend is incurable. You’ve now given up on the love hotel visits and simply take care of your needs with a vibrator instead. At least this way, you can actually say Suo’s name while you cum, rather than constantly reminding yourself to say your customer’s name instead.

The freedom of letting yourself fantasise about Suo has been exhilarating, but terrible for your friendship. It’s just difficult to sit across from him at breakfast and act like you haven't touched yourself at the table while he was gone, fantasising about what it would be like if he bent you over it and fucked you dumb. But you are a decent actor—hostessing demands that of you—so you don't think Suo has caught onto your carnal desires for him. Hopefully, he never will.

Another couple of weeks pass like this. Things are so calm that you come to believe that Suo is genuinely fine with you having some degree of sexual freedom, at least at work. This, however, turns out to be nothing short of naïvete.

After all, Suo is never forceful when he's upset with your decisions—but he also never fails to redirect them.

One spring evening, you show up at the kyabakura and are told that you’re only to see one customer tonight, and that it will be a private session.

“But we don't do private sessions here,” you say, blissfully unaware of your imminent suffering, “and we don't even have private rooms at this establishment.”

To this, your mamasan responds that the club is making an exception for this one guest, and that this guest has rented out the rooftop bar just to see you. When you ask just who this person might be, a look of mild panic flashes through her eyes. She grabs you by the shoulders and tells you to be careful. Just keep him happy and go home after, okay? she says. Don't go out for drinks, and definitely don't go to any love hotels. Don’t tell him your real name at any cost. You don't want to involve yourself with a man like him.

A sense of dread fills you as you step into the elevator.

A cool breeze greets you when you step onto the rooftop patio. Normally bustling with a raucous crowd, it almost feels eerie in its emptiness. Aside from the glow of the red light district beneath you and the city skyline in the distance, the only light is coming from the candles lighting one of the booths.

Your anxiety intensifies as you approach it.

You aren't very surprised at the sight of Suo lounging on a leather couch, dressed in full criminal regalia—infamous eyepatch, tassel earrings, and all. Sakura once mentioned that this club is connected to some colour gang, so you figure that the manager likely recognized Gui Yanzhao on sight. He probably suffered a minor angina when he did. The mamasan herself has no criminal ties to your knowledge, but she was probably informed that one of her girls was to entertain a high-profile yakuza, and she was likely worried that you'd been maimed in the process. Gui Yanzhao has a bit of a reputation for being a sadist, after all.

While you appreciate her concern, it is not Suo’s history of violence that scares you, but his history of antagonising you. On good days, there's nothing that delights him more than seeing you flustered or off-kilter. On bad days, there’s nothing that consoles him like spiteful retaliation against whomever's managed to piss him off—and you have, without a doubt, managed to piss him off.

You groan as soon as you see him, fearing the worst for your mental health.

“What are you doing here,” you say, and Suo smiles.

“Oh? You're not happy to see me?”

“No,” you moan. “How are you even here right now? Aren't you worried about being assassinated or something? Who did you terrorise to get an entire rooftop bar to yourself?”

“I have a very cordial relationship with all the major organisations on Keisei Street and was promised immunity during my visit tonight,” Suo says neatly. “And I didn't terrorise anyone. I simply walked into this fine establishment and politely asked for a private space to enjoy with my preferred hostess.”

Neither of you need to mention that the sight of the tassel earrings alone would be enough to terrorise someone. The manager probably felt like he was being extorted just from being on the receiving end of Suo’s smile. Actually, you currently feel like you're being extorted too.

You spend a good few moments giving him a look of open distress, to which he smiles.

“You know,” he says, “for a top-ranking hostess, you're not showing much hospitality right now.”

“Oh, for the love of—”

You force yourself to stop, remembering that you are, in fact, at work. Despite your mixed feelings about your industry, at the end of the day, you pride yourself on your work ethic. You take your job very seriously, and your job right now is to entertain your customer—even if said customer is your fake yakuza husband who is toying with you as a cat would a mouse.

Resigning yourself to a night of probable humiliation (one of Suo's greatest passions in addition to lying for comedy), you walk over to sit yourself next to him. And just like in Red Dragon’s lounge, Suo overturns the decision by pulling you into his lap. Your eyes go wide as he settles you on top of him—because unlike the intimate space of that crime scene, this is expressly forbidden behaviour at your club.

Also, unlike that other night, you are currently wearing the shortest dress imaginable and the tiniest thong you own.

You find yourself shivering as Suo's hand settles on your lower back, which is fully exposed thanks to the cut of your dress. You try not to focus on the calloused press of his fingers against your bare skin, but this is an exceedingly difficult endeavour, as his touch has been featured in your sexual fantasies for the past several weeks. Worse yet—your dress is now riding up your ass, and your thong isn't doing much to cover you. Whatever material his pants are made of—light, delicate—feels incredibly good against your thighs too.

If this continues, you might cum on the spot.

“Wait,” you say, and Suo raises a brow.

“Oh?”

“You aren't supposed to touch the hostesses here.”

He smiles. “I'm sure this place might be able to make an exception for me. But only if you are personally willing to, of course.”

“...”

Making an exception for him, in your current situation, would be among the worst decisions you've ever made. But after two of the most sexually frustrating months of your life, you’re ready to make horrible decisions.

“Fine,” you say. “But you better not cheap out on the drinks. The mamasan will only overlook this if you make it worth our while.”

“Of course,” Suo says. “Though I think she’d overlook a lot of things for me regardless.”

Suo makes good on his promise and orders a great deal of alcohol. All top shelf, of course. He laughs that his goal is to bring you to the number 1 ranking with his patronage alone tonight. It’s a hideous display of wealth.

As you pour him an absurdly expensive drink (a Hibiki 30 year-old blended whiskey), you reminisce on how little money you both used to have as teens. He had to be so careful with his wallet whenever he felt like visiting you—or rather, checking in on you—at work. Especially after your master passed. The two of you were very good about staying financially independent, but there was something comforting about your master’s promise to support you if anything ever happened.

With him gone, you and Suo had only financial paranoia and each other.

You guess that might have affected Suo more than you thought. Perhaps he didn't join the yakuza to spite you, but to support you. Certainly, he seems to enjoy spoiling you right now—treating you to drinks that would easily clear a year of his salary as a teen, buying out an entire night of your time at a high end club, renting out a whole floor just so that he can have you to himself. When you point out that his tab must be getting catastrophic, he only laughs.

“I did always say that I wanted to spend money on you,” he recalls. It had been a running joke during your days at the girls’ bar, when you scolded him for paying 3000¥ per hour just to visit you. You hated that he was wasting money on the red light district; he always replied that it wasn't a waste, because it was money spent to see you.

You feel your stomach flutter at the comment. You didn't think he'd remember words from so long ago. As a teenager, you had a tendency of clinging onto small, inconsequential moments with him because they brought you so much joy. You’ve always assumed he would have forgotten them, writing them off as instances of shallow teasing—but if he remembers, then surely they meant something to him too?

This would all make you feel sentimental if you weren't outrageously horny.

Suo has kept you on his lap the whole evening, even as you pour him drinks. Every movement to serve him has you involuntarily rubbing on his thigh, and you're quite certain at this point that he's been lifting your skirt up inch by inch with every casual touch on your waist. You don't bother accusing him of it, though. He'd just give you an innocent look and say that it was an accident. What a horrible man.

Accident or not though, it doesn't change the fact that your nearly bare cunt is pressed right against him. You keep trying to shift positions to pull down your skirt or lift yourself off him, but each attempt only makes it worse—brings the soft fabric of his pants right against your pussy, or makes your clit drag against his thigh, with only your thong separating your bodies. You try to suppress your arousal, but to your overwhelming horror, you can't seem to control yourself. You feel yourself getting wet, folds quickly becoming slick as you’re forced to grind on him. Your body, already warm from all the cocktails and shots, grows even hotter as you squirm on his lap.

In a desperate move to regain some control, you fully get up to reach for another drink. But then you feel a pair of hands on your waist, and Suo pulls you back onto his leg—this time forcing you to straddle it. You can't help the whimper that leaves you as your dripping cunt is spread and pressed against him, your clit throbbing against his thigh.

You pray that he doesn't notice the noise, so of course he does.

“Hm? Is something wrong?” Suo’s hand drifts over your waist and down to your thigh, where it ghosts over your bare skin. He leans in, and his voice is silky as he speaks into your ear: “You're moving around a lot. Do you need to get up?”

He’s giving you an out. It's quite considerate of him, as staying like this would not be a good decision. But for better or worse, you have a tendency to make bad ones.

“...no, I'm fine.”

“Good,” he says. “Let me know if you’re uncomfortable at all. I'm happy to move if you'd like.”

As if demonstrating, Suo shifts the leg you're sitting on, directly rubbing it against your core. You try not to shudder, feeling yourself get even wetter, clenching around nothing.

Trying to ignore how empty you are, you grasp for other topics of conversation, something to distract you. A little scrambled from the alcohol and catastrophically aroused, you of course land on the one that's been making your sex drive unmanageable.

“Remember a month ago,” you say, “how you talked about choosing who gets to touch me?”

“Yes.” His palm is warm against your thigh. He isn't moving it, so there's plausible deniability, but the amused tone of his voice suggests that he knows what he's doing. “Does that bother you?”

Of course it should bother you. It's a level of control that's appalling even to your anxiously-attached ass. But it’s also making you wetter right now. You try not to cry—from misery or sexual frustration, you're not sure.

“Well, yeah. Come on, Suo—even you should know that's really weird of you.”

“I do,” he says, smiling like he isn't admitting to deranged behaviour. “But how else am I supposed to know you're safe? Or even aside from being safe—if your needs are being met.” His hand runs up and down your thigh before settling at the hem of your dress. “I wouldn't want you to go unsatisfied. Who knows what kind of people you'd seek out if that happened.”

You actively stop yourself from putting your face in your hands. The gall of him saying this after forcing you into extended celibacy is beyond words, especially as you're being forced to rub up on him, effectively ruining every attempt you've made not to think about him sexually for the past several years. There are many materially consequential reasons for your decision to not fuck Suo—you should not be soaked through your panties, your thighs sticky with need, as you sit on his lap.

“That's,” you say lamely, “not very normal of you.” Trying for a less sensual conversation, you go for the reliable topic Sakura’s romance radar: “Also, if satisfaction was your concern, why did you choose Sakura? I love that guy a lot, but he has literally no experience. And I think he'd blue-screen trying to keep a friend with benefits. You know he can't handle a fuckbuddy.”

You are not trying to be mean. What Sakura objectively needs for his first time is someone sweet and emotionally competent and, most importantly, not an absolute freak like you. This is a failure of your character, not his.

You can hear Suo’s smile in his reply: “I don't think you're giving him enough credit.”

“He has the social skills of a feral cat.”

Suo genuinely laughs. “Sure, when he first came to Makochi. But he's much better now. Plus, you have no room to talk. I mean”—his breath sweeps over your ear—“you used to be pretty wild yourself. I've just domesticated you is all… though you've been misbehaving lately.”

His words do something horrible to you. Trying to distract yourself from the mounting sexual tension, you turn to him to give him a biting retort, but you're abruptly stopped by the look in his eye. Distinctly hungry and unrepentant in its desire, his gaze roams openly and shamelessly along the curves of your body.

You feel like you're being eaten alive.

Plenty of customers have looked at you in such a way when you wear this outfit, but none have had this effect on you—which is to say, making you clench immediately.

You try not to cry. You actually will cum on the spot at this rate, and you don't think you could be subtle about it. You're barely keeping it together right now, with how your pussy keeps fluttering and dripping. Coupled with the way that the alcohol is melting the edges of your self-control, you're shocked you haven't at least moaned yet.

In a last ditch effort to save your friendship, as well as your rental (house arrest) situation, you slap a hand over his mouth.

“Stop that.”

Suo laughs. He grabs your wrist, lifts your palm away. “Why?”

Why? Because if you keep talking like that, I'll bend over and start begging you to fuck me! you think. But even in your inebriated, horny state, it feels like a poor idea to admit this aloud. You end up saying, “Hostesses aren't paid to flirt like this. Strictly speaking, we’re paid to be conversational partners.” You frown at him. “You're breaking a lot of club rules right now.”

This reprimand backfires on you, as you are suddenly filled with intrusive thoughts of breaking every single rule in this establishment with Suo, including the ones preventing you from climbing on top of him and riding him raw. You squirm at the thought, wishing you could close your legs rather than making a mess of your underwear (now a lost cause), but Suo’s grip stays firm on your waist.

He, himself, is unbothered by your scolding. “Okay,” he says simply. “Then I won't speak to you as a hostess. I want to speak to you, seriously, as a friend.”

His smile is so disarming, it makes you nervous. But he sounds earnest enough for you to be curious, and anyway, you're desperate for something to distract you from your wet cunt.

“Alright,” you acquiesce, “What do you have to say, as a friend?”

“I just have one question.”

“Sure. Shoot.”

His hand comes to rest in your thigh again. He leans in, breath so hot against your ear that your heart jumps.

“I can accept that you wanted to see customers just to satisfy your urges. But tell me why you didn't come to me first.”

You freeze up. Look at him, wide-eyed.

“Wh-what?”

Suo just smiles. Looks so fucking innocent you wonder if you misheard, but his voice is sharp when he replies: “Let me put it another way. Why have we never slept together?”

For some reason, you’ve never thought that he'd ask you this question point blank, even though you've asked it to yourself many times. It takes you several moments to piece together a response, during which Suo’s expression turns distinctly wicked. A sign that he smells blood.

“Why would you think we would have?” you ask carefully.

“Because we’ve both clearly thought about it. You especially.”

You try to keep a straight face. “No I haven't. I don't know what you're talking about.” You raise a brow. “How would you even know?”

“Because,” he says, hand inching up your thigh, “you’re so wet that I can feel it.”

You're mortified.

Shame floods your body, first because of the accusation, and then because you know it's true. You were tipsy enough not to think about this, but now—sobering up from sheer panic— you're acutely aware of how you've soaked through the fabric beneath you. Something that Suo had certainly known, and chose to encourage.

What a horrible man.

When you don't reply, he tilts his head. “Don't tell me you haven't noticed. Do you want me to show you?”

His hand is moving so slowly, you know he's giving you another out. You could easily get off his lap. You could even slap him and call him a sleazy drunk and grouse at him to go home. You could forgive him in the morning for coming onto you and say he'd obviously made an inebriated mistake, as opposed to a very calculated decision. Your friendship would stay mostly intact. His grip on you might tighten, but that would be fine. You would still get to stay with him.

And that's all you've ever wanted. Just to stay with him.

But you're so wet, so empty, so aching. You want to be touched. You want to be touched by Suo, and only by Suo. You want to be fucked by him, to be owned by him, to be ruined by him. You’ve wanted it so badly and so long that you can't even remember when it started—only that you want it to end.

So instead of moving away, you sit there and endure the humiliation of getting your cunt inspected by him.

Suo hums as he opens your legs. You suppress a whimper as a finger moves along your folds, at the noise it makes as it runs through your slick. “Look, you’re so wet,” he murmurs into your ear. He finds your clit—swollen, neglected, and you whimper as he starts to draw slow, lazy circles around it. “Poor thing.”

“It’s only because you had me grinding on you the whole night,” you say through gritted teeth. “It doesn't—ngh—doesn’t mean I’ve been wanting to fuck you.”

You sound pissed enough that you'd convince anyone else, but you know, even without seeing his face, that Suo can tell you're bullshitting.

“You’re not a good liar,” he remarks. A fine teacher even when humiliating people, Suo can't help but add, “If you have to tell a lie, at least come up with a believable one.”

“What makes it unbelievable?” you reply, words clipped off by a sharp inhale as he starts rubbing your pussy.

“Well,” he starts nonchalantly, as if he isn't toying with your cunt, “after you were targeted in that succession conflict, I put hidden cameras in the area, and also in our suite.”

Your eyes go wide. Even in your aroused state, the implications are making you panic. “You—you what?”

“It was for security purposes,” he dismisses casually, as if he's not admitting to a serious invasion of privacy. “Only near the front door and the common areas. I just wanted to catch intruders and any suspicious behaviour from my men. But imagine my surprise”—you feel his fingers start to press into your cunt—“when I instead caught you fucking yourself on the couch and moaning my name.”

You’re mortified. Humiliated. Mind racing with every instance you were horny and stupid enough to touch yourself in a common space. You think about yelling at him about the cameras, but then you feel two fingers sinking into you, and now you aren't thinking about much at all.

Your mind goes blank as you're stretched open by him. Your cunt is so wet, so empty, but the feeling still makes you whine. Your brow furrows, and you give him a pleading look. Slowly, please.

“Don't worry,” he says in a soothing tone, “I know you can handle this. I've seen you take much bigger. Though”—he shifts, pulls you so you're in between his legs, and now you can feel the length of him against you, hard and aching and huge, what the fuck—“maybe not big enough.”

You tighten around his fingers as he grinds against you. You want him inside you so badly, it hurts. Suo laughs when he feels your desperation, and he sounds so amused that you can't help but feel ashamed. But even more than shame, you feel aroused. You take the rest of his fingers easily, down to the knuckle.

“What the fuck, Suo,” you eventually manage through your panting, though not with much bite. “You weren't—ahh—meant to see any of that.”

“Sorry,” he says, sounding deeply unapologetic. “If it makes you feel any better, I didn't watch much, and I deleted all of it. I didn't need to see that to know you have feelings for me.”

You tense. “What feelings?” you ask, and Suo stops. He pulls his fingers out of you—you breathe sharply at the loss—and manhandles you until you're straddling his lap. Forces you to look at him, into his one eye. It's knife-sharp, brutal, but familiar. You don't struggle, nor do you feel uneasy.

But you do feel like prey.

“Do you remember,” he begins, voice light, “how our master always talked about how important it is to engage with each other’s feelings?”

Fuck.

“No,” you blurt out, and Suo laughs.

“Of course not,” he plays along. “You were always so terrible at it. But I've been doing a bad job too, lately. So”—he reaches beneath your dress, hooks your thong with his fingers—“I wanted to have an honest conversation with you.”

He smiles at you. Actually looks kind and even sounds earnest. What a fucking sociopath. You allow him to slide your underwear down your legs, kicking them off. Now your pussy is completely bare to him, and you can hear the way his breath stops as he touches it again. Three of his fingers push in this time, and you pant openly at the stretch, leaning against him as your body trembles from the stretch. He flexes his fingers experimentally, watching your reactions—your whimpers, your sighs, the way your eyelashes flutter when he brushes that one spot inside you.

“I’ve always had feelings for you,” he starts, using that nonchalant, delicate tone—the specific one that suggests danger, “and I know you’re too smart to have missed that. I’d be fine with it if you didn't return them, but you do.”

“I don't,” you protest, and then his fingers curl and press into your g-spot. You're cut off immediately, gasping at the sudden wave of heat in your belly.

A hand comes up to your chin. He forces you to look at him. “I said I wanted to have an honest conversation, remember.”

“I–I am being honest, I—” Your voice breaks as he starts pumping his fingers. It's slow, gentle, but precise. Tension builds in you at an alarming rate, your thighs getting as slick and messy as his hand. You bury your face into the crook of his shoulder, breathe in his cologne and gasp into his skin, and your mind goes hazy from the euphoria of his touch. Sure, you've hugged Suo before, been held by him before, and god knows you've been touched like this by a ton of other people before—but it feels different now. It feels different when it's Suo who's touching you, different when you’re this close to him while he's drawing all this pleasure out of you. When one hand feels so good inside you and the other one is holding you so intimately.

“Suo,” you whimper, overwhelmed by hot tension in your belly, “I-I’m close, I’m close, oh fuck—

He stops.

Before you can comprehend what's happening, he’s withdrawing his fingers, and all the heat in you is melting away. Your orgasm lost, you come down from your high—nerves frayed, emotions taut.

“Suo,” you say, “what the fuck?”

He gives you a smile. It almost looks nice. “I'm not letting you cum until you tell me the truth.”

You’re going to cry.

You're so wet, so empty, so desperate, and now you feel oddly afraid. You don't like the way he's staring you down. You don't like this line of questioning, this bullshit of engaging with other people's feelings. You’ve never liked it. But you need—need—him to fuck you. You need his fingers inside you and you need to cry into his neck while you finish.

You say, very quietly, “Please, Suo.”

“Please, what?”

It's funny. You've performed begging and crying and submission for countless clients, sometimes during annoyingly rough sessions. You've done it for years. But nothing has ever felt so humiliating as this moment, when you ask your best friend, in the smallest voice possible, “Please touch me.”

“No. Not until you start being honest with me.”

Suo's mouth curls at the devastated look you give him. You hardly even notice that he's adjusting you, having you straddle his thigh again—this time, facing him. You don't register it until your cunt is pressed into the wet spot you left earlier and he's saying, “You can move if you'd like. But I'm not touching you.”

“You’re fucking horrible,” you say with all your heart, but your pussy is throbbing and you're desperate for release. So you finally do what you were desperately trying to stop yourself from doing the whole night—you start grinding on him. Like a fucking animal in heat. It's embarrassing, especially because his leg feels so good against you. The friction on your pussy makes you pant, your eyes squeezing shut as your clit finally gets some pressure. It makes up for the way he’s looking at you, which is sly, handsome, and rage-inducing all at once.

“You really do need to be touched,” he remarks softly. “You said your customers satisfied you. Was that true? Did they properly fuck you?”

“N-no,” you gasp. Your mind feels so cottony now that you're getting some relief. You can barely think, and definitely not enough to lie. “It was—it was—fuck, I never came.”

He hums, satisfied. “There—see? Telling the truth isn't so hard. You can do it again.”

He sounds so condescending. You would ordinarily hate it, but for some reason, it's going straight to your pussy right now, making you drip so much you know you've ruined his pants. You’re getting close, too, just by rubbing yourself on his leg. It doesn't feel quite as good as when his fingers were in you, but it’s something. And it’s making it hard to focus on what he's saying.

“It’s fine if you can't be honest about your feelings,” Suo continues. “Let's assume you're telling the truth, and all you want to do is fuck me. Why haven't you?”

You try to answer him, but you can't. You're too focused on the roll of your hips against his leg. There's too much tension, too much heat. You melt against him again, breathing heavily into his shoulder as you tighten around nothing. His hands come to your waist, as if grounding you, and somehow this makes everything feel even better. You start panting, babbling, I'm close, I'm getting close, Suo, Suo—

His grip tightens, and he stops you in place. You cry in frustration—no tears, but the noise you make is broken.

“Answer my question,” he says. You feel a hand glide along your bare skin, stopping at your inner thigh. “Answer me and I'll touch you.”

“Okay,” you say, as desperate as you are distressed. “Okay, I'll do anything. Anything.”

“Good.” He sounds so pleased.

You put your arms around his neck, for no reason other than you want to. Lifting your hips, you part your legs for him, and you feel so relieved at just the touch of his hand that you sigh—even though all he's doing is running a finger along your slick folds.

You shudder as his fingers play with your sex. Lean your head on his shoulder as he starts to move. You’re so desperate that you start grinding against his hand, whining for him.

“Well, then,” he murmurs. “Tell me why you didn't come to me. This is all you wanted, isn't it?” He rolls your clit between two fingers, making you squirm. “Just to get off, right? I could have done that. You'd have enjoyed it more.”

“It”—your eyelids flutter shut—“it would have been too complicated. Y-you’re my boss, and I pay rent to y-you, and we’ve been friends for so long, I didn't want to make it weird—”

Suo delivers a sharp slap to your pussy.

The contact is so sudden that you yelp. It only stings a little, but it makes your clit ache. The noise it makes is so wet, so filthy, telling of your desperation. And to your shame—even though you have never once in your life enjoyed being handled roughly by your customers—your cunt starts leaking in response.

You whimper, about to burst from frustration. You need to be touched so bad. You need to be touched by him so bad, and you need to cum on his cock or else you'll lose your fucking mind.

“Suo,” you complain, or beg, and you don't even realise that you're tearing up until he swipes his thumb under your eye.

“Try again,” he says gently, but not kindly. “The truth this time, and then I'll make you cum. Why didn't you come to me first? These past few months, or any other time?”

You don't answer him. “Suo, please—” And he moves back so that you're no longer leaning against him. Your lip trembles at the loss of the warmth, which somehow feels worse than the loss of your orgasm. An actual tear rolls down your cheek, and he doesn't wipe this one away.

“Answer me,” he says firmly. Instead of replying, you try to reach for him—wanting to be pressed against his body again, wanting him to draw pleasure out of yours again—but he stills you with his hands.

You feel devastated.

Out of horny, emotional desperation, and an all-consuming need to be fucked, you admit, “I was just scared!”

This is the worst mistake you've ever made.

The minute the words dislodge from your throat, you feel yourself choke up. You don't know why. All you know is that you suddenly can't hold back your tears from your sexual frustration, which for some reason is starting to feel distinctly like a non-sexual kind of angst, which is also strangely painful for your chest.

Because now that you've said it out loud, you can't ignore it.

You want to hide. You want to crawl out of his lap and run out of the establishment. Surely, the mamasan will forgive you for leaving a shift with such a frightening and horrible man, who is currently trying to extort your feelings out of you. But Suo’s grip is solid and unforgiving on you, and all you can do is squirm.

“Scared of what?” Suo asks. His voice has gone soft. Actually soft—not in a way that suggests danger, but a way that suggests you're loved. It makes you tremble.

His arms circle you, and one rubs at your back. It makes you relax very slightly. Or at the very least, it makes you stop wanting to bolt.

“What were you scared of?” he prompts again.

A feeling of defeat washes over you. Suo will figure you out sooner or later. He always does. So you tell him, very quietly, “I was scared that—that you'd leave me.”

You realise that you just stuttered. You stuttered because you're crying. You're actually, genuinely crying. Not from sexual frustration, but because you're just frustrated in general. And miserable. You've been chronically miserable for most of your life, and that misery has had nowhere to go until now.

You press your face into Suo’s shoulder, and he lets you. You breathe deeply in an attempt to stop crying, his cologne washing over you. It's nice, but what feels most comforting is just the scent of him. You're used to it from the days before he'd ever thought about using a fragrance, let alone a fragrance that would bankrupt the average person. It's calming, even when overlayed with ambergris and vanilla. Familiar.

Your breathing evens out a little—but only a little.

“Why would I leave you?” His voice is so kind, patient. More tears bead on your lashes.

“Because you might not want me anymore.” You sound so fragile. Shit, you are fragile. You can't stop the splintering feeling in you, the same one that ate at you two months ago when you thought he was going to leave you. “You could get tired of me or resent me or get bored with me. You could—you could want to throw me away, for no reason. Or—” You breathe in sharply, clinging to him harder.

“Or?”

“Or you could die—you joined the yakuza, so you could die. Why did you do that?” An actual sob leaves you. His shirt is getting wet. You ruined so many of his silk changshan like this in the past, when your boyfriend cheated on you and when your parents kicked you out and when you slept with your fifth customer.

And when your master died.

“I'm still so fucking mad at you for it,” you bite out around your tears. “If you got fucking killed—oh my god, I can't even think about it. I can't—I couldn't take it if—if I kissed you, and we had sex, and then I didn't have you anymore.”

“Why not?”

“Because you’re the only thing I have.” You squeeze your eyes shut, a terrible realisation hitting you. “And…”

“And?”

“And,” you say, voice breaking, “I think because I love you?”

You know it as soon as you voice it. You do love him. Not just platonically, but in the way where you want to hold his hand and kiss him and marry him. In the way a miserable nineteen year old girl is so in love with her miserable best friend that she refuses to leave him despite how terrifying he’s becoming. You loved him in this way before you realised you wanted to have sex with him, and even after that, you loved him so much that it didn't matter that he wasn't having sex with you.

You love him so much it disgusts you.

You want to hide, but Suo forces you to look at him. He brushes away your tears, cups your face. The Pavlovian response takes over: your heart rate slows, and you calm down.

“There,” he says gently. “That wasn't so bad, was it?”

He’s wrong. You bet he knows he's wrong. That was objectively one of the worst experiences of your life. You feel wrung out, tenderised. You never thought you'd say any of that. You're not sure you knew most of that.

But in Suo’s arms, plied open with his words and his hands, you actually find yourself shaking your head. You lean into the touch of his palm.

“I love you,” he continues, his tone so authoritative and calm that it leaves no room for doubt, “probably to the point that it should scare you. Do you understand that?”

“Yes,” you say quietly.

“And we won't be separated. I won't allow anything to take you away from me. Do you understand that too?”

You make a noise, halfway between a relieved sigh and another sob. This declaration should not be a surprise from a man who’s effectively locked you up in his house. Still—your heart feels so light when you hear someone say, for the first time in your life, that they’ll stay with you no matter what. It's like Suo has just unearthed a weight that you didn't know you'd been carrying.

“I’ll try,” you reply, voice small.

“Good.” He strokes your cheek. “Do you want to keep going?”

It’s absurd. You just cried and confessed something terrifying. With anyone else, this would be an experience so horrifying that you'd leave right now and never come back. Your sexual desire should not just be gone, but permanently erased. At the very least, you shouldn't feel the slightest bit horny.

But somehow, being gutted by Suo hasn't left you feeling bad. It's left you feeling lighter. Kind of like you've been purged. You feel exhausted, but in a malleable way. Dazed and relieved to be in his lap. Your thighs are still embarrassingly sticky, heart still embarrassingly wobbly, and you just heard him say that he loves you.

Now you want to hear him say it while he's cumming inside you.

“Yeah,” you admit immediately, pathetically. You sniffle.

“You're sure?” Another stroke. “I want to hear you say it clearly. What do you want to do?”

Your dignity is gone. “I want you to fuck me.”

He smiles. A fond hum leaves him. “Good girl,” he murmurs, and you feel a flutter in your belly. “I'll take care of you now.”

He kisses you this time, before he touches you. On the neck, on your jaw. You bare your nape to him, shivering at the feeling of his lips on your jugular, at his nipping teeth on your skin. You realise he's leaving marks, and with each one, you shudder. It feels so intimate. You're on a rooftop bar, in a skanky hostessing dress, crying and strung out—but this is the closest thing you've ever gotten to one of your fantasies about him. Not the nasty ones that you think about when you're home by yourself, but the ones you think of when you're in bed with various salarymen. The ones where you get to lie with him in bed and press your lips to his.

“Suo,” you start.

“Hayato,” he corrects you. “You're my fiancée now, remember? We should be on a first name basis.”

Your stomach flips. “Hayato,” you try again, breathless. “Please.”

He takes a moment to reply, busy sucking another mark into your skin. “Please, what?”

You hesitate. Suo pulls back, looking at you. You whine, feeling shy all of a sudden. You flirt for a living and yet you feel embarrassed about your request. It's humiliating.

“Please, what?” he repeats. His mouth is curled in a smile, and you can't tell whether it's endeared or entertained. “Please let you cum? Please fuck you?”

“Please kiss me,” you say, in a small voice.

Suo pauses.

“What?”

“Please kiss me,” you beg. Close to tears again, for some reason you don't know. You think it surprises him as much as it does you.

It takes him a moment to recover, but when he does, he gives you a look that’s fucking ravenous.

His thumbs away the wetness from your eyes. “You're so cute sometimes. Did you know that?”

You flush. Plenty of customers have called you cute, but none have had you feeling so indignant nor shy.

“I’m not,” you reply, “and stop that.”

“But it's true. And I want you to know it.”

Suo presses his mouth to yours before you can respond. You're so eager for him that you part your lips immediately. Your instinct is to make your first kiss with him messy and desperate, but he’s in full control, and he’s taking his time. His tongue is careful and precise. Full of intention. His lips are slow, languid, and lazy, like he's savouring the taste of you. A hand plays with the strap of your dress. You feel him slide it off your shoulder—the other one quickly follows—but you’re so absorbed in his kiss, you hardly pay attention.

You're vaguely aware of the breeze against your bare chest. One of his hands moving up, feeling out your curves. He hums into your mouth when his fingers ghost over your nipples, and they harden under his touch.

“Suo,” you whine as he teases them, and he pinches one of them, watching as you squirm.

“Hayato,” he corrects you promptly, and you give him a worn, teary look.

“Hayato.”

“Yes?”

“I need more,” you say quietly.

He smiles, clearly enjoying your desperation. “Be patient,” he teases you. “I’m getting there.”

He kisses a line along your jaw, down your neck. Traces your collarbone with the path of his mouth, works his way down to your breasts. At the same time you feel the heat of his tongue on your nipple, his hand reaches between your legs. You're so wet already that he doesn't need to work you open again—just sinks his fingers inside you until you're sighing for him.

You discover that when he's not antagonising you, Suo is frighteningly efficient with pleasuring you. He learns quickly how you like your tits played with, and how to fuck you so well with his fingers until you're gushing around them and keening. He said he'd take care of you, but you think he's mostly forcing all this pleasure from your body for his own enjoyment. There's no other explanation for how he keeps bringing you to the edge and pulling you back, swallowing each of your whines and complaints with his mouth. The only time he isn't kissing you is when you're begging—and you don't miss the way his breathing deepens every time you do.

But no matter how much you beg, he isn’t letting you cum.

“Look at the mess you're making,” he murmurs as he plays with your cunt. You're sitting between his legs again, your back against his chest. You can feel the length of his cock against your ass, and you hear how his breath hitches every time you squirm against it. Except for that one tell, he sounds completely unaffected by what he's doing—forced you to open your legs wide for him, spread your glistening folds to tease you. The leather beneath your ass is wet, ruined by your need.

“Hayato,” you whine.

“Just a little longer,” he promises, “and then I'll let you cum.”

Your mind is so fogged with pleasure at this point that you can't focus on anything other than Suo’s touch. You’ve actually forgotten where you are—not a truly private space, but part of a club. The girls would normally only come up if you put in an order, but you haven't for a while now.

Long enough for someone to check on you without warning.

You tense as soon as you hear the door open. You recognize the server—she knows you well, by face, stage name, and real name. Your eyes go wide as she calls for you. You try to sit up, close your legs, but Suo grabs one of your thighs and forces it open.

“Suo, wait—”

You whimper, incapable of words when his fingers push into you again. He starts fucking you with them, and in earnest this time—curling his fingers until they're pushing into your g-spot, doing it over and over and over. Your eyes roll back and you stop struggling, and Suo takes the opportunity to touch you with his other hand too, playing with your clit. A strangled moan leaves you as the heat in your gut ratchets up. Pleasure swells in your belly; you feel like you're going to burst.

“Suo,” you cry, tears pricking your eyes, “wait, wait, my coworker—wait, I think—I think I'm gonna—”

“Go ahead,” he says into your ear, voice silky, and he pushes against your sweet spot in a way that gives you no choice but to obey him.

You cum so hard that you squirt all over the seat. Your whole body is wracked with intense pleasure—hips bucking violently, legs twitching, crying so loudly and shamelessly that your coworker naturally hears. She catches you spread wide open in Suo’s lap, his fingers deep in your messy, swollen cunt as you drench them.

Her tray clatters to the floor.

Fighting the mindless haze that your body is in, you glance at the other girl, whose hand is over her mouth. She looks appalled. She’s going to yell at you. But then you then watch, in real time, as her eyes travel to your customer’s face and she realises who he is. If she was red when she saw the two of you, she's now a pale white.

“Did you come to check on us?” Suo asks. He sounds amused. She flinches at his voice, and actually takes a step backward. “We’re fine for now. We’ll order something in a bit, and call you up here as usual.”

“O-okay,” she says, voice high and tense. “I—I’ll leave you two, then. Please—please enjoy yourself, sir. We'll be available in case you require any other services.” And she walks away briskly, almost in a run. She doesn't even bother to stop the expressly forbidden act that you're engaged in.

Once she’s gone, Suo allows you some dignity. He pulls his fingers out of you, lets you catch your breath.

“Oops,” he says. “It’s too bad they caught us. I suppose they won't want to keep you on as an employee, since you broke such an important rule.”

You stare at him, wide-eyed. Your emotional and sexual pliability quickly dissipates, replaced by disbelief.

“You—you did that on purpose,” you say between pants, too fucked out to be truly angry, but still appalled.

Suo raises a brow, gives you an innocent look. “Did I? I was just making you cum, like you've been begging all night. It was just unfortunate timing.” He then smiles, which makes him look incredibly kind despite the apparent sadism of his person. “But it's fine. They're going to fire you for this, but you know my club will always take you back.”

You close your eyes and groan. “You’re horrible.”

“I am, aren't I?” Suo puts his arms around you, kisses you on the shoulder, his voice getting low. “But this is a better arrangement, don't you think? You won't need to see customers this way. Every time you need relief, you can come upstairs and I'll give you my cock instead.” He grinds against you, letting you feel how hard he is, and you whimper. He laughs, probably entertained at how desperate you sound. “Or maybe I'll just make you take it whenever I feel like it. I think at the end of every shift makes sense, doesn't it? Since that's how often you've been touching yourself on the couch.”

“S-suo.”

“It’s Hayato now, remember. What is it, dear?”

He sounds so smug, mocking you. You should be furious. But in your fucked out state, all you can focus on is the idea of being forced to take Suo's cock every night. Despite already being ruined, your pussy starts throbbing again. You squirm and press your thighs together, trying to get it to stop—you’re so fucking tired—and you bleakly realise that you can't control your body’s reactions around him. You're getting wet again. It makes you want to cry.

“Hayato,” you whimper, on the verge of tears.

“Ah, you addressed me properly. Good.” He’s so satisfied. “What is it?”

“I…”

“You?”

“I”—your voice is so small and embarrassed, you can hardly believe it—“I want you to fuck me.”

He feigns shock, as if he wasn't actively provoking this. “Really? But you just came.” A hand prods between your legs. You obediently spread them for him, and he checks your pussy with two of his fingers. You moan a little at the intrusion, but there's no resistance at all.

Your cunt, still dripping, tightens around him, and he laughs softly.

“You really do need a cock in you. Who knew you had such a needy pussy.” He curls his fingers. Probably feeling the way it makes you gush, delighting in the gasp it draws out of you. “No wonder you have to use that toy every day.”

You're about to die of embarrassment. “Hayato. Please just fuck me.”

Suo turns you so that you can look at him. He’s wearing a kind, benevolent face when he says, “No.”

“...what?”

“I'm not going to give you my cock.” He hums, contemplative. “Not for a while, I think.”

“B-but,” you say, genuinely upset, “but you were just talking about doing that at work.”

“Sure—after we get married. It's only proper, don’t you think?”

“What?” Your eyes are wide in disbelief. “You—you just made me cum with your fingers. In a public space.”

“Yes. But that's different from letting you have my cock. It wouldn't be gentlemanly of me to do that before we’re wedded.” He can't keep the amusement out of his voice as he bullies you. “I'm sure you can wait until the summer, right? Since that's the season you chose for us. August, I think you told Nirei.”

“Hayato—”

“Actually,” he muses, easily sliding a third finger into you, making your voice clip off in a whimper, “I think you shouldn’t be allowed to have anything in you until then. Except for my fingers and tongue, of course. But no toys, and no other men either. That definitely wouldn't be proper.”

“I'm going to,” you say spitefully—and tearfully. “If you don't fuck me right now, I will sleep with other people.”

“I don't think you want to find out the consequences if you do.”

“How would you even—ngh—know?”

“Good question.” He starts pumping his fingers, and to your horror, your cunt needily swallows them with each motion, your body as desperate as he's been saying. “I guess I'll need to check your pussy every night. See if it's been stretched out by someone else’s cock. Maybe upstairs in the lounge at the end of each night, so I'll know that you haven't fucked a customer during a shift. Clearly, it's not impossible that you would.”

You try not to sob. Not only are his words utterly humiliating, they're making you wetter. After fucking so many people in so many ways, you didn't know it was possible for you to feel this much shame during sex—but then again, shaming people is one of Suo’s specialties.

You give him the teariest look possible, because by now you've figured out that he likes seeing you cry. Sadistic motherfucker. You're happy to use it to your advantage though.

He gets that hungry look in his eye again. “Please, Hayato,” you beg, voice trembling with need, “I want more. I thought I was your beautiful wife already.” You grind your ass against his cock, and he inhales sharply. “Don't you wanna cum in your wife’s pussy?”

Suo stops, deeply affected—just as you guessed he'd be. After making you his fake wife in both his criminal life and his civilian one, it's painfully obvious that the man is obsessed with marrying you. You'd make fun of him if you weren't so horny. Or humbled.

He only allows himself speechlessness for a second. He hums soon after, delicately wiping the tears out of your eyes. “You've been good enough that I guess I can reward you. I won't fuck you, but”—he shifts away, and you can hear his pants unzipping—“I’m sure you'll enjoy yourself anyway.”

Suo wasn't lying earlier. His cock is bigger than any toy you've ever used. It's pretty, too. Curved and long and flushed at the head. Glistening with prespend, which has pearled up at the tip. You think you might be salivating. For a minute, you contemplate asking if you can feel it in your throat, but then Suo’s lying down and moving you on top of him. When his cock nudges at your folds, you can’t help your excitement. You squirm, trying to sink onto his length.

His grip tightens on your waist, stopping you.

You’re about to whine at him about this, but he doesn't give you the chance. “If you try to ride me,” he says, in a voice so cold that you know he's not joking, “I'm not touching you until we’re married, and I'm not letting you touch yourself either.”

“...”

With anyone else you'd call bullshit, but you know that Suo is both crazy and petty enough to actually achieve this.

“Okay.” You sound and feel mollified. “I'll behave.”

He smiles. “Good,” he says cheerfully. “Just stay like that, then. I’ll take care of you.”

You listen to him, mostly because you're incredibly excited about getting pussy inspections and you'll be devastated if it doesn't happen. And you don't expect it to be a big deal, anyway. While your sex drive has been a constant source of grief for you throughout your life, you don't really have problems controlling any specific impulses in bed when you truly need to. You’re used to giving your customers whatever they want and, if you're lucky, getting off from it. You figure this will be the same.

You find out very quickly that it isn't.

You need to stay still. You can’t sink down on him. Two easy orders that are extraordinarily difficult when Suo is the one beneath you. You have to actively stop your hips from moving when you feel the silky head of his cock press into your folds, which are still dripping with your slick. Suo’s breath hitches when he runs the tip along your opening, drawing wet noises every time his cock head catches on your needy hole, smearing his precum all over it. All you want is to push back on him and let your pussy swallow his cock. You’re aching for it, and you know he is too. If you sank down on him now, he'd lose control and fuck you raw until he was cumming inside you. And then he'd probably keep going after that, not letting you move until you were stuffed full and dripping with his spend. Both of you know it.

But you don't do that. You're good for him. You sigh, just trying to enjoy the feeling of his length rubbing against you. How he's twitching and throbbing against you, how he wants as equally much to be inside you—but pulls back every time. Your mind goes a little fuzzy with the drawn out, low hum of pleasure, and you close your eyes.

Then he starts pushing into you.

“H-Hayato?” You whimper at the intrusion, at being made to take something so thick without warning. “I thought you weren't gonna—”

“I'm not,” he says. His breathing is heavier, his words strained, but his voice is still commanding when he says, “Don’t move.”

Suo doesn't give you the whole thing, just the tip. It is much harder to control yourself like this—when you can feel yourself getting stretched by the head of his cock, already so fat and heavy, but you don't get filled up by it. It makes you aware of how empty you are, and how wet you're getting. You bury your face into his neck and make a noise that's both tearful and pathetic.

It's not acting when you whine, in a watery, miserable way, “Please, Hayato. I need your cum in me.”

It's probably the crying that gets him. He inhales sharply, thrusting maybe a little deeper than intended. You groan at the extra inch of cock, eyes rolling back, and can't help the way your pussy tightens and drips, trying to suck him in.

“Fuck,” he says, and then he pulls out.

He lays you flat on your back. Before you can get so much as a word out, he's between your legs and pressing his cock against your entrance. For possibly the happiest moment of your life, you think Suo is going to fuck you—but instead he starts pushing the slick head of his cock right against your neglected clit.

You aren't going to complain.

You whimper as he starts rubbing against your sex, leaving his prespend all over your swollen bud. It makes you squirm, grinding yourself against it, and you press your legs together to get some more pressure for the both of you. Soon his cock is sliding between your thighs, getting them all sticky with his prespend. You can feel the length of him hot and slick against your folds, heavy and throbbing.

You've never cum like this before. It was never enough stimulation when your customers made you do this, which nearly all of them have. But the pressure on your clit and on your folds is shockingly intense as the two of you move, enough to make you whimper as a familiar tension builds. It's not as overwhelming as when his fingers were inside you, but it's enough for you to start panting at the tension in your belly. You can hear Suo’s breath picking up as you start to whine, and he watches you, almost predatorial, as another orgasm crashes over you. You moan his name as you cum, squeezing a few more tears out of your eyes.

He stares at your flustered, wet face as he pushes the head of his cock against your entrance again, fisting himself as it flutters and drips in the aftershock of your orgasm. Suo’s been hard for so long, for the whole time he's teased and bullied you—you aren't surprised at how close he already is. Especially not when you start talking about how much you need his cum in you, how empty your pussy feels without it, how badly you want your husband to fill you up. All with your mascara smeared and your lip trembling, a sight that makes him throb.

Suo groans as he finally cums. You can feel his cock twitching, warmth spurting out onto your folds, and then into your pussy as he thrusts shallowly into you. You pull him down needily as he fills you, and he indulges you with a sloppy, open-mouthed kiss.

When he pulls out, you can feel his cum drip out of you, all the way down to the couch. You make a happy noise at the mess he's made of your hole, giving him a lovestruck, dreamy expression.

“You should do that every night after you're done checking my pussy,” you sigh.

Suo’s mouth curls, and breathes out a kind of laugh. He holds your face, and one of his tassels brush against the shell of your ear as he presses his forehead to yours. “I’ll do it if you're good for me.”

“I’ll be on my best behaviour until our wedding night,” you promise, voice affectionate.

Suo gives you a fond look. His expression is so sentimental. You think he’s going to say something sweet.

“Alright,” he replies. “Then be good for me and keep the rest of that inside you, okay? Let’s not make a mess of these floors. I don't want to get blacklisted from this club.”

You open and close your mouth, completely speechless.

“You're fucking horrible,” you say with all your heart, and he laughs and kisses you, and kisses you, and kisses you. He doesn't stop until you're placated and horny again.

Suo takes his sweet time pushing his cum into you as deeply as possible, saying that it's to make sure you don't lose any of it, but really so he can draw another orgasm out of you. Knowing that the mamasan might take pity on you and think that you were coerced into degrading sexual acts by a terrifying yakuza client, he makes sure to order a drink beforehand, calling up a server. (I don't want to be a bad patron, he hums as he looks at the tablet, and I said I'd get you to the number 1 ranking, right?) It subsequently looks, sounds, and is completely consensual when you're found pulling at Suo’s hair, keening as he fingers his cum into you while sucking on your clit.

This leaves you with no hope of continued employment on all of Keisei Street.

To add insult to injury, you do make a mess of the floors, despite Suo’s conscientious efforts to avoid this—though it's not as bad as the one you left on the couch. You also can't find your thong anywhere, which you guess is something else that the mamasan won’t appreciate when she finds it. Still, for the rest of the night, everyone shows Suo nothing but the utmost respect and highest quality customer service. They even ask how he found your company and if he has any feedback for you. He praises your conversational skills, karaoke abilities, and how capable you were in catering to his many needs. He also lets them know that you'll be resigning.

Hanzo and Shuuhei are waiting to pick you up, bringing the Rolls Royce with the privacy suite. This time, Suo doesn't use it to interrogate you; he instead uses it to kiss you and tease you and discuss wedding plans. If it'll be indoors or outdoors. If you'll have a big reception or a small one. If it'll be a traditional wedding, or if you’ll want a Chinese one like the one your master would have maybe liked to see. You settle on having a Shinto ceremony and a Chinese-style reception. Having been raised Chinese, whenever Suo imagined marrying during his teenage years, you were always in a red qipao. His master even once told him that if he managed to win your heart, he'd organise a tea ceremony and act in the role of Suo’s father.

After disclosing these facts (the first of which makes your heart weak, and the second of which leaves it aching), he asks about any long-standing things you've always wanted to do with him as a couple. If you had any silly or indulgent daydreams about your future with him, and what they were like.

“I don't know,” you admit. “I guess after you applied to teacher’s college, I liked the idea of marrying you, and doing all the domestic things you talked about. Though you were just joking at the time.”

You don't really expect him to remember much about this particular line of teasing. Sure, the man is currently obsessed with marrying you, and maybe he daydreamed about it a little bit when he was younger—but he mostly treated the idea as a funny joke when he was a teenager. All of the teasing has probably blurred together for him over the years. Certainly, it has for you.

But you've never been able to forget this particular memory. It’s one of those small, inconsequential moments that you find yourself incapable of letting go to this day. You loved hearing him talk about getting married, even though it hurt immensely that it was probably just teasing. You loved it because you wanted it. You wanted Suo to teach people because you knew he was good at it and it would make him genuinely happy. You wanted to stop working in the red light district and make a nice and safe home for Suo, just as he'd made a nice and safe home for you. And you wanted to marry him and kiss him and have sex with him and only him for the rest of your life.

You wanted it so badly, it still makes you heart ache to think about it.

He was definitely just teasing you, though. Suo was a sane person at the time, and sane people do not actually plan a marriage and life with someone before dating them or even fucking them. Most importantly, a sane person wouldn't hold onto such a silly joke for so long. Oh, you expect him to say, laughing. You're right, I had nearly forgotten.

But all he does is give you a smile. It's one of his strange, enigmatic ones.

“No, I was quite serious about it,” Suo says, looking right at you.

You stare at him.

“Really?”

“Really.”

He's being so straightforward, so earnest. Your typical reaction would be to feel flustered, sentimental—but something about his expression and tone bothers you. But before you can suss out what it is, he continues, and the moment passes.

“Was there anything else you ever wanted to do?” he asks smoothly.

You're startled, off-guard. “Oh, um… not really. I never let myself think too much about it.”

“Come on,” he prods. “There must be something.”

“No, I really didn't think of any ideas on my own. Although…”

Your face gets hot as you trail off. Suo senses weakness, and goes in for the kill.

“Although?”

“It's too embarrassing,” you admit, looking away, and Suo looks a little too interested as he pesters you for an answer.

“Come on, it's fine.” His mouth curls in a way that tells you it's not fine. “I promise I won't judge you. I just want to know what I can do to make you happy as your husband.”

You give him an uncertain look, and say your only concrete fantasy about him so quickly and quietly that he misses it.

“Pardon?” he asks.

“...romantic, vanilla sex.”

Suo blinks. “What?”

Your face burns with humiliation.

“I used to think about having romantic, vanilla sex with you. When I was a teenager. A lot.” Said as if you weren't just thinking about it two months ago in a love hotel, and still don't want it now. You wouldn't even bring it up if you didn't think it was necessary. But unfortunately, you're professionally skilled at perceiving people’s sexual interests, and you've perceived that Suo is sexually a freak. He was definitely going easy on you tonight, and is probably actively planning to get worse. You'll never have normal sex with him unless you explicitly state a desire for it.

Suo gives you a surprised look. “That's… a very mundane fantasy.”

“It wouldn't have been mundane to me,” you reply, somewhat defensively. “I used to think about it when I slept with my customers, who weren't very romantic. Or vanilla. So I didn’t really have a good reference point or anything for that kind of sex, but sometimes I still thought about doing it with you after they had left.”

You look away after saying this, wondering why you disclosed all of that. It certainly wasn't necessary for your dream of someday taking Suo’s cock without being psychosexually tortured first. Now you feel like you need to hide. You even think about excuses for stopping the car, and ponder again how difficult it would be to live without proof of identity, if you chose to run away.

But Suo doesn't let you run. He pulls you close to him, wrapping you up in his warmth.

“It's okay,” he says gently, in a voice that reminds you of how he was in his old Furin days. “You'll be okay. I'll make sure of it.” It confuses you deeply, and you turn to ask him what the fuck he's going on about.

You don't even realise you're crying until he starts kissing away your tears.

You can’t understand why you’re weeping. Maybe something strange and hormonal happened while you were having sex, like Suo made you orgasm too hard and all the oxytocin is making you depressed now. Though you think that hormone is supposed to make you happy. You're not sure. You never finished school, so you wouldn't know.

Whatever the reason, you hastily wipe away your tears. A hand rubs at your back, and you let yourself press your face into his shoulder.

“Sorry,” you say quickly.

“Don't apologise. You don't have anything to be sorry for.”

You hesitate as you breathe against the silk threads of his shirt, thinking about how many of his shirts you've ruined with your tears. At least three changshan and one Versace summer piece, by your count. It’s not like he hurts over the money these days, but guilt tugs at your heart.

“I don't know about that,” you mumble into his shoulder. And it takes a while to work yourself up to saying it, but eventually you whisper, with full honesty, “I'm sorry for always worrying you.”

“I know,” Suo says. He sounds sincere when he says, “I’m sorry too.”

“I’ll try to be better from now on.”

“You will be. And even if you aren’t, that's fine.”

For some reason, that makes your heart squeeze.

You melt against Suo after that, listening to the steady roll of tires and passing traffic outside. There's a gentle pitter patter of rain against the car roof, tinny and rhythmic, that gradually crescendos into a proper storm. The windshield wipers squeak against the glass. All of the noise is lulling you into a kind of peace, or maybe you're just feeling that way because Suo is holding you.

Fatigue wears your consciousness, and you close your eyes. The hustle and bustle of the red light district grows distant, faint—partly from slipping in and out of your dreams, and partly from the quieting world outside. It's now completely silent other than the heavy rainfall. You think they must be taking the road through Makochi. Suo asks for it whenever he wants you to sleep well.

He probably thinks you're asleep when he says, “I’m sorry for being how I am now.”

You almost stop breathing. Almost.

“You didn't fall in love with me when I was like this, so you must not like it very much,” he continues. “I know that Master wouldn't like me much either, if he were alive. He always said that you should support your loved ones until they can stand on their own two feet. But lately, I feel like all I've been doing is breaking yours.”

He sighs. The sky groans with distant thunder.

“Sakura knows who I really am, you know,” he says quietly. “I think he's worried about what'll happen to you if we get married. Though he’s been worried about you for a while.” Suo almost sounds endeared when he adds, “Did you know he only texts me now to ask if you're okay? He really does love you.”

He’s more sombre when he continues, “But Nirei is just afraid of me. That’s why he’s never around. He’s going to call you in a week and tell you not to go through with the wedding. He’ll probably tell you to leave me too. It’s good advice.”

It's hard to keep your breathing slow, with how badly your heart hurts.

“I’ve tried to go back to how I was, to the kind of person that Master was trying to raise,” Suo confesses. “But I don't think I can get better.”

But even if you can't, you want to tell him, that’s fine. You wish you could hold him how he's always held you.

“It doesn't usually upset me nowadays,” he admits after some time, “how I am now. But to be honest, talking about our school days did make me feel bitter, because I can't give you the things I know you wanted.”

He kisses the top of your head. Gently, so as not to wake you from your dream.

“I'm sorry I never became a teacher. I'm sorry I joined the yakuza. I'm sorry I can't give you a normal life. And I'm sorry I can’t have an honest conversation with you.”

Silence. You feel his chest stop briefly, his breathing deepen.

“Maybe someday, I'll get better enough to say these things to you while you're awake. Maybe someday, I'll even get better enough to let you leave. It would be best for you.”

His voice gets even softer. Tender.

“But for now, I don't know how to let you go.”

You feel a hand shifting away, the soft noise of leather against skin. Then both arms around you again, even warmer, even tighter. He’s leaning his head against yours. You think Suo is falling asleep.

Allowing yourself a single, quick glance at the car, you peer at your reflections in the rearview mirror. You see sheets of rain sliding against the back window, his dark lashes pressed to his skin, and all the scar tissue he likes to keep hidden away.

And you can see, very clearly, tears beneath his missing eye.

END 'TOKYO VICE'

hi everyone thanks for reading this chapter!!!! i hope it didn't disappoint after all the shitposting i did about it this week lol

can i just say. this was straight up the weirdest sex scene I've ever written HASLKFJSDF and the mood whiplash throughout this was probably the craziest i've ever written within a single piece. unfortunately, this reader copes with her trauma via humour and sex and it really shows rip. i hope it wasn't too offputting!

thank you to everyone who left a comment on part 1!! please do let me know if you enjoyed part 2 as well. <333

tagging @kweenkatsuki-fics and @stuckindreamland06!

#srb #<3333

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will-o-the-witch · 3 years ago

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Sharing Fake Hebrew with Goyiche Kabbalists to See If They Notice

Jewish mysticism has been heavily fetishized and appropriated by the occult community at large. This highly-complex subject is often passed around between goyiche practitioners with little to no cultural/academic understanding of what they're working with. Instead of learning through the proper channels, they learn from widely-antisemitic historical occultists who also didn't learn through the proper channels. Despite never bothering to learn how to speak, read, or understand Hebrew, many will tout it as an inherently mystical language carrying Ancient Jewish Truths in it and use it on everything. To make a long story short, it's cultural appropriation and antisemitism. So my Jewish ass decided to fuck around.

Keep in mind as we move forward- this all could have been avoided with one visit to google translate, so this is largely a social experiment to see who bothers to check their resources/pay attention to the language, and who accepts anything written in Hebrew at face value.

SEAL #1- SOUP'S UP

The center text here says tomato soup. The text around the star points says garlic bread. The Latin at the bottom is the scientific word for tomato. The alchemical symbols mean salt, water, potassium, boil, and mix thoroughly. I joined a discord server devoted to kabbalah, hermeticism, and other occult philosophy/esotericism. There's a room for conspiracy theories and another "cringe corner" that seems to mostly just be memes featuring fascism, antisemitism, and transphobia. I posted this seal in their resource channel and told them it helps people see through lies.

Everybody accepted it right away and one person asked me to make another one for improving at math, so I gave him this:

Seal #2- Be Not Afraid

This translates to "I am afraid of squirrels." The symbols were randomly selected and have no extra meaning.

In fainess, one person did ask what the Hebrew said. Not wanting to do the work for them, I said that I didn't know because I'd had a friend translate it for me. Even knowing that I didn't know what it meant, nobody had any objections.

I would have stayed longer, but the "memes" and general conversation was pretty antisemitic and I dipped to avoid psychic damage.

The next server was LHP/demonolatry focused and had Hebrew in the title. (The Hebrew did match the English title.) After joining the appropriation ran even deeper, they covered everything. There's an antisemitic user I've kicked out of other servers before in here. (They claim to have learned more Hebrew than most Jewish people. Cute.) They actually did catch it right away but tried to goysplain why I had spelled it wrong because they started reading from the wrong spot. When I pointed out I remembered their antisemitism they continued to act like they couldn't possibly be antisemitic and all Jews were just wrong I guess. They've gotten much more aggressive. Honestly at this point I remembered that antisemitism just not going to go away, and more people prefer to dig in their heels and attack the people they claim to fetishize the second we say something they don't like. I left pretty quickly because I could feel my heart pounding and didn't want to sour my day by letting it consume me. I think I'm going to stop for a bit, but I wanted to just share this story. Take it for what you will. That said, if anyone would like to take up the helm and continue blessing appropriators with good soup and a fear of squirrels please feel free (and tell me if they notice!)

#judaism #jewitch #jewish witch #cultural appropriation

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nevertheless-moving · 4 years ago

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Star Wars AU #20: MacenJar AU

Inspired by this meme and with permission from @simpskywalker

This au is dedicated to everyone who told me that this concept ‘gave them a headache’ or ‘psychic damage’. Especially that special someone who begged me to ‘please stop’ because ‘i hate this, i hate this so much’ and told me ‘please don’t say more words about this.’

Crack Lies Ahead, enough to consume a man. I have spoken.

“Ani. Ani. Anakin Skywalker.”

“Hmm?” The dulcet sounds of Padme calling his name dragged Anakin from sleep against his will.

“Anakin, you have to get up.”

He groaned, rolling over. “...here’s my face...I’ll...be awake in a second...just sit down...I’m awake...”

“No, Anakin you have to leave, remember. You have a 5 AM take-off scheduled, and you made me promise I would get you up early this time, come on.”

She cruelly yanked the covers away. He gasped in betrayal.

“My own wife...how could you.”

“Anakin if you’re not out of bed in the next 30 seconds the next time you beg to stay the night because ‘you can get up early, you swear’ I am kicking you out before anyone sits anywhere near anyone’s face, do you understand.”

He sat bolt upright and stumbled out of bed. “Ok, Ok, I’m up I- Padme!”

“Yes?” She asked sweetly, brushing her hair at the vanity.

“It’s 3 AM!”

“Yes I know, you were going to stop at that bakery I recommended, remember?”

“You woke me up an hour and half early so I could stop at a bakery,” he asked, disbelieving.

“Yes, Anakin, it was your idea. It was going to be your cover, in case anyone wondered what you were doing in the building.”

“That is-” before he could call it the stupidest idea he had ever heard, the memory of promising Padme that staying the night was a good idea because it would facilitate his cunning ruse (he was distracted, ok? Padme was wearing a lot of layers) came rushing back.

“-right,” he finished lamely.

Padme just hummed and began braiding in her cosmetic forcefields.

Anakin managed to stretch, complete his morning refresher run, and arrange his robes in a suitably decorous fashion by the time Padme had established the base layer of her hairstyle for the day.

A quick kiss- no goodbye, it hurt too much to say goodbyes in war - and Anakin was out the door.

He idly scratched his chin, vacantly looking out the lift and vaguely considering growing a beard. The pre-dawn view was quickly replaced by metal walls as the ride dropped below the skyline.

The transparisteel pod began to slow scarcely one third of the way down. Anakin suppressed a groan and tried to arrange his expression in Jedi-stoic manner, hoping that whoever got in the lift with him would be too intimidated by seeing a Jedi close-up to think about what they were doing in a Senatorial Apartment building at 3:15 in the morning. If they ask, I’m visiting the famous Bebbisun Bakery. Bennison? BELLASAN. I’m visiting the Bellasan Bakery.

Actually, anyone getting into the elevator this early was probably also doing the walk of shame so it’s probably fi-KRIFFING SITH SPIT THAT’S

“Master Windu!” Anakin cleared his throat, trying to lower his voice an octave. “Good- Good Morning!”

Windu’s eyes widened almost imperceptibly. “Ah. Knight Skywalker. Good morning to you as well,” he replied, stepping in the elevator, doors closing behind.

The lift descended as Anakin’s heart rate skyrocketed. This was it. Windu had to be here for Anakin. What other possible explanation could there be? WHY WASN’T HE SAYING ANYTHING?

Wait.

What other possible explanation...could...why wasn’t he saying ANYTHING?

Anakin scrutinized Master Windu out of the corner of his eye. Were those...the same robes he was wearing yesterday? They looked like the same robes but then again...pretty much all robes looked the same so this was probably a stupid way to figure things out. Fuck, it was too early for this.

Unsurprisingly, he couldn’t get a sense of the Master’s surface emotions. But his underlying aura seemed...happy? Typically Windu's serene presence had a tinge of righteous fury (something that had frightened him back when he was a child). But now that ever present vaapad edge was... softened? Anakin wracked his tired brain for a more reasonable explanation than- than the obvious but obviously impossible. He had to projecting. Right? Then again...couplings weren’t forbidden (even if Anakin couldn’t quite understand how people enjoyed just- having sex without any attachment).

The corners of Anakin’s lips twitched. The Master of the Order. Getting laid. Master Windu. In the Senatorial apartments. Mace Windu. What level had he gotten on? Above aides...diplomats probably. Should he ask? Force, this was too good- he couldn’t not ask.

Windu stared at him cooly and the knight instantly sobered. What was he thinking? Windu was obviously trying to trick him! If he said anything, Windu would turn it against him! Well, he wouldn’t be fooled so easily. Anakin spent the next several levels of descent staring forward, determined not to be the one to break the silence.

He was so focused that he didn’t notice the lift slowing prematurely again until the doors opened; an elderly Rodian hobbled in. The two Jedi moved even further apart to allow the man some space. The lift closed and newcomer glanced at the humans curiously.

“Aren’t you Jedi? What are two Jedi doing here so early?”

“Bakery,” Mace and Anakin responded in unison, heads snapping to stare at the other in surprise.

The Rodian chuckled. “Oh, that Bellasan place, right?”

“Yes,” Windu replied smoothly. “They have a famously unique caf blend.”

“And you can’t get Sweesonberry rolls anywhere else,” Anakin added quickly, not letting the opportunity to firm up his cover go to waste.

“You mammals and your carbohydrates,” The elderly reptilian clucked, bemused.

Knight Skywalker and Master Windu exchanged wary looks. The door pinged open on level 4848.

“Enjoy!” the overly entertained Rodian called out as they stepped out from the closing doors.

Anakin cleared his throat. “After you, Master Windu,” he said politely. CHECKMATE FUCKER.

But Windu just nodded serenely, striding confidently ahead, past the checkpoints and into the attached upper-crust market. After a very short walk, Anakin found himself in line behind Mace Windu at a pastry shop in the basement of his wife’s apartment building.

Anakin blearily thought that sentence through again, then subtly pinched the inside of his arm.

Nope, he was awake.

Every second that passed Anakin had to fight the steadily increasing urge to blurt out something stupid, and possibly incriminating, if not both. Just say something bland! Nothing about why they’re both here so early. Nothing about coming here before. Something casual.

“Smells good,” Anakin said.

Nailed it!

“Indeed,” Mace replied.

I’m a genius! He actually thinks I’m here for the bakery! He’s never going to suspect a thing! He was probably here for some boring pre-dawn meeting, and now I’ve got the perfect excuse to come visit Padme whenever! I can probably start sneaking off more often, I’ve just got to remember to bring back a pasty or something. And he can’t even say shit about un-Jedi like consumption!

“Skywalker-”

Oh no. Please be about the bakery. Pleasebeaboutthe

“Believe me when I tell you that I’d rather not ask-”

Oh NO. THIS ISN’T GOING TO BE ABOUT THE BAKERY. I’M AN IDIOT.

“-But did you fly here in a temple speeder?”

Cold sweat started to trickle down Anakin’s back as they shuffled forward automatically in the surprisingly long queue. Guess that’s why Padme woke me up so early.

“Knight Skywalker? Did you hear me?”

“Yes, Master Windu, sorry- I was, uh, distracted by the specials board. I, um, have my own hoverbike. Built it myself. No temple resources involved.”

“Sounds...distinctive.” Windu’s tone seemed neutral, but the way he pinched the bridge of his nose was obviously irritated. They stepped forward again. Why are so many people at this bakery so early? Guess we’re far enough down that day/night cycles don’t matter so much. Oh kriff, he’s massaging his temples now. Why is he mad about the bike? Is he going to ask where I landed it? Fuck.

Anakin swallowed the lump in his throat. “I- I thought it would be better to take personal property. Since this isn’t exactly order business.”

“That’s very responsible of you. Such...separation of personal from professional is an important skill for a Jedi.”

The trickle of sweat down his spine increased. The Chosen One discretely wiped his sweaty palms on the inside of his sleeves and prayed that his outer robe was hiding any growing pit stains.

Are we...actually talking about this? Is he going to admit to having an affair? Is he going to tell me to keep this quiet? I CAN BARELY KEEP MY OWN RELATIONSHIP SECRET! Does he know about Padme? Does he know we’re married? Is this conversation still about the bakery visit? Is HE married?

“However...such a vehicle might not be the most discrete. And discretion is also an important skill.”

Is he giving me permission to use the temple landspeeders to visit padme? Is he telling me to take the bus? WAIT! IS THIS A METAPHOR? Is he telling me to come here less? Is this still about the bakery? Did I actually check that I wasn’t still asleep or did I just dream that I checked?

“Do you understand, Knight Skywalker”

“I- uhh. I mean- well, ummm- OH look, it’s your turn to order!”

Master Windu stepped up to the counter.

“Hello, again! Same as last time?”

OH FORCE GODS HE’S A REGULAR. THIS IS IT. I’M NEVER GOING TO GET TO SEE OBI-WAN OR ASHOKA AGAIN AND PADME’S CAREER IS GOING TO BE RUINED AND

“The same blend please, but please add on one of your Sweesonberry rolls- a friend recommended them.”

...Did Mace Windu just call me his friend?

“Excellent choice! Your friend has good taste!”

Mace Windu stepped to the side and Anakin Skywalker stepped up. “...I’ll have what he had.”

A minute or two later, they were walking back to the lift, matching disposamugs and flimsibags in hand.

To try and delay the inevitable, the pale and now very sweaty young Jedi took a sip of caf. He raised both brows involuntary. “This is...really good. Holy kriff. I don’t usually drink caf for the flavor but...wow.”

“Worth the trip?” Windu asked. Anakin choked a little but successfully managed to swallow. He took another sip to avoid answering.

Windu took a bite of his roll, making a small noise of appreciation, “The pastry is also excellent. I don’t have much of a sweet tooth but this is remarkably smooth...I can’t say I’ve ever had anything quite like it.”

“Floral, right?” Anakin said, grinning into his cup.

“Yes, that’s a good description.” Ha! I told Padme I was paying attention.

They drank companionably as the lift indicator dinged closer.

“Skywalker...you’re parked on 4970, right?”

The knight nodded, too afraid to speak. The force seemed to swirl at the precipice of something.

The Master sighed. “Look- I’ve got an unregistered van- this one time only, stow the speeder, and I’ll give you a ride back. If you’re visiting the bakery in the future- please take something with a closed cab. Last thing we need is the tabloids wondering where you’re going...”

Anakin nodded again, more eagerly again. He was practically being given permission to visit Padme! That was totally worth an excruciatingly awkward flight back to the temple! He just had to chew slowly so he couldn’t blurt out anything marriage related! He was a genius!

The lift opened.

“Jar-Jar!” Anakin said, surprised and pleased. “Wow, are you also here for the bakery? This place really is popular!”

“Ani! Little Ani! Wassa you doin here?” Jar-Jar looked around wildly, then stumbled out, foot catching at the gap. Windu darted forward and effortlessly saved the Gungan before he hit the floor, while Anakin stuck his arm forward to catch the closing door.

“Bakery, Jar Jar!” he said as he stepped inside. “I’d love to talk, but we’ve actually got to get back to the temple!”

Windu struggled to untangle himself from Jar-Jar, who was being particularly unhelpful about it, even for him. Wow he’s even clingier than usual this early in the morning. It’s nice how patient Master Windu is being; I feel like even Obi-Wan can be too hard on Jar-Jar sometimes.

“Actually Skywalker, why don’t you go on ahead and stow the bike- I just remembered I meant to pick something up for Council; I won’t take long.”

“Uh. Alright,” Anakin said, catching the keys. I guess I can’t really be late if I arrive with Master Windu.

“Ossa no!” Jar-Jar exclaimed sadly. “I was justa saying to Macey lassa night thatsa I missed talkin wit little Ani!”

Anakin smiled reassuringly as the lift began to close. “Don’t worry Jar-Jar! We’ll- catch uh-HOLD ON did you say LAST NIGHT?!”

Mace’s eyes closed in resignation as the door shut on the pair, Jar-Jar still tangled around the Jedi.

AND MACE WASN’T EVEN TRYING TO PUT HIM BACK UPRIGHT ANYMORE HOLY KRIFF JUST PUT THAT TOGETHER.

Anakin stared blankly at the metal walls as they rushed past. The lone Jedi Knight took a long sip of caff, then carefully placed the pastry bag and drink on the floor. He systematically wadded up the sleeve of his robe and shoved in his mouth. He then spent the next few minutes squealing with unholy glee while literally bouncing off the walls in a manner only accessible to a force sensitive in an elevator. He was still panting slightly when the lift opened on the primary parking level.

We can double date! Padme and I can host! I can help Mace and Jar-Jar plan their wedding! We can reform the order to allow for romantic love! I can be Jar-Jar’s best man! Padme and I can have another ceremony and Obi-Wan can give me away while Mace officiates and and then we’ll all have sweesonbury cake and Jar-Jar can help teach our kids how to swim!

With those dreamy thoughts running through his mind, it was child’s work to follow the the force to the unremarkable hovervan. He was humming to himself when Master Windu opened the door.

He beamed at the older Jedi. Windu scowled in reply. Anakin smiled wider, unintimidated. He genuinely liked the Gungan, but anyone who could spend hours with Jar-Jar had to have a soft side.

“You know, Jar-Jar is a long time friend of Senator-”

“No.” Windu cut the eager words brusquely.

Anakin shrank back, a little hurt.

(Maybe a lot hurt.)

Mace glanced over at the obviously crestfallen young General and sighed before amending his words.

“Not- Not right now, alright? Maybe if you’re miraculously more discrete about this than you are about your affection for Senator Amidala, then we can talk, understood?”

Anakin nodded with absolute determination, glimmering images of fairytale weddings visible once more. Distant, perhaps- but the chance was worth any amount of tongue biting. Now that there was a real, possible future where he could have it all, now that he knew Windu had a heart somewhere under his robes- he could be patient.

He could be very patient.

Anakin calmed his grin down to a smaller, more Jedi-like smile, taking a sip of the cool but still really good caf. He channeled Obi-Wan’s most neutral diplomatic grace.

“Thank you for the ride, Master Windu. I appreciate it.”

Windu gave him an approving glance. “You’re more than welcome, Knight Skywalker.”

Feeling bold, he continued on with his best non-mocking impression of Obi-Wan.

"Have you had a chance to read the latest report on helmet redesigns? I think they might really improve peripheral vision without compromising concussive resistance.”

Mace hummed thoughtfully. “I have. I’m somewhat concerned about deploying such a radical change mid-campaign. Even better gear requires an adjustment period, and I’d rather minimize needless deaths while the troops readjust to hud flow.”

“Yes, that’s a reasonable concern, I was talking to Captain Rex-”

They spent the remainder of the flight chatting comfortably about troop safety and absentmindedly eating (or possibly stress eating in response to the prolonged absence of interpersonal conflict) the box of pastries Mace had picked up. When they arrived at the temple, they divvied up the remainder between them, quietly agreeing that there weren’t enough to share anyway.

They continued their conversation, Master Windu accompanying him to the orbital loading bay.

Obi-Wan rushed over in alarm at the sight of them approaching. “Anakin, there you are- I was starting to wonder if you’d make it. Terribly sorry Master Windu- I hope he wasn’t too much of a bother-”

“He’s not your padawan anymore, you don’t have to apologize for him. Though I do appreciate the reflex.”

“I suppose the concern isn’t completely baseless.” Anakin said, tone deliberately mildly. Mace chuckled slightly and Obi-Wan took a step back, slightly frightened by the sudden camaraderie. Anakin pretended to take a sip from his now empty disposamug to avoid fist pumping the air or cheering.

“I- Yes well- the important thing is you’re here in time for departure. What- what is that in the bag.”

Moment of Truth. Don’t freak out. Focus. Prove you can be discrete, THEN double dates, THEN Jedi Wedding Ceremony.

“Sweesonbury Roll,” Anakin answered placidly. He pretended to take another sip of caf. “Master Windu was kind enough to give me a ride from the bakery.”

“That’s- I’m sorry, what?” Anakin bit the inside of cheek to keep himself from reacting to Obi-Wan’s palpable bewilderment.

“I had to double back and get more, but we came straight here after,” Mace added helpfully, with zero hint of intentional mischief. “Oh and Skywalker- you can call me Mace if we’re not discussing temple business.”

Anakin SCREAMED (internally, of course). Outwardly, he simply bowed politely. “And you’re welcome to call me Anakin, of course.”

He deliberately avoided looking directly at Obi-Wan, his former Master’s bug-eyed reaction already pushing him to the edge, even just visible as it was out of the corner of his eye.

Windu nodded in return. “Safe travels you two. May the force with you.”

“And with you.” Anakin replied.

“May the force be with you,” Obi-Wan rushed to say, after a short delay.

Master Windu turned and exited the cargo bay doors. Anakin threw out the mug in a nearby bin, pulling out a roll and biting into it before turning to face Obi-Wan. They made eye-contact, each waiting for the other to break first. Usually that would be Anakin, but he had goals now. The Knight chewed. His Master’s eyes narrowed. The older man (who may have aged significantly in the last 5 minutes) finally broke.

“Who are you?”

Anakin just sighed, maintaining the Kenobi impression. “Come on Master, we don’t want to keep the troops waiting.” With that, he walked forward, hiding his smile as Obi-Wan followed closely at his heels.

“Since when does my apprentice visit bakeries with Mace Windu?” Obi-Wan asked, almost desperately.

“You’re making it sound like a bigger deal than it is.”

Master Kenobi sputtered as the pair opened the airlock for the short-range shuttle.

Anakin mustered up an earnest smile. “Master? Would you mind flying- I’m still eating and-”

Obi-Wan made an incoherent noise of horrified outrage before fumbling for his communicator.

“What are you doing?”

“NOTHING IS MAKING SENSE RIGHT NOW. EITHER YOU AND MACE NEED TO GO TO THE HEALING HALLS OR I DO!”

Anakin burst out laughing. “Relax Obi-Wan, I’m messing with you, holy shit. Obviously I’m flying.”

Obi-Wan slumped into the co-pilot seat, rubbing at his eyes. “Don’t do that Anakin! My nerves are stretched thin enough by the war as it is-”

“Sorry, Sorry!”

They strapped in and took off, Anakin still chuckling occasionally, Obi-Wan scowling in irritation each time.

They ascended above the towering skyline alongside the first rays of sunlight.

“So you didn’t go to a bakery with Master Windu this morning?”

“Uhh-”

#star wars #my au #macenjar au #star wars au no 20 #crack treated seriously #mace windu #macenjar #ok i KNOW this is crack but i actually worked really hard on it and im very proud #so i would appreciate if you gave it a chance before forming judgements #NOTHING GRAPHIC OH MY GOD #star wars au #crack #crackship #anakin and padme wake up in bed together and have a married couple anidala conversation and then its PG after that i SWEAR #G RATED EVEN #Mace Windu and Anakin Skywalker #becoming friends is my comfort trope ok

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