#they were so horrible and unreasonable last time

[clementimetodie]

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[emometalhead]

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[shu-porang-porang]

Love Me Until I Love Myself

♡♡♡ Minho wants to make sure you know he loves you ♡♡♡

Pairs: Lee Minho (Lee Know) / fem!reader

Rating: Explicit

Theme: Angst, Fluff, Smut, 18+ NO MINORS.

Warnings: oral (female receiving), fingering, nipple play, unprotected sex (do not try at home!), reader is insecure and doesn't like herself

Word count: 3 k

You and your boyfriend are on the ride back home from an awards show after party. It was exhausting. You used to think they must be fun, getting to chat and party with celebrities, but nope. You’re not built for this. You wonder how he could do it, especially after performing those taxing choreos. You could never. All night he was so bubbly and cheerful, while you tried to hide in shadows and attract as little attention as possible. Well, it’s not like people cared about you anyway, you were an outsider, a peasant who was offered a chance at a royal ball.

Halfway through it you questioned why you even accepted to participate, and then right away, you remembered why. Another girl approached him, congratulating him on their win and talking about memories you weren’t a part of, laughing at inside jokes you couldn’t understand. Of course, he would be comfortable with these girls, they’re coworkers after all! He’s known some of them for ages, way before you guys met, and of course you had no right to tell him to stay away from them or anything. The best you could do was to stick around, so the girls were aware of you as his girlfriend, or he knew you were there, lest he decided to do something naughty with one of them...

You know you’re being unreasonable; you know he’s loyal, and they’re just friends, some of them are even like his little sisters, but you can’t get these thoughts out of your head. Your insecurities won’t let you. After all, those girls are famous idols, loved by millions, always so dolled up and pretty, acting cute and shit. You think it’s just a matter of time before Minho realizes the timid plain you ain’t good enough for a star like him. Although he always fondly smiles at your dorky made up dance moves, you think some performer who could actually dance and shared his passion for dancing would be more appealing to him. You feel you lack a lot, and you can’t justify why someone like him would be interested in someone like you.

You feel pathetic. You let out a sigh subconsciously and Minho gently puts a hand on your thigh, asking if you’re ok. You reply with a nod and a weak smile. You’re afraid if you try to talk, tears may spill. His hand remains on your thigh, so you hold it to calm yourself down. His soft hand that you love so much. You love everything about him, you’re crazy about him. You wish you didn’t love him so much, then he couldn’t one day break your heart. You wish you were another person, well, you wished that almost your entire life until you met him. Having him, convinced you that you were alright, the person who you were and hated for so long, was the same person who got you to him, so it was alright. But here you are again, doubting yourself. You think you’re just broken and can never be fully fixed. So maybe it wouldn’t be fair to expect him to stick with you…

You arrive at Minho’s place. You moved in with him a few months back, so it’s technically your place too, but you don’t dare to indulge yourself in that idea, you think you don’t deserve it, you’ll lose it soon, so better to not get attached, but it’s already too late.

Home, at last. As soon as you enter, you are greeted by the cats. Minho picks one up cooing at it. You walk past by him into the bedroom. You just wanna rid yourself of the party attire and go to sleep, right now the only thing that could stop your train of horrible thoughts is sleep.

Minho joins you soon after, walks towards you and wraps his arms around you from behind as you’re taking your jewelry off in front of the mirror. He nuzzles his nose against your neck, inhaling your scent.

“Hey let go, I’m tired. Just wanna get out of this dress and go to bed.”

“But I want you to stay in this dress a bit longer. You looked so pretty tonight, babe” he leaves kisses on your exposed shoulder that make your breath hitch in your throat. But you’re still upset about the bleak night you had.

“Oh, is that why you spent the whole time talking to other girls while I was sitting right there?” Your bottled up emotions force you to blurt out.

He lifts his head up, looking you in the eyes through the mirror. His expression is baffled, he’s trying to figure out what he did wrong.

“What are you talking about? I thought we had a nice time there!”

“Well, you obviously had, giggling with them all night.”

You try to break free from his arms but he won’t budge.

“Hey! You’re not going anywhere until you tell me what’s exactly wrong.”

You try to form sentences that would explain why you’re feeling like this, but you feel stupid for bringing it up in the first place. You break into tears as you’re tired and helpless and don’t even know how to make sense of your feelings. Silent tears start streaming down your cheeks, you’re never one to sob loudly. Worries written all over his face.

“Baby tell me. What did I do? Did someone say something to you?”

You shake your head “no”. He lifts you up and carries you to bed, sitting you on his lap. You show no resistance, your hands are balled up on your lap and your head is down, trying to cover your crying face with the lose strands of your hair, which he tucks behind your ear immediately. His thumb is caressing your tear-stricken cheek. His other hand is soothingly massaging your thigh.

“It’s okay baby, you can talk to me. Please. It really hurts me to see you like this and not be able to do anything about it. Tell me what’s wrong sweetie. We’re gonna fix it together.”

You don’t wanna hurt him. Hurting him is the last thing you would do. So, you try to fight the tears and speak.

“I… seeing you tonight… the girls all pretty and talented… the things you have in common… how close you are… I wonder… how long… till you realize……….”

“Till I realize what baby?”

“I’m not… good enough” your voice is shaky, again on the verge of tears.

He’s in disbelief. His mouth slightly agape in shock. His grip on your waist tightens.

“Why would you even think that?” he says as if asking himself, not really waiting for a response from you.

His brows are furrowed. He’s thinking to himself.

“I get it now. You were sitting right there, and I kept talking to other people as if you weren’t. But I just thought you weren’t taking part in conversations coz you didn’t want to be bothered… but you actually felt excluded from them. Is that right?”

“Almost. That alone wasn’t a problem, but it made me think you deserve to be with someone who’s more like them and less like me…”

“Woah! Where did you get that from?”

“You’re too good for me… it can’t be right. I’m afraid you’re wasting your time with me…”

“Hey! You don’t get to decide that for me! Do you think I couldn’t have any of those girls if I wanted? The thing is, I don’t want them, I want you.”

“Why do you even love me? Even I can’t love myself…”

“Where should I begin? I love everything about you, and I make that my first priority from now on, to make you see all the things I love in you, and to make you love them too.” He finishes his sentence with a soft kiss on your collarbone.

He plants a few more kisses on the expanse of your chest before pulling back and looking into your glossy eyes. You give him a thankful smile as your hands reach for his nape and pull him in for a kiss. His lips feel like heaven against yours, soft and plump. The kiss starts with languid movements of your mouths. Neither of you are in a hurry, you both need to savor this moment. He drags his tongue on your bottom lip and you let it in. As your tongues are dancing, the temperature rises. His hand that was on your waist, travels up to grope at your clothed breast, the other hand is tangled in your hair, keeping your head in place for him to abuse your lips.

He lays you on your back on the bed, momentarily disconnecting your lips which makes you whimper in loss. It encourages him to get back to kissing with even more fervor. His hands are pulling the straps of your dress down, trying to gain access to your breasts. He trails kisses down your jaw and across the column of your neck, to your shoulders and collarbone. They alternate between feather like pecks to purplish hickeys. He can’t decide what he wants. He wants it all, he wants all of you, he can’t get enough.

He stops to admire his work of art. A hand cups your cheek gently which you lean into, closing your eyes.

“You’re so perfect baby,” He plants a kiss to your forehead. “Even in my wildest imaginations I couldn’t picture someone this pretty,” Another kiss to your nose. “Inside and out.”

You open your eyes to see his lovingly stare back. You pull him in for another taste of his lips.

“So, do you still wanna get rid of this dress?”

“I do, if you want to.”

“As gorgeous as you look, I can’t wait to see what’s underneath.”

He takes it off and your left in nothing but your black lace panties. You tug at his dress shirt, signaling him to take it off too, which he complies, followed by the unbuckling of his belt and his pants follow suit.

“You’re the best thing that’s ever happened to me, I want you to never forget that.” He says as he hovers over you once again. You open your arms to invite him into your hug. He lowers his body onto yours, slightly circling his hips against your crotch. You feel him twitch in his boxers.

“We don’t have to do it if you’re not in the mood, you know.” He says searching your eyes.

“I want it baby, I need you, I really do.” You say as your hands are mapping his toned chest.

With a little smirk on his lips, he goes back to business. He kisses your chest, right above your racing heart, then latches his mouth to your left nipple. He sucks and bites at it till its raw, while trying to give the same amount of attention to the right one between his fingers. You squirm beneath him as your nipples get too sensitive and can’t handle more. He gets the cue and snaps out of his uncontrollable desire to ruin them. Instead, he gives them both kitten licks and pecks in turn, to compensate for the rough treatment they just received.

Moving down your naval, he’s all soft and sweet with butterfly kisses, loving pecks and whispering sweet nothings in between. He’s slotted between your thighs as he reaches your core. Eyes darting up to ask for your permission one last time before he’s completely unstoppable. You give him a nod and he places a kiss to your clothed mound. He teases by nudging his nose to your clit and licking a stripe from your hole to it. Tasting the arousal leaking through the fabric, he lets out a satisfied hum that sends shivers up your spine. You’re growing impatient but he’s taking his sweet time with peppering your inner thighs with kisses and hickeys. You feel more of your juices flowing out and you buck your hips up.

“Stay still princess. Let me take care of you, hm?”

“Minho… please…” You whine. You trust him that he’ll take good care of you, but you can’t wait anymore.

He finally gets rid of your panties and the cool air hits your pussy, followed by warm puffs of his breath.

“So pretty… all mine” He says before diving down and starting to make out with your pussy lips. The lewd noises that fill the room make you forget why you were even upset earlier. The only thing you don’t like about this moment is how little pressure he’s putting on your clit, enough to keep your juices flowing, but not enough to make them gush out all at once. You’re a moaning mess, your fingers pulling at his roots, trying to keep his face close to your core. He’s finally sucking at your clit, suddenly the pleasure gets overwhelming as he inserts two fingers inside you. You feel the knot in your stomach tightening to a snap. A few more strokes of his tongue and your coming undone. Your thighs shake around his head, one of his hands comes up to fondle your breast, his mouth still attached to your core, drinking the elixir of life straight from the fountain. He waits for you to ride your orgasm before he crawls back on top and gives you a taste of yourself. His mouth and chin are glistening with your juices. What a sight to see! You feel extremely lucky to be the one who caused this scene.

“That was …amazing… Thank you” you say while trying to find the normal rhythm of your breath.

“I told you I know how to take care of my girl.”

“Now it’s your turn.” You push him on his back and now you’re on top.

First thing you do is taking his boxers off and finally freeing his aching cock. You wonder how he managed to focus on pleasuring you while he was this hard. The sight alone makes you all turned on again. You thought you’d need more time to build a second orgasm, but you’re already throbbing.

Now it’s your turn to mark him, to shower him with kisses, to try and pour as much love as possible onto your every touch. Starting from the sensitive spot on his neck, you know you can’t mark him here, still you suck it a bit harsher than you should. You leave open-mouthed kisses all over his chest and where it is safe, give him a few hickeys too. You lovingly kiss the scar on his abdomen, the fact that it’s another thing that only a few have seen and you’re one of those few, is really endearing to you.

His member is twitching between your bodies. You slide your wet pussy on it, earning a groan from him. You decide he deserves a quicker release, so you stop grinding to hold it and align it with your entrance but he stops you.

“Wait baby. Let me do it.” He says as he’s stopping your hips from moving.

You’re confused but you go with it. He gets on top again.

“Tonight is about showing my baby how much I love her.” He says with a fond smile.

“I wanna make sure everything feels good for you.” He puts a pillow under your hips to gain a better angle. He inserts the two fingers from before in your pussy, checking how wet you are and scissoring them to loosen the muscles.

“Minnie I’m fine… it’s not my first time…” you try to say in between gasps as his fingers alone are doing wonders inside of you.

“Oh but it is sweetheart. I’m gonna love you all over again.” He inserts a third finger.

“Gonna make sure to give you all the love you deserve.”

He clashes his lips to yours as he replaces his fingers with the tip of his cock. The stretch is pleasant, you want more of it. You moan in his mouth as he slowly inches inside you until he finally bottoms out. He stays still, your warmth engulfing him, turns his brains to mush.

He whispers in your ear: “I love you so much”

He starts moving as he nibs at your earlobe, giving you words of praise now and then. Your arms wrap impossibly tight around his shoulders, leaving no space between your chests.

He slowly picks up his pace. Your nails are digging to his biceps now. Beautiful moans fill the room. His lips won’t leave your skin for more than 3 seconds. He pats down your left arm till he reaches your hand and your fingers intertwine as if they have brains of their own. He pins it above your head and his other hand is beside your head, supporting his weight as his movements get faster and less precise.

“ ’m close…” you manage to let out.

“Go ahead… I’m right… behind you”

A few more thrusts and you’re second orgasm hits you as your head falls back and your eyes screw shut, his name like a prayer on your lips. You’ve made a habit out of saying his name every time you came or it wouldn’t feel right.

As your walls convulse around him, he can’t hold it back anymore. Ropes of white hot liquid paint your walls. He collapses on top of you. He tries to pull out but you stop him.

“Wanna stay connected to you a bit more…” You wish you could merge with him into one person, but having him inside a bit longer, would do too.

His head finds its place in the crook of your neck. One of your hands is in his hair and the other is resting on his back. You whisper a “I love you” to his hair and kiss the top of his head and he lets out a sigh. You don’t want this moment to end. If he can love you this much, maybe you should give it a try too.

[sitaraa--writes]

Hey 😊 would you do a Damon Salvatore imagine where you’re dating but then you leave the house after a fight with him and get in a bad car crash. He feels this and searches for you, just to find you I’m time to save your life. Then he stays by your side, feeling guilty and when you wake up again he’s there taking care of you, apologizes and promises to never let any harm happen to you again? Just some lovely fluff and a bit angsty. Thank you so much 😊

Apology

Summary: Your boyfriend Damon has been acting very possessive and controlling and you get into a huge fight with him. You go out for a drive to clear your head but end up in an accident instead. Damon finds you and takes you home, making up for everything he had done.

ANGST, fluff

Damon being controlling, car crash, reader having a near-death experience

1.5K

A/N: Thank you @imagine-all-the-fandoms for being my first request! I'm so sorry it took forever (this is horrible). Do let me know if this is satisfactory. Happy reading!

Damon Salvatore X Human!Fem!Reader

Dividers by @saradika-graphics

Your boyfriend of two years, Damon, was recently being very controlling and possessive. He started making your decisions for you without bothering to consult you, being unreasonably jealous of any male around you and demanding to be with you at all times, not understanding the healthy concept of giving 'space'.

But this time, it ran deep. He compelled your childhood best friend, Jake, to leave town and forget all about you. You caught him in nick of time otherwise you would've never even known about what happened to him!

Deeply hurt and driven mad with rage, you left the Boarding House for a drive after a few broken objects, wounding words and a heavy heart.

You didn't know how, perhaps you weren't in your right senses, you couldn't hit the brakes and crashed right into a tree. The car flipped over, and your arms twisted at an odd angle. Your limp and now-sore body was fastened with the seat belt, and you couldn't undo it. You were hit badly in the back of your head, and you could feel unbearable burn of a deep gash.

Your senses had perked up under the stillness of the night, and you heard a faint trickle. Then wetness across your back, your head, soon trickling down to your neck. It was a strange fluid --- coppery metallic smell, thick and red with a mud-brownish tinge. It was oddly enticing and familiar. A shiver ran down your spine when you realised it was your blood. Blood, so much blood --- your own. You were losing so much blood, and you could do nothing to stop it. You felt faint and suddenly, the hardest thing in the world was staying conscious.

You were terrified. If you were going to die, then it mustn't be like this. An accident. Your whole life snatched away just because of a mistake. God, you had so many things to do in life. Get a job, travel the world, adopt a cat --- ordinary things but they were your dreams, which now lay shattered. You didn't want your life --- and death --- so unremarkable and ordinary. And while all this time, there was a deep wound of regret in your heart --- perhaps greater than the gash on your head --- to part with Damon.

Sure, he could be such an asshole at times, but you knew that he loves you with all his heart. You didn't want your last words to him be an angry "I hate you". You had never really thought about it, what would be your last words to him. You couldn't breathe at the sheer grief that hit you at the moment. Unable to withstand the blow, you closed your eyes, succumbing to a world of endless darkness, getting lost in your way towards the blue-eyed vampire. And you couldn't do a damn thing about it...

Anger and frustration clouded Damon's mind. It was all hazy, and he was searching for a light. Ah, there it is! Remorse, regret, fear of having losing her. He knew what he did was wrong, but why couldn't she understand? He loved her so damn much, everything he did was tp protect her.

She lived her constant danger because he loved her, and he knew at times that he should let her go, but he couldn't. He needed her to function, she was his damn sanity, and without her, he lost it.

Suddenly, there was this intense urge to go find her, not to waste a single moment. He'll do anything to have her back, she can't leave him. He knew he was unreasonable, ill-tempered and sometimes too controlling, but he couldn't help himself.

He got behind the steering wheel and let his heart lead the way, for it was with her where it truly lay.

He was aghast, devastated, even. Finding her like this, so near to death, he suddenly came to his senses. He was crying, he realised. He never cried. But that's what she does to him --- make him into someone he never thought he could be.

"Y/N, no! No, no, no!" he wailed, feeling utterly helpless. He undid your seatbelt and somehow pulled you out of the overturned car. Without wasting a moment, he bit into his wrist and forced his blood into your mouth.

You drank for a moment then turned away, trying to sit up but immediately fell back and the sheer exhaustion and soreness you felt.

He was here. He was here, you realised.

"Oh Damon, I'm so sorry!" you sobbed into his chest. He wrapped his arms tightly around you and you knew he was crying into your shoulder.

You simply let things just be. In that dark night, the feeling of death heavy around you, the two of you embraced a new life. Of promises of forever, of understanding, of accepting --- and it was beautiful.

After what seemed like an eternity, he composed himself, giving you some strength, too. "Let's get you home, yeah?" he whispered and you nodded. He lifted you bridal style in his arms and helped you into his car. You leaned on him, as much as you could and he kissed the top of your head. "I'm so, so sorry..." he began but your shook your head. He understood. Not now.

You drove to the Boarding House in companionable silence. The silence was golden. The silence spoke it all. And all you needed was the silence.

With his help you went inside. The house that was so familiar --- it looked the same --- but it promised something different.

"You don't know how scared I was today," he whispered as he rubbed your feet.

"Me too... I didn't want to die like that. Not without saying goodbye, though I wonder if I ever will be able to say it-" he silenced you with a kiss. "I won't let anything happen to you. I want you all for myself, I know that's selfish. I am prick and I don't deserve you, but I do love you very much, so much that it's frustrating, and I won't be able to live with myself if something happens to you. I know I make bad decisions, I know I react impulsively, but I do it only for you. I am sorry for today. I had no reason to compel Jake, but I did it anyway because I was insecure. I realised my mistake, I have no reason to be. So, if you have it in you, please forgive me...". Tears were streaming down his face.

You wiped them away and hugged him close.

"I'm hungry," you said, trying to lighten up the atmosphere. It made him laugh. "Pasta?"

"Yes!"

[wildernessuntothemselves]

Heaven is not fit to house a love (like you and I) | Last Part

Word Count: 13.8k

Genre: smut, angst, fluff

Summary: When you first met your boyfriend, it was love at first sight. No, more than that. It was love before you even met. It felt like you had known each other in another life and were meant to find each other again. 

But that's not actually true, is it? You and Beomgyu don't actually know each other from another life, and the dreams you've been having aren't memories of your past life either. That's ridiculous. 

But then why does Beomgyu get so defensive about them? And why does each dream feel more real than the one before? 

A/N: this is the sequel to my series YAMQN but I'm trying to write it in a way that it would be comprehensible to people who have never read YAMQN. The parts in italic are the dreams. 

Warnings: fem!reader, sub!gyu, dom!reader, dom!gyu, sub!reader, fingering, handjobs, missionary, doggy, mentions of previous noncon, yandere behaviour, violence, bodily harm, alienation

You still have the dreams, the memories, the torment. They never went away despite you trying your goddamn hardest. Your brain seems to conjure them up harder and more vividly the more you work to push them away. You don't know if Beomgyu knows this but he's beside you every possible second of every day, keeping you busy and helping to push it all away, or at least distract you from it. 

You've quit your job. Beomgyu isn't unreasonable. He will help you get another job, just as soon as you feel better. But not right now. You're not ready yet. You need rest and he makes sure you get it, devoting every second he's not at his job or getting you food and stuff you need to taking care of you.

He wanted you to move away, just pack your things and get away from this place that had brought you both such grief, but you couldn't go through with it. Not yet. You had freaked out when he suggested it, telling you it would do you good to get a fresh start and get away from Taehyun but you know he wouldn't be the only one you'd be getting away from. All your friends are here. Your family is here. And even though you're hardly seeing them right now, you know it wouldn't be right to completely uproot yourself from everything you've ever known except Beomgyu. Even though you'd promised to completely and fully devote yourself to only him, you know it can't be good for your already unstable mental state.

You tell him that you'd feel so terribly alone if you move away, especially when he goes to work. So he offers to quit his job to spend all his time with you, explaining that he has put aside some savings he could use for the time being but you still refuse. You tell him that you'd be horribly selfish to let him waste the little precious money he saved up just so he can babysit you but you don’t tell him about how much it scares you to cross that last boundary, to let him completely and utterly devour your entire life despite something at the bottom of your soul telling you to just give it to him.   

Beomgyu reassures you that he doesn’t mind. He wants to spend his money to make sure you're taken care of, but you still refuse. You stand your ground and hold onto the last shred of your life that is not his–for what? You don’t know–and he reluctantly lets it go, for now at least. 

Instead, he uses the time he does have with you to pamper you, feeding you breakfast in bed, getting you things to occupy your time while he's away, drawing baths for you when he gets home from work. It all feels so terribly familiar. The sense of deja vu choking you but Beomgyu is determined to mentally and physically push it all out of your mind and take its place instead. 

He only reads you happy poems and stories, only sings you cheerful love songs. You feel like he’s lulling you into a deep slumber. You're still where you've always been–your friends and family are still within reach, your old life is there to reclaim if you want to–but it's like he'd succeeded in putting a wall between you and the world just like he wanted, and it scares you that you can't tell if that is a good or bad thing. Maybe you should just give into him, fall into him and dissolve into his being until no one will ever be able to pull you apart again. 

You feel his fingers knead the skin of your shoulders as he sits behind you in the bathtub–once again using his free time after work to take care of you instead of giving himself a break after working hard all day. Bubbles and candles surround you, the calming scent of them permeating your brain like a drug, aided by the glass of wine in your hand, to lull you further into your slumber. You let out small hums of appreciation under Beomgyu's expert hands that seem to know you better than you know yourself. How does he know where exactly to touch to unwind a particular knot in your back or relieve a certain stress that has been nagging you for a while? All you have to do is sit there and sip your wine, letting the groggy feeling from the liquid combine with the blissful pleasure of Beomgyu's touch to submerge you deeper into a dreamy state that one day you may never wake up from. 

“There is this beach I was reading about online that I'd like to visit.” You tell him lazily and he chirps happily. He always gets so excited when you initiate any outings or dates to go on and it makes that familiar tender spot in your heart ache at how selfish you’re being. He tries so hard to make you happy and fill your life up with fun and exciting things to do to distract you from the loneliness, and yet you so rarely respond in kind. “Sure. Anything you want, my love.” 

You smile, hearing the relief in his voice, and you go on, a little more excitedly. “It's near that old medieval castle at the cliff top. It's very popular.” 

“Oh, that place.” His hands falter and you can feel a sudden strange chill in the air. “It's just an overrated touristy spot. I know plenty of other beaches that are better.”

You pout. You didn't expect his response. He is usually happy to do whatever you want and you had actually been looking forward to going to that particular beach for a while. “But I want to go there. The beach looks really nice and I thought I could even go explore that old abandoned castle with my prince.” You giggle, trying to crane your head back to send him a flirty look but the expression you find on his face wipes all hints of playfulness off yours.

“And I don't want to. Pick literally anywhere else.” His response is strangely irritated and you frown. You should probably drop it. He is right. There are plenty of nice beaches around. You don't have to go to that particular one. But something about his sharp refusal prompts you to dig more. Stupid girl. Don’t you know that curiosity killed the cat? 

“Why do I need to when we can just go there?” You huff, tension creeping back into your shoulders. 

“I said no.” He rebuts with no explanation and your fiery temper sparks through the heavy fog that has been weighing on your brain. 

“Oh, you said no? Well then if Master says no then I guess that's the end of it.” You snap, your anger begging for you to let it catch fire.  

“Why are you being difficult? I thought you said you'd listen to me?” 

And just like it, he snuffs it all under his finger. You immediately shut down. How long is he going to hold that over your head? You've quit your job. You haven't spoken to Taehyun since then. You hardly see your friends. You stay home waiting for him like a dutiful little housewife. What more does he want from you? You know you've made a mistake. You know you promised to make it up to him and regain his trust, but surely asking to visit a stupid beach doesn't count as a potential breach of trust, does it? 

“Forget it.” You mumble, deflated. You were really looking forward to going there. The place looked super pretty online. It was one of the few places lately that have managed to get you excited at the prospect of visiting them. It held a certain vibrant draw to it when everything else seemed gray and dull in comparison. But you guess you can’t have even that.

You try to get out of the bath, no longer in the mood for intimate messages, but Beomgyu holds you back. Of course, he does. 

“Wait.” You hear Beomgyu sigh and let his hands drop to the water to circle around your waist and pull your body back against him, his lips kissing the junction between your neck and shoulder gently, apologetically. “I'm sorry, baby. I just have a bad feeling about that place. Can't you trust me on that?”

A bad feeling about the place? What the fuck does that mean? It’s just a beach, what could possibly go wrong there? 

Still, you hesitate. You didn’t think that anything could go wrong by being friends with Taehyun either and that Beomgyu was being overly jealous and paranoid but here you are. Maybe if you go there you'll fucking drown or something crazy like that.

You suppose you can give him that. You know if you had a bad feeling about a place, Beomgyu would not force you to go there. It probably wouldn’t be fun anyway if you make him go and he hates every second of it. You want to do something you both enjoy. 

But you really wanted to visit that place. Maybe you should go when he's at work… 

No. Just the idea of going out in public alone without Beomgyu makes you shudder. You can't handle being around people without Beomgyu's comforting presence to rely on. He's got you right where he wants you.

“Fine.” You say in a small voice, finally relenting. 

“Thank you, princess.” He sighs in relief and the tension in the air begins to dissipate once again. “I know you’re bored. I promise to take some time off work and take you on a nice vacation somewhere. How does that sound?”

“Okay.” You mumble unenthusiastically. 

“Come on. Cheer up.” He holds your jaw gently and turns you towards him, his lips meeting yours in a kiss that slowly turns sensual. 

“Beomgyu…” You whine into his mouth, the water shifting as you rub your thighs together. He will never not have an effect on you. You’re too weak for him. 

“I know, princess.” His hand drops between your legs, loosening you up. “I got you.”

His light touches are as strong as electric currents coursing through your veins, and before long, you find yourself squirming in his hold, pushing yourself closer to his touch while paradoxically trying to get away from the intense feeling at the same time. 

But he doesn’t let you. He throws his other arm over you, caging you into place as he takes a hold of your breasts, kneading them until your nipples have pebbled in need. 

“Baby…” You keen, pushing your breasts further into his hand, and crying out as he pulls one of your perked nipples between his thumb and forefinger. 

“Relax for me, baby.” He hums, holding you in place as he works his fingers inside you. It stings a bit as the water dilutes your arousal but he throws your legs on either edge of the tub to give him more space for his fingers to easily breach your hole, the heel of his palm working in tandem to bring you to the edge so scarily fast that you barely even register the sharp bite of his teeth on your neck as he zealously marks you. “Let me take care of you.” 

It’s a spell–a bid to get you to let go, and it’s so hard to not give in when he makes it feel so damn good. 

You're so exposed like this. Even though there is no one here to see you but Beomgyu, it feels like the whole universe is watching him spread you open to his satisfaction and no amount of faux demurity would fool the universe into believing you're not a willing participant in all of this. It's hard to care about your debauched display when your orgasm was heating you up from the inside so much you feel like you might spontaneously combust. Why is it always so intense with him? How does he do it so well? 

You may never know but what you do know is that your orgasm was rolling towards you like the water rolling over the edge of the tub, sharp and sudden, and when it reaches you it threatens to take you under. But Beomgyu holds your head above the water as his relentless fingers continue to fuck you until you yield to his will. You break apart under his touch, forgetting about everything except him in those few moments, forgetting about the beach, the castle, Taehyun and everything you've lost–the only thing registering in your mind is Beomgyu's touch, Beomgyu's smell, Beomgyu's warmth.  

“Beomgyu, Beomgyu, Beomgyu!” You cry as your whole body convulses in his arms, yet it doesn't slip from his hold for even a second, and when you finally come down from your quaking orgasm, you're still in his hold but half of the bath water had spilled over the edge, exposing your skin to the chilly room air–a stark contrast to the searing heat of Beomgyu’s hard cock pressing against you lower back as he tries to subtly jerk himself off against you, and it's your turn to hold him in the palm of your hand.

His quiet desperation brings even more memories to mind, memories of prince Beomgyu needily humping you in frantic attempt to get off, secret exclamations of desire and forbidden love whispered hotly on the skin of your neck or ears or breasts as he mounts you like a dog in heat in a way that he makes sure to tell you is not befitting the image of a prince like him. 

But when you turn around, it's your Beomgyu you see there, a regular college student on the surface, though nothing about him is regular. Is he really even your Beomgyu? The image of him in front of you shimmering and wavering between the Beomgyu you know and prince Beomgyu, and you're not sure which one is real anymore.

“You’re perfect.” He tries to reach out to you but you put his hands on either edge of the bathtub. “Keep those there.”

“Baby–” He starts to whine but shuts up when you grab his submerged cock and start jerking him off roughly. More water splashes out of the tub but neither of you care. He'll clean it up after anyway and you don’t even feel guilty about it. 

“Please, please.” He cries pathetically as if you're the one in control.

“Please what?” You ask curiously as if you're expecting him to suddenly reveal something that would make sense of the tangled mess you've made of him in your mind. 

“Anything.” 

You snort. “God, if someone is to see you like this they'd think I never touch you. You've been cumming every day, in my hand, my mouth, my ass, my cunt, on my face, my tits, my back…”

“It's not enough.” He shakes his head, looking delirious. “Never enough.”

“Well if it's not enough then what's the point of me doing this?” You taunt, going to pull your hand away from him but his own hands quickly fly out to grab yours and put it back on his cock as his whole body springs forward to get close to you as if he could glue his body to yours so you can't escape. “No! Please!”

“Get your hands off me.” You growl and he quickly puts his hands back on the tub's edge, trying to appease you so you wouldn’t deny him, but it’s not enough. He has to feel as helpless as he makes you feel and so you push him away roughly, his head almost hitting the ceramic as his back meets the wall of the tub. 

“You can't keep your hands to yourself, huh?” You purr, raising your free hand to his chest to play with his nipples, making his back arch and his fingers turn as white as the ceramic they're gripping onto while your other hand twists over his cock. 

“Sorry.”

God, you hate hearing that false word fall out of his mouth. You're pretty sure Beomgyu has never been sorry for anything in his life. 

“Are you?” You challenge, squeezing your hand around the head of his cock tightly. “Are you really sorry?” 

“Princess?” He cocks his head to the side innocently, as if he has no idea what you’re talking about. God, how he drives you crazy. “Please, I’ve been good.” 

Has he? You can’t tell anymore. He's poisoned your mind so much you can't think straight. 

You sigh, jerking him off fast, hard, knowing that the only thing that can soothe your troubled mind right now is watching your tormenter–your everything–fall apart in your grip just like he had done to you over and over again. And he doesn't disappoint. 

“Fuck! Oh, gods, I'm so close.” 

“Gods?” You laugh. That’s new. “I'm your only god, baby.”

“Yeah… only you.” He easily agrees with whatever you say, no thoughts behind his big adoring eyes, his body lying limp in the bathtub, only his hips moving to meet your fist everytime it goes down to smack against his pelvis. “Wanna cum for you. Worked so hard for it.”

“You did, didn't you?” You coo, one of your thumbs brushing against his hard nipples while the other teases the slit of his leaking cock. “Worked so hard to take care of me. Just need a little bit of attention in return, don't you?”

He nods eagerly, his lewd unabashed moans echoing all around the small bathroom as his high builds and builds, not daring to snap without your divine order. “Please, please…”

“Poor baby.” You tsk, looking at the man laid out before you and knowing in your heart of hearts that he was far from innocent. 

Rotten. That's the word that comes to mind when you look at him and you can't put your finger on why. But then why does he still look so beautiful to you? 

“Cum for me, love.”

“Yes! Thank you!” He cries out, his cum shooting out of his cock and immediately dispersing in the soapy water, tainting it like he's tainted you but you can’t get yourself to get away from it, the same way you can't get yourself to get away from him. You're rotten too now.  

“I love you so much.” He slurs as his body sinks into the water. 

“I know.” You do. It's the only thing you can be sure of anymore in the confusing mess that has become your life. That and “I love you too.”

___________________________

“Taehyun, what are you doing here? How did you get this address?” Your slow dreamy life comes into sudden disturbing focus when you see the one person you've been hiding from standing right outside your door. But your barrage of questions can't stop him from pushing past you into the apartment and back into your life. 

“I got your address from Yujin.” He explains once he's in and you look around in worry. He shouldn't be here. You'd barely managed to convince Beomgyu not to hurt him when he found out you had kissed him. What is he going to do if he finds him alone with you in the apartment while he's at work? You can't even let yourself think about it. It's too terrifying. You need to get him out. Why the fuck would Yunjun give him your address? Is she doing this to get back at Beomgyu? To get back at you? 

“Please leave. Beomgyu is going to lose his shit if he sees you.” You tell him as if that's not the understatement of the century. But Taehyun doesn’t appear to be phased. 

“I know. He is very dangerous. That's why I'm here.” He tells you, calmly acknowledging your statement that would have anyone else possibly running for the hills. “I have to tell you something. I think you were right. I think the dreams are memories.” 

You freeze in your spot, all thoughts of getting him out of here suddenly put on the backburner. What the hell is he saying? Has he gone crazy too?

You have secretly, shamefully, been harboring that rotten suspicion for a while now. The dreams just all felt too real to just be dreams. Nothing that vivid, that detailed, could just be the product of a slumbering mind, right? Besides, it didn't even stop at the dreams. You were having these “recollections” even while you're awake now, but you don’t dare believe them to be real memories because what would that mean for you? Best case scenario is that you've officially lost your mind and worst case scenario is that all of those dreams and images actually are real and Beomgyu really did all those awful things. You did all those awful things for him. 

“What makes you say that?” You gulp, asking cautiously. This feels like one of those moments that could forever change the trajectory of your life and maybe if you keep a cool safe distance away, you'd come out of this unscathed.

“I have been having more of them too. They have been plaguing my every sleeping moment, my every waking moment. They’re driving me insane–” He looks up at you and his expression almost knocks you off your feet. You know that look all too well. You see it in the mirror every day now. It’s the look of someone feeling themselves going mad and hoping that they really are because the alternative is just too cruel to consider–all the grief, all the blood, all the loss. No, it’s simply too much to bear, and you can hear the same torment you’re running from twisting his voice as he goes on. “Memories of us together… we were married in your dreams, right?”

His face is afflicted with an agony so raw it lashes against your skin in thick, bitter strokes that leave you gasping.  You never told him that. How did he know that? Okay, calm down. Breathe. This doesn't mean anything. He just had a lucky guess. Nothing more. 

“Yeah.” You admit slowly, watching him cautiously as if waiting for a further attack from him, and he doesn't disappoint. 

“You left me for him.” He says, an accusation in his voice that makes you falter. He is speaking to you as if he’s now fully convinced that the dreams are true, as if you really were married and you’d left him for Beomgyu. 

“No!” It feels strange defending something that a possibly fictional, possibly real version of you may have done because she's not you!--or is she? You didn’t leave him but you did. You don’t have to answer for her crimes but you feel compelled to try to anyway. “I thought I was saving you.”

But that just makes him angry, his fury so deep it couldn’t possibly have just been born today. It feels ancient, the edge of it sharpening over centuries. “Don't lie. That's not why you left.”

“It is. I swear. I just wanted to save you. I wanted to save everyone.” Your words sound insane even to your own ears but they're tumbling out of your mouth before you can even fully process them, again feeling compelled to defend yourself. You don’t even understand half of what you’re fighting about–your only aid in this battle are half-formed images of a fabled previous life you don’t want to remember.

“You’re lying to yourself.” He spits out bitterly, his visage taking on a hue that makes him look much older than he actually is–that makes him look like the Taehyun from your dreams, afflicted by loss and death and forced to grow up way too quickly. And here he is again, aging years in the blink of an eye. “You knew how crazy he was. You knew he wouldn't stop and you didn’t care. You just wanted to go back to him. You never fucking cared.”

“I didn't. I swear to god–” The way his conversation was heading brings a fresh wave of nauseating deja vu crashing onto you. You shake your head, trying to dispel whatever Folie a deux you both seem to have fallen victim to. You need to pull the plug on this insanity before you completely lose your mind. 

“Forget it. This is insane. Those memories aren't real. We're just working ourselves up into a frenzy. My brain has obviously sprung up all that shit out of my anxiety regarding me and Beomgyu's relationship, and after I told you about them, you started dreaming them up too.” You narrow your eyes at him as you attempt to rationalize your way through this mess, “Or you're taking advantage of my obvious mental instability to convince me to ditch my boyfriend to be with you.”

That must be it. It's the only explanation that makes sense and you try to hold onto it like a woman drowning, but Taehyun refuses to let you. 

“For fuck's sake, woman, wake up!” He grabs you by the shoulder and shakes you as if he could forcefully shake off the walls of denial you’ve been trying to build around yourself. “It's me. We've been reincarnated again for some sick reason and we're forced to relive everything we've done again, just in a different setting. Maybe it's a punishment. Maybe it's a test to see if we would choose differently. Choose right.”

“And the right choice is you?” You ask and he scoffs, looking affronted by the mere idea of there being a question about it. “It clearly isn't him. After all he's done to you. He imprisoned you. He raped you… He killed you.”

He looks as if he doesn't fully realize what he'd said until he’d said it, as if the returning memory was compelling his tongue to speak before it's been fully realized in his brain, and as the memory passes through him to you, you suddenly feel a sharp, piercing pain in your abdomen. It only lasts for a second but it draws the breath right out of you. For that second it feels like your soul is being carried away on that breath and you panic at the terrifyingly all too familiar sensation of dying. No. No. No.

But just as suddenly as that breath was exhaled, it was shoved back into your chest when Taehyun covers the phantom wound with his hand. Your own hands quickly clasp around his, and your eyes widen in a gruesome realization. 

“He killed our baby.” You whisper, your face suddenly wet with tears you didn't realize were there. Oh god. You're the dead ex-girlfriend, aren't you? There was never anyone else. It was always you.

“He did. He wasn’t going to let anyone have you if he couldn’t. Even your own child.” Taehyun says, allowing a painful melancholy back into his voice. “So he stole you from the world.” 

You and Taehyun slowly and fearfully piece together this traumatic past life you seemed to share, some details you had already recalled before while others were triggered by Taehyun’s own mad recollections. It's not a perfect story. There are many gaps in it but the main frame is enough. 

You were a Lady at Prince Beomgyu's royal palace. You loved each other but couldn't be together because he was betrothed to someone else, couldn't even tell eachother. But Beomgyu was secretly plotting to keep you bound to him, and it was working until Taehyun came into the picture and you developed an interest in each other. Beomgyu didn’t like that and he went crazy and… he hurt you. That pushed you to finally escape from him and marry Taehyun but your marriage wasn't perfect and Beomgyu took advantage of that. He threatened the lives of thousands, including Taehyun, if you didn’t go back to him. Taehyun told you not to but you did. You thought you'd be saving him and everyone else but you had just stupidly walked into Beomgyu's trap. He never intended to let Taehyun live. And when you finally realized your mistake, when you saw Taehyun's life on the line, you acted in a moment's frenzy to save him, plunging your knife right into Beomgyu's heart and ultimately succumbing to a fatal wound he dealt to you in response with a kiss and a promise that he'd find you again.

And he did. Gods help you, he did. 

It's a horrific story, disgusting, cruel, and you don’t want to believe it. It can't be. 

“We have to go. We have to leave before he comes back.” Taehyun pulls on your arm but you hesitate, automatically digging your heels on the ground and not letting him move you. He stares at you in shock. “You can't be serious? You're choosing him again after everything?”

You shake your head, panicking. “No, Taehyun–”

You want to tell him that you haven't chosen anything. You just don't know enough to make a decision. You still don't know if any of this is actually real or if you're both just mad. Even if your brain tells you it is, your heart tells you that it can't be true. This is ridiculous. Beomgyu loves you. He would never do this to you. And who is to say that he even knows any of this himself? What if he's just like you and Taehyun were at first, only feeling an inexplicable sense of love for you and hatred towards Taehyun that he doesn’t even understand the source of? Is that why he had been acting so irrational and scared to lose you? Because he has all these emotions he can't explain? 

And what about Taehyun? Yes, you had something maybe in a past life but does any of that translate into right now? Can you abandon Beomgyu and the real love you have for each other in order to build a relationship based just on memories of a previous life that ended tragically for all of you? Did that past Taehyun even love you?

You want to explain all of that to him but you don't even get the chance to before you're interrupted by the sound of keys turning in the front door's lock. 

Your eyes widen and fear grips your heart. Despite what you tell yourself about none of this being real, you suddenly fear for Taehyun's life. 

“Hide. Please, hide.” You try to tell him but he's not listening to you. He has no intention of hiding and you can see that when he grabs your hand and pulls you behind him roughly. 

When Beomgyu steps into the house and sees you, all doubt in your heart about the memories being false dash out of the room with the first word out of his mouth. 

“Again?” He asks coldly, viciously. “I knew from the moment you met him that this would happen. Even centuries later you can’t fucking help but act like a slut when he's around, huh?”

“You knew.” You croak, throat closing up to try to prevent that breath from escaping once again, fear shaking you to your core. “You always knew.”

You were too kind. Too stupid. He wasn't acting crazy because he loves you so much and was afraid of losing you. He wasn't acting crazy because he didn't understand his own feelings. He was acting crazy because he's done this before and he’ll be damned if he lets you ruin it again. 

"Of course I did. I have to find you every time.” 

“Every time?” The shaking spreads to your heart, weakening it, throwing off its rhythm. Your poor, naive heart that doesn’t know what to do with itself when the one person it loved and trusted in the world has been lying to it this whole time. “This happened more than once before?”

He laughs cruelly. “This, something else, the details differ but it's always us. Me and you.” He turns to Taehyun with rage that could hardly be contained in the small room. “Not him. I haven't seen him since that first time. The gods really wanted to piss me off this time.”

“Or maybe they wanted her to finally break free from you.” Taehyun's grip tightens around you–to hold you back or to protect you, you don’t know–something that Beomgyu doesn’t fail to notice, his upper lip curling in a snarl, clearly displeased that Taehyun even dares to touch you. But before he can act out on his rage, you speak up. 

“So what? We just keep getting reincarnated and reliving this misery over and over again?” You’re surprised he hears you when you can hardly hear yourself. 

“You do. Not me. I was only reincarnated once, right after we died. I spent many lifetimes in your tomb, mourning you. I thought that was what I was brought back for and I would've stayed there forever but I was drawn out by the gods who wanted me to realize they’ve sent you back again and again for me to find you. It's amusing to them, to see me suffer and lose you.” 

He knew from the beginning. He knew lifetimes ago and he lied to you from the start, made you feel crazy for having these dreams, tried to gaslight you into believing it was all in your head all while working to put distance between you and everyone else so he can have you all to himself. How long was he going to keep up the facade for? Is this what he did every time or does he always come up with new cruel and unusual ways to break you just like he did that very first time? 

“Why?” You ask lowly and he stares at you in confusion, not understanding the question so you gather up your strength and speak louder, more clearly. You need to finally get answers. “Does it ever work?” 

“Sometimes it does. For a little while anyway, before the gods decide we've had it good for too long and tear us apart again.” He scowls, blasphemously enraged at those mythically evil gods. “At first I thought they were giving us second chances but they're just laughing at us, watching us get together before ripping us apart like a child ripping the wings off a fly.”

“Then why let them? Why keep doing it?” You ask again and Beomgyu directs his anger at you. 

"Would you have been able to have all those memories of us, not just of our first life but every single one after, all these fragments of our infinity together and just ignore it and move on, just pretend like you don't know the other half of your soul is out there waiting for you to complete them?"

You shake your head. No. You've fallen for it before you'd even regained your memories. You can't imagine how brutal it is on him. God, to imagine him scouring the earth looking for you only to lose you again and again in horrific ways… it made your soul ache for him despite everything. 

"I have to keep trying. We were so close this time. We were fucking happy. I worked so hard to make everything perfect for us but you had to ruin it. You had to let him in.” He growls at Taehyun who was unimpressed with his entire confession. 

“If my mere existence was enough to ruin your happiness then maybe it wasn't real from the start.” He challenges, not letting you go for a second. He'd learned his lesson. His hold on you hurts, turns your hand cold and blue but you dare not protest. “You've lied to her, manipulated her and blinded her until she bowed to your twisted will and even then she was still struggling against you every step of the way. If you really loved her, you would let her go. I bet she was the most happy during those lifetimes when you were under the ground in her tomb where you belong. You killed her. You deserve to mourn her for eternity. You don't deserve to get a second chance with her.” 

“It doesn’t matter what I deserve. I know she wants to be with me, which is more than I could say about you.” Beomgyu’s face twists in a sadistic grin. “Despite everything, she still can’t live without me. You know, because you've tried to make her. She never loved you and it kills you to know it.” 

That works. Taehyun lets go of your hand and lunges at him. Beomgyu is on the ground before the scream leaves your tense throat. He didn’t stand a chance. You’ve seen Taehyun fight before, and Beomgyu–immortal being that he is–still is not able to weather the flurry of punches Taehyun’s trained fists are raining down at him. 

Taehyun pummels him to the ground right in front of your eyes and you can’t bear to see it. Yes, Beomgyu has hurt you. Yes, he has been lying to you and manipulating you all this time. Yes, he's done unthinkable things for you, to you, but you still can't just stand there and watch him get hurt. You're sick of all the pain. You want it to be different this time. Maybe that's the way to break free of this curse. 

You try to tear them apart but Taehyun is like an unstoppable force that has been dying to be unleashed. You cry and pull and plead but he doesn’t stop, slowly reducing the love of your life into a bloody, gory crime scene before your very eyes and you don't know what to do to stop him. 

It’s only when you see the glint of a knife as he pulls it out of his pocket that you’re able to finally do something to stop the carnage, and you throw yourself over Beomgyu in order to protect him. 

“Please!” You cry out, inconsolable. “Please, stop hurting him.”

Please, don’t take him from me again. You hear her sob from deep inside your soul, getting louder and louder by the second as she struggles to finally break through the rusty door of memory and time. 

“He has to die.” Taehyun growls, looking crazed. “He won't stop until he’s dead.”

No. No more death. That can’t be how it ends again. 

“I can't let you hurt him.” You sob, shielding Beomgyu with your life. You don’t know if this Taehyun would kill you–You don’t know if past Taehyun would’ve killed you–but you can’t let him do this. 

“I knew you would choose me, princess.” You hear Beomgyu’s muffled voice from beneath you and look down to see a demented, bloody grin on his face before you and Taehyun are thrown off him. 

He does it so easily, leaving you to gape at him in shock. If he could’ve done this from the start then why did he let Taehyun beat him up? 

You watch in horror as the tables quickly turn and in the blink of an eye it’s Taehyun that is on the floor and Beomgyu is on top of him with his hands around his throat, choking the life out of him. No matter how hard Taehyun tries to push him off, he does not budge. 

You try too. Beomgyu was never heavy, even you are usually able to throw him around if you really wanted to, but now he is like a rock that can’t be moved. You rip at his clothes and nothing. You claw at his skin and nothing. Nothing happens except the slow snuffing of Taehyun’s breath under him. 

“No. Why are you doing this?” You wail, tears burning on your cheeks. “Just stop. Please. I can’t lose either of you again.” 

But you should’ve known better. You should’ve known that would only make Beomgyu angrier. "This is why he has to die. We were happy before he came along and we’ll be happy again once he’s gone.” 

You can see Taehyun’s face turn blue as he struggles and fails to push Beomgyu off him, the only sound coming from him are his thrashing limbs, no air able to escape from under Beomgyu’s death grip. 

The view is enough to suffocate even you and you quickly say everything you could think of that might persuade Beomgyu to spare Taehyun, even if spelt your own doom. “Don't hurt him. I'll go with you. I swear I will go with you and I won't try to fight you ever again. Just let him go. Let him go and I’ll be all yours.” 

“Your promises mean nothing to me when you’ve broken them so easily before. It doesn’t matter. You’re mine anyway.” He answers, unimpressed and you shake your head. “I will fight you every day if you hurt him. I will never forgive you. You may have me physically but my heart won’t be yours anymore. You’ve fucked up so much Beomgyu. You owe me this.” 

He grunts, his hands tightening around Taehyun’s throat for a second–the poor man’s face almost turning purple now–before he loosens his grip enough to allow a thin, raspy breath of air into Taehyun’s lungs. 

“What does it matter anyway? He'll be reborn again. Away from us.” He spits out angrily, his fingers twitching–dying to resume their vice grip on Taehyun’s throat but thankfully holding back.  

"It matters to me. If you want me to let you have me, you’ll spare him.” 

To your surprise, it is not Beomgyu but Taehyun who speaks up, his voice so uncharacteristically weak coming out of his almost crushed windpipe. “Let him kill me. Maybe then I'll be rid of you.”

The coldness in his voice freezes the air in your lungs, forming jagged icicles that tear you apart from the inside. 

“You've made a fool of me too many times before. I will not live out another life as a fool. Free me of you.”

You hold back your tears. “Taehyun…” 

“You'll never escape from him because you deserve him.” 

Beomgyu looks torn between his fury at Taehyun’s vicious attack on you, and his relief that he’s ruining whatever goodwill you’d built up behind his back, but he seems to settle on the latter, a slow unkind smile warping his lips. 

“See what he is? He was never the better option. He would never love you like I do, unconditionally and forever. Let me kill him. It will do us all good.” His voice turns fearsome on that last appeal and you struggle to remain unshaken in the face of it. Yes, you deserve this. If all the little and big pieces of your past life that have come back to you are real then you deserve to live in a world bound to the monster you nurtured and hated by the one man who tried to break you free from him. 

“Let him live.” You insist, fighting both men for Taehyun’s life now. “Let him live or I’ll make sure that all that you’ve worked for this time will have been for naught. You may as well kill me after him because you’ll never be able to have me in this lifetime again.” 

Beomgyu bares his teeth at you like a feral dog, unhappy about your demands of mercy for the sake of the man who in his eyes was the reason he lost you–and by the sounds of it is intent on doing it again.

“If you keep me alive I will hunt you both down until I kill you.” He warns and Beomgyu looks at you in a silent plea, like a child begging to pour salt on a slug, but you shake your head at him. 

Do you not care about his threat? Of course you do. Do you not believe him? Of course you do. But just like before, you've got no one to blame but yourself and Beomgyu–Beomgyu because he forces the strings of fate to weave to his will and bring you together no matter how ugly and knotted it ends up making your lives, and you for always stringing along innocent people into it, tying them up into a mess that isn’t their own. 

“Come on, Beomgyu.” You put your hand out to him. “Let’s go.” 

You see the vitriol in his eyes soften at the extended hand. You know he wants to take it. He wants nothing more than to take your hand and disappear forever with you–Taehyun is an afterthought to him, this entire life just a distraction in the grand scheme of things–and so he does. He reaches out to take your hand, but not before he grabs Taehyun’s head, smacking it against the hard ground and knocking him out. 

You gasp at the violent action, withdrawing your hand in shock but Beomgyu doesn’t let you, reaching out to clasp it tightly in his own hand, reminding you that once you give him something, you can never have it back. “Beomgyu!”

He rolls his eyes, standing up and pulling you flush against his body. “He’ll live. Might take some time to recover, or better yet he’ll be dumber for it, but he’ll live just like you wanted. Now forget about him and just focus on me.” He grabs your chin and turns your gaze away from the unconscious Taehyun and towards his own face. “You have to hold up your end of the bargain now princess or you'll pay with his life.” 

Of course. Even this small act of kindness couldn't be selfless. He only did it in order to ensure your good behavior. As long as you live, you’ll have to appease Beomgyu's demented whims or Taehyun’s life will be on the line. A deal with the devil.

Your lips tremble and you ask yourself. Is this really what you deserve after all? Were the sins of your past life so offensive to the gods that the only way to pay for them is through eternal damnation with your monster? Was there no hope of salvation for you? And would you have taken it if there was? 

“Where are you taking me?” You ask in a shaky voice as he pulls you after him and away from the flat, leaving every part of this temporary life behind. 

"Somewhere no one will ever find us.”

__________________________________

The journey to this place in the middle of nowhere lasts longer than you could’ve imagined, longer than you could stay awake, that it feels like he was really taking you somewhere at the edge of the universe where no one can reach you ever again. You doze off as the adrenaline that had kept you going until now leaves your body, and Beomgyu is more than happy to let you rest in the backseat of his car as he takes you through dark remote areas you wouldn’t have been able to keep track of even if you were awake. 

When you finally reach your destination and groggily step out of the car with his help, you almost think you’re still dreaming, because in front of you is a massive mansion you’ve never seen or heard off before. All the way around was nothing but empty woods, the imposing and impressive structure seemingly completely cut off from the rest of the world. 

You look at Beomgyu in shock, the sleep flying off your eyes at the unexpected sight. 

Beomgyu grins–or at least attempts to through the swelling of his lips, his bloody teeth barely visible underneath. Oh, your poor beautiful boy. He looks like a mess. “Do you like it, princess?” 

“H-How?” You ask cluelessly as he pulls you towards the entrance. “Being immortal has its perks. I knew I needed to make myself a small fortune to show off whenever you were ready to come back to me.” 

You’re in for a bigger shock when you finally step inside the mansion, because everyone and everything here–all the decorations, furniture, servants and household staff gathered around to greet you–are all styled in a way you only recognize from your dreams. The entire mansion looks as if Beomgyu had plucked it straight out of your first life. 

And yes, there are people there. You had been fully expecting this grand building to be running on magic or something ridiculous like that. After all, if immortality and vengeful gods are real, what makes the thought that stupid? But no, there are people here and you honestly can’t tell if they belong to this era or if Beomgyu somehow stole them from your previous life. 

“Welcome home, my lady.” A woman who you presume to be the head of the household staff bows towards you. You just stare at her, mouth agape. She didn’t look like she was wearing a costume or putting on an act. She looked exactly how you remember the staff at the old palace looked like.  

And what did she say? Home? Is this really home? It looked like it–definitely smaller than Beomgyu’s old palace despite how big and opulent it is by modern standards– but you’re scared by how your guards are already going down by the familiar sight. 

Beomgyu nudges you as the woman straightens back up and stares at you in expectation. 

“Uh, yes, thank you.” You chew on your lip and Beomgyu chuckles lightly. “You’ll have to forgive my princess. This is all a bit of a shock for her. I am sure once she goes back to her old self, she’ll be much more mannerly.” 

“Ah, yes, of course. Silly me.” The woman laughed graciously in turn, “The poor dear must be exhausted from all that travel. I know we have all been waiting for her to finally arrive but I suppose our welcome party will have to wait for the morning when she’s properly rested.”

They have been waiting? They knew you were coming. Beomgyu was always going to win, wasn't he? It was just a matter of time. He always does.

“That’s right. She can hardly stay upright from the fatigue.” He pulls you towards him, and you realize belatedly that he’s holding you up by the waist. “Pray tell me that our bath is ready.”

“Of course, my prince. And a fresh change of clothes too.” She chirps happily, proud of her immaculate service. “It’s all waiting for you upstairs.” 

“Wonderful.” Beomgyu turns towards you and smiles, “Let's head to our chambers, love, shall we?”

Your spacious bedroom has an almost equally large ensuite attached to it where some servants were still fussing about, putting extra oils and salts into your bath to make it gentler and more calming, before Beomgyu dismisses them and goes about his familiar habit of bathing both you and himself. You barely register any of it, too preoccupied by the overstated luxury of the place around you to pay much attention to him undressing you and pulling you into the large tub–the water a perfect temperature, the smell heavenly, his touch both gentle and purposeful as he attempts to cleanse you of your previous life. 

You feel both out of place and right at home, the two very different sides of you pushing and pulling as you look around the room. The way this bathroom is decorated and even the products he’s using look and feel more expensive than your entire life had been so far, and Beomgyu appears well aware of that fact and quite pleased with it too–happy that he could finally show off what he’s been dying to for so long. You always had a feeling he wanted to shower you in the finer things and you never understood or accepted it because you thought he was just another broke college student making stupid rash decisions in order to impress his love, but now you get it. 

He makes sure to explain to you the source of everything he’s using and the rare ingredients that go into it, trying to appeal to that old part of you that had apparently yearned for spoils and riches. Of course these weren’t just simple shower products that normal plebs use. These were made specifically for you, just waiting for your arrival. He points out every aspect of the bathroom and the room attached to it that seems to be catching your eye at the moment and tells you how he chose them and where he got them from–how he chose the golden and brown accents because they’re reminiscent of the sunflowers you so adore–how he had the ceiling decorated in shining stars to resemble the stars you would see when you laid in each other’s arms in the palace gardens. It was all so meticulously planned and decorated just for you. 

Is it really for you though? It may have been for a past you but are you still her? Can this extravagance be for you when you never even realized that anyone would ever care to spend so much money on a place that everyone else uses only to get rid of their waste or wash off the dirt and grime off their bodies? 

But as Beomgyu continues to flaunt it all to you, you realize that even a room as ordinary as a bathroom is another space where the rich and powerful can show off their wealth. It’s a room where they go to shed the filth of the outside world away and relish in their highly curated luxury and beauty just as Beomgyu is doing right now–diligently scrubbing that real world off you and washing it down the drain until this fantasy mansion looks like it could be where you belong. 

If just the bathroom was hard for you to wrap your head around, you can’t even begin to describe how lavish the connected bedroom is, but one thing that catches your eye amidst the exuberance of it all is the portrait in the middle of the wall facing you. It’s a portrait of you and Beomgyu, or rather prince Beomgyu and the person you were back then. He is standing behind you in all his royal garb and you’re in front of him dressed in the finest silks and jewelry money can buy, shining like his most prized possession as one of his hands rests on your shoulder and another is seen wrapped around your waist possessively.  

“Do you like it, princess?” He asks after he dries you off with the softest towel you’ve ever felt on your skin, his hands almost mirroring the portrait as his slightly bloody lips follow the curve of your neck, not caring if he leaves small crimson streaks on your skin. “Does the place suit your taste?” 

“It’s…” You utter slowly, eyes jumping around the room as Beomgyu stares at you with hopeful anticipation, waiting for the realization of all his effort, but as you say your next words, his expression falls. “It’s a lot.” 

“A lot?” He scoffs, offended. “The you I know would never say such a word.” 

You gulp. “Well maybe that person isn’t here anymore.” 

Why would you say that? Why would you purposefully upset him when he’s shown you time and time again what he’s capable of? It’s a lie of course. She has always been there deep inside, slumbering but not dead, just waiting for him to come back and awaken her. 

“Not there anymore?” He growls, pushing you onto the impossibly soft bed and climbing over you, not as gentle as he had been so far. “Bullshit. You just need a little reminding.”

He kisses you roughly, angrily, with the weight of centuries of longing that had turned sharp and tender. You can’t help but respond back. Despite your words, she claws her way out of the abyss at his beckoning. 

“Why do you always have to make me work for it?” He growls, nipping at your neck while his fingers find their way between your legs, the easy practiced way he can get you dripping no longer such a mystery to you. He has honed it over lifetimes. “Why do you love torturing me?” 

You? Torturing him? He has controlled you in this life and the first one and probably all others in between. He has manipulated and hurt you in countless ways and yet you’re the one hurting him? 

“Because you deserve it.” You breathe out mournfully, “We deserve it.” 

His swollen lips curl in distaste. “I don’t care. As long as I got you, I don't give a shit about anything else. Let me be damned for all of eternity as long as you're mine.” He kisses you again, the metallic bitter taste of blood combined with his natural sweetness so fitting for him, your corrupted angel. “Always mine.” 

He pushes his fingers inside you and your pussy takes him easily, knowing who it belongs to before even you did. 

The way he has you on your back with your legs open and your feet in the air is a scene you’re sure has recurred over and over again across your centuries with him, repeatedly laying his claim to your pliant body until you can no longer rebuke him, your body knowing what to expect now even if your mind still struggles to catch up. 

You feel Beomgyu pull on your hand to wrap it around his cock, the silent order from him not needing to be said out loud for your body to start acting, your grip on him turning firm as your hand moves in that practiced way over his cock that has his jaw hanging open and his back arching into your touch, his eyes hungrily feasting on the sight of you splayed open and ready for the taking.  But he waits, letting both your desires build up to an unbearable heat. 

“Fuck, Beomgyu… just do it already.” You hiss, sick of the wait. He knows you're his. You've always been and always will be so he should just get it over with. But of course Beomgyu can't let it be that simple. He has to force you to say it. He has to rub your face in it so you won't dare disobey or deny him again. 

“Is my princess in there?” He cocks his head to the side, his thumb flicking your swollen clit, making you bite down on your lip. You can’t bear the way he looks at you. It makes your skin burn. 

“Yes.” A few hot tears fall down the sides of your face. Why bother fighting it anymore? He has won. 

“Does she want me?” He continues, pulling his fingers out and making you whimper at the emptiness as he takes your hand off him so he can replace his fingers at your entrance with the head of his cock, hot and thick, taunting you with what he could give you if you bend to his will. “Do you want me?”

He leans down to press his forehead against yours, locking eyes with you and looking right into your core, forcing you to face him as you give in. 

You let out a pathetic cry. “Yes. I want you. I will always want you.”

“Good girl.” He pushes inside you, letting out a heavy sigh of relief, like coming home after being lost for so long. “I missed you so much. I always knew you'd come back to me.”

He did. This entire mansion is a testament to it. And so you lie there on your back and take it, getting fucked open by Beomgyu, his beat up face not taking away from his beauty. If anything, his bruised and bloody visage contrasts with the backdrop of the elaborate and extravagant ceiling above him and serves to drive home the lengths he’s willing to go–the ugliness and horror he’s willing to let come pass so he can have you, so he can steal you away and keep you as a good, pliant fucktoy for the prince who had always been greedy for more than his fair share. 

“Maybe I should thank the fool for getting you back to me.” He murmurs, making your eyes jump from the glittering chandelier above him to his sparkling eyes that cannot be dimmed even by the blackness around them, that have only been put off once by death itself before he revolted against it and came back for you. “Getting you to remember us.” 

You frown. You know what he means. You were together before Taehyun came into the picture but not fully, not the way he wanted you to be. But now he's slowly getting back the you he's always been chasing, the you he may have only reunited with a few times over centuries. You understand that. Still that doesn't mean he can disparage Taehyun, and it doesn’t mean that you want to be reminded of him. 

“Don't speak of him.” You don't want to hear it. You're here, aren't you? He won and you’re here. He should just let you forget what that has meant for you. 

He smiles, more than happy to not speak another word of Taehyun ever again, and rewards you by bending down to kiss you as he fucks his cock ruthlessly in and out of you, fully devoted to helping you forget. 

“Fuck, I really missed you.” He groans against your lips before pulling back so he can feast his eyes on you. “Now that I have you back I don't think I can give you a break until I show you just how much I missed you. Gotta make up for all our lost time.” He drills his cock faster and harder into you, the wet sounds of flesh meeting flesh ringing around the room so loudly you're worried that all other occupants of the house can also hear it. “Not gonna rest until all your holes are filled to the brim with my cum and you remember just how much I love you.” 

“Gyu…” You whine at his loud promises, fearing the rest of the household is hearing his filth. “Keep it down.”

He laughs, fucking you harder. “Why should I? Everyone here knows who you belong to. They know their master will be fucking his princess every night. Every day. They may as well get used to it now because I don’t intend on hiding any of it.”

“What?” Your cheeks flush bright, surely he is not suggesting what you think he’s suggesting. 

“This isn't our old palace, princess. I don't have to hide what is mine anymore and I expect you not to either. And if that means they can hear or even see me claiming what is mine then so be it. It’s what I always wished I could do anyway.” 

Yes, you know that very well–images of Prince Beomgyu’s attempts at inappropriate touches in public flitting through your brain. You shake your head, whining. “Not hiding, just common decency…” 

“Fuck that. Gonna show the whole universe who this pussy belongs to.” He growls, and you feel one of his hands move between your bodies to reach your pussy, his fingers easily rubbing your soaked lips and making your thighs tense up. 

“Beomgyu!” You cry at the sudden spike in pleasure, your pussy clenching around him when you get no escape from it, his hips incessantly thrusting against yours and barreling you towards what you know will be a blinding orgasm. “It’s too much.” 

He shakes his head, fingers going faster. “Not enough. Never enough. Now cum for me, princess. Make a mess on my cock.” 

As if you could have stopped it even if you wanted to. Your orgasm causes your whole body to seize up–your thighs crash around his thin waist, your pussy spasming on his twitching cock, your nails digging down into the flesh of his back as you throw your head back and cry out loudly, the irony of you asking for decency not lost on your grinning lover. 

“That’s it. Good girl. Now take it. Take all of me.” He grunts, spending himself inside you, the first of the many times he promised you he would. The first of your lifetime together. “I love you. I love you so much.” 

In the heat of it all, it takes you a second to respond, a second too long for Beomgyu’s liking, and he grabs your face and makes you lock eyes with him. “I love you.” He repeats, continuing to fuck his cum into you as he waits for your response. 

“I-I love you too.” You gasp out, your nails digging even deeper into his skin, begging him to give you a break, the overstimulation ruthlessly gripping your own flesh. “I love you. Please.” 

He finally slows down. It takes him a minute to completely stop, and you can see that he didn’t really want to but he does iit for you. “Did you miss me?” He asks, doubt and insecurity plaguing his swollen features, silently asking you to put his troubled soul at ease. He may be a cruel and calculating being sent back to punish you for your sins, but underneath it all he’s still your lovesick boy, your prince whose soul yearns for yours, and it would be the cruelest thing of all to deny him that one thing that keeps him from perishing.  

You nod, reaching out weakly to play with his hair, your muscles cut down by fatigue then completely turned to mush by pleasure. “Yes, I did. I missed you even when I didn’t know who I was missing.” 

He smiles gently at that, letting out a small breath of relief that conveys all his vulnerability before bending down to give you a sweet peck on the lips. “I’m right here. I promise to keep reminding you..” 

You don’t know if he’s promising this to himself or to you, but it leads your mind to troubling questions. 

“Are they going to let us stay together?” You frown, suddenly apprehensive at the thought of those cruel gods he’d spoken of. Now that you have him–now that you know exactly what you’ve been missing, it petrifies you to have him ripped away from you again so soon. If you must be damned to be with him, then let you be with him, damn it!

“For this lifetime, maybe.” He answers hoarsely, uncertainly. “Every time you choose me, we're doomed further. They're just letting us rack up the debt.” 

“Choose? Do I ever have a choice?” Your question is innocent, your mind too scrambled to come up with an intentional attack, yet Beomgyu still perceives it as such. 

“Of course you do. You always do. If you reject me enough times, you condemn me to a hell like no other, to being cut away from you forever.” He answers defensively, needing you to know that you’re not blameless in any of this, and you know you’re not because your heart spasms painfully at the thought of being forever severed from him the same way an artery spasms around itself to keep from bleeding out. “If I force you then it's the same. You have to choose me yourself. That's the only way we can be together.”

A sick feeling of realization hits you. You suddenly get it–why he let himself get beat up by Taehyun. He had to wait for you to choose him. If he had just killed Taehyun and took you away, it would’ve tallied up against him. He had to let you doom yourself. Even if all you’ve done to earn damnation is to hesitate when Taehyun asked you to run away. Even if you did it to save Taehyun, it didn’t matter. You choosing him will always be your sin.

He's right. These gods really are wicked and unjust.  

“Do I choose you every time?” You ask in a small, shaky voice and he frowns, your question prompting what must be disturbing memories to spring to his mind. “Not always but most of the time.”

“What happens when I don't? Do you let me?” You hold your breath, anticipating his response. Does he let you be? Does he force you? Does he hurt you? Is every time you choose him similar to this time and your first life? Could you be pardoned by pleading that you’ve been forced into it or is the sheer amount of times you chose him enough to prove your wickedness beyond a shadow of doubt?

“Why are you asking about that now? You chose me in this lifetime. The rest doesn’t matter.” He brushes you off, goosebumps prickling your skin at his diversion. In his nonanswer lies the truth. No, he doesn’t let you. He doesn’t accept defeat. He never did and never will. 

“Doesn’t that bother you, what they’re doing to us? Forcing us into this cycle over and over again?” You push tentatively. “Don't you want to be free?” 

If you stop choosing each other, will you break this infernal cycle? 

“From you? Never.” He tells you with all the certainty and conviction a man can hold, forehead pressed against yours, your breaths intermingling as if your souls are greeting each other. “Darling, if they give me the choice between heaven and you, I would choose you every time. My existence is meaningless without you, salvation is nothing to me if I can't be with you. I would go through this hell again and again just to spend these precious few moments with you. Let me suffer alone for lifetimes if it means I get even one day like this to feel your love once more.”

Your heart swells, different emotions warring inside of it–eternal love for him, happiness that he is so devoted to you that even death can’t keep you apart, anger that he won’t grant you salvation, hate for everything he’s put you through, horror that you will never escape, soul deep fatigue at the weight of it all–but you can’t even begin to untangle them from each other because he doesn’t let you. This is your reunion and he won’t let it be ruined by your doubts. 

Instead, he flips you over, pushing you onto your tummy and pulling your ass up, the sound of him jerking his drenched cock to hardness the only thing you can hear over the ringing in your ears before you feel it breaching your pussy to fill you up again. He lays himself over you, his hips immediately go to work fucking you, making use of every moment he has stolen with you. 

“Gyu…” You whine, mind too fried to care much about the way you’re drooling over the expensive sheets. “Too fast.” 

“I’m sorry, princess. Just wanna make up for all the lost time. I promise I’ll be gentler later, will take care of you so well.” He babbles, the strain of the pleasure he’s getting from your tight walls evident in his voice. “Promise. Just be good for me tonight. Okay?”

You get it–his desperation, his insatiability. This is one of the only few times in his long, lonely existence when he gets to be with you and have you fully in this way–his princess brought back from the unfathomable and untraversable void of death and lost memories for him. And you can’t find it in you to deprive him of you right now. You’ll think about it later. You’ll worry about what this means for your soul’s eternal damnation tomorrow, but for tonight, you’ll let him have you. You’ll let your rotten souls rejoice in the company of their other half. 

“Okay.” You mumble dumbly, letting him take you like a bitch as tears of overstimulation line your lashes and your fingers clutch tightly onto the sheets. You can’t even pretend that it doesn’t feel good, every thrust of his hips, every touch of his hands, every filthy word he says, every load he release inside you–it all shifts and molds you into the wretched lover he’s been searching for, the walls you’ve built up to contain her getting torn down with every position he takes you in until you lay limp with no fight left in you and it’s revealed that there is no one behind those walls. There never was. She was always you. 

When he’s finally has his fill, and you’re more dirty and ruined than you ever were before the bath, he lays down next to you and takes you in his arms–his tight embrace suffocating and hot after what he just put your body through but he doesn’t care. You don’t care. You’re with each other, and that’s how your story always ends and begins. You've been here many times before and you'll be here for many more to come. 

You are at the edge of sleep, almost falling over, when you hear a small sniffle and feel him shake ever so slightly under you. You look up to see his teary eyes and you lift your hand to his face to brush those very costly droplets away. “Why are you crying, baby?”

“I'm just so happy. I missed you so much.” He whimpers, his hold on your getting even tighter. “I love you.”

You know. You couldn’t have understood it so fully before but now that you know a fraction of what he went through to get here, you know that his love is not a mere mortal love. It has defied fate itself and it will live on for eons to come. As long as you're on this earth, he'll stay here to find you, and when you leave, he'll follow you wherever you go, be it heaven or hell or the unfathomable unknown. As long as you're together, his wretched and weary soul can find its peace. 

“I missed you too. And I love you.” 

And I'm sorry it has come to this. I'm sorry I let our once precious love grow so gruesome and hideous that this twisted ending is our only version of happiness. 

_______________________________

A/N: aaaand that's the end of this portion of the story. let me know what you think of this ending. less death than usual lol.

would you rather get tyun's ending (mostly tyun focused) or continue the story from where this chapter leaves off (mostly gyu focused)? Or would you rather a new unrelated story entirely?

Here are some teasers for the two ideas

Tyun's ending:

“Where do we go from here?” You ask defeatedly and he narrows his eyes at you.

“What do you mean?”

“Well, you’re clearly angry at me. You don't trust me.” 

“Yeah, and?”

You frown too. How can he not see where the problem lies? “How are we going to stay together like this?”

“Are you thinking of leaving again?” Now he starts getting angry, vindictive, the wrath of the warlord in him cutting through the centuries. 

“No–”

“Because I won't let you. All your bullshit excuses are gone. there is no war. You can't pretend you're going back for the greater good.” His voice is mocking on the last part, and you feel your face heat up.

“It was not an excuse!" You sputter. You can't believe he's saying this to you. "It was real!” 

“You’re my wife. That's what's real and you should've stayed loyal.” He tells you unkindly, not interested in your explanations.

“So you want me to stay just out of principle even if you're just going to hate every second of being together?” It would be funny to see the way he has completely not changed even in this new life if it wasn't so painful.

“Maybe. But I certainly won't be made a fool of again and maybe it's high time you experience some consequences for your actions.”

Gyu's ending continuation:

“How could you do this? How could you be so stupid?” Beomgyu's response to you slipping out for the day seems like a wild overreaction. You know he insists on controlling every aspect of your life so you won't leave him again but going out to walk through the surrounding small village for a few hours could hardly have many consequences. Not when he apparently controls the whole village. 

“You’re overreacting.” You roll your eyes at him but that just makes him freak out more. 

“You don't know what you're risking. He could have found you! He could have taken you away from me!” 

“What are you talking about?” You push him off you. “How would he do that when you know exactly where he is at all times?”

You scoff at him but the scared look on his face makes you falter. “You've lost him, didn't you?”

He doesn't answer you, and you watch his face grow paler. “What is he going to do? You’re immortal.” 

“But I am not all powerful, and there are beings out there more wicked than me.” He tells you fearfully, reaching out to hold you once more. 

Unrelated fic idea:

“Fuck, this feels amazing.” He groans and turns to you, “Can I use him every day?” He asks you cheekily and you grin as you hump against Beomgyu harder. “I’m sure he wouldn’t mind. Look at him, he’s soaking my hand with precum.” 

You hear Beomgyu garbled moans around Soobin’s cock and you question him. “What’s wrong, baby? Is Binnie using his big cock right this time?” 

Beomgyu whines again and you laugh at him, but Soobin doesn’t find it so funny, not with his cock getting the full brunt of all of Beomgyu’s vocalizations. “Oh god, I’m close. Can I cum on his face?” 

You grin widely. “Of course, Binnie. I’m sure Gyu wants to help out his hyung any way he can. He’s so needy he’ll let you cover his pretty in cum because he knows that will earn him a reward. Isn’t that right, baby?”

Also you can send and ask for any of the characters and I’ll answer as the character

[bonebabbles]

Ivypool's Heart: Finished

Just completed reading the new super edition! I'm pleasantly surprised by this one. Overall, this was a very good book, MUCH better than the past 3 which were some of the most boring and unnecessary entries to the entire franchise.

If you were on the fence about this one, I'd recommend it. Just take this warning; it does the Warrior Cats thing where it harps pretty strong on parenthood and nuclear families being a borderline essential part of life, including a ton of bashing on how uniquely horrible this makes the Sisters.

If you can get past that, it's a pretty solid story about grief that makes some really fun additions to the WC lore, including the wildcats, StormClan, and a broad expansion to the afterlife system.

Meandering thoughts below the cut;

One of IPH's biggest flaws is pacing, but it's not nearly as bad as the past 3 SEs.

Not to mention, this is a pretty small SE. If you're ever bored, it won't last long.

Before the book introduces the Wildcats, it REALLY meanders. It'll pick up, but you will have to wade through relatively uninteresting scenes of the cats traveling and talking about their feelings unprompted.

A lot of "quicktime events" happen out of nowhere to fill pages with cats running away from random bullshit.

There's a horse carriage, an apple picker, dogs, weasels, foxes, a storm, traffic, humans, boats, sandwhiches. It's endless. My eyes glazed over during most of these scenes.

I know a lot of people were dreading Ivypool being nasty and unreasonable during this book, but honestly? I was hoping for it and didn't really receive it.

I find her most compelling when she's holding a grudge, acting on her anger, and generally working through messy issues. But aside from her just thinking about being annoyed or angry, she's really not snappy at all.

I feel like there could have been a lot more interesting and organic conflict between Icewing, Dovewing, and Ivypool's personalities instead of boring Quicktime Events. In fact, I felt like Icewing and Dovewing were kind of underutilized.

The conversations often feel quite stiff, especially in the first half. Everyone is very understanding of each other, respect boundaries and knows not to push too far, resolve their personal issues very easily, etc. It's kinda... unnatural.

Personally, I found that disappointing because I WANTED to see the cats actually process their grief over the course of the book. Watch them act out, maybe get in an fight or two and resolve it for the sake of the mission, have them come to a greater understanding of each other, etc.

Because Icewing and Dovewing are both so motherly and gentle and we're in Ivypool's POV, we don't really get to see them process their grief because of that.

They're not TOTALLY neglected though! I just... wanted more from this group.

However. I wanted LESS Rootspring.

I understand he's there to process the loss of Bristlefrost with Ivypool but god, every time he was on screen I wanted to push him aside and talk to Icewing lmao.

Stop trying to sell me "cool, mellowed from grief" Rootspring. He's a silly little hyperactive man and you will never be able to convince me otherwise.

As a silly little hyperactive semi-manthing myself, it would have been a lot more cathartic to see a clown like me going through grief. Not to mention just generally make for better chemistry with the group.

Between Ice and Dove who are already quite chill as characters, Whistle could have used someone more goofy to bounce off of.

I REALLY didn't like the whole implication that Rootspring is going to move on from Bristlefrost and "find a mother" for the kittens he wants so badly, though.

Erins PLEASE remember that adoption exists. He does not need a wife to be a dad. I'm beaming myself directly into your brains and telepathy-ing directions to the nearest cat adoption agency

aaaaaand on that note.... yeah. I did not like the way that this book leaned so hard on the whole "nuclear family" dynamic. Ivypool has had like two major interactions with her husband and one JUST happened in this book.

It especially bugged me that they leaned into Ivypool having been a very active mother, when we saw very little of that in the ACTUAL book. It wasn't even mentioned that Fernsong was allegedly the primary parent of the kittens when they were young.

But... I was able to look past it and just accept the book in a vacuum. There's a lot of good here.

Like the wildcats.

While I'm still wary of these being Scottish Wildcats and reserve my misgivings about the misuse of species that are very unlike domestic cats... I LOOOOVEEE the culture they've set up for them

I LOVEE the way that individual spirits reach out to the kits, guiding them through life

I LOVE the connection to StormClan

I LOVE their idea of the elements and general spirituality

And I LOVED the fact that a big part of Ivypool coming to terms with her grief was the expansion of her worldview. The way that she realized the religion she was raised with is quite small, and that there is an immense beauty in coming to understand other cultures, accept their advice, and see the world as they do.

I just wish the book had been able to tie that to a flaw that Ivypool has expressed since her very introduction back in OotS-- that she's smallminded.

It would have been a FANTASTIC way to really tackle and address that flaw, and pay off literal decades of set up. I really wish she had been messier in this book because of that!

But, digressing.

I'm over the moon that the team's actually playing with the series' spirituality! After such a long time of them outright avoiding some of the weirder elements in the series, like Rock and Midnight, it's exciting that they're finding some freedom in making new magic lore for themselves.

Hopefully, in the next few super editions, we'll be able to get some more insight to StormClan and the Wildcats.

The book really hits its stride in the second half because of this, and the ending chapters are actually fantastic. Some of the best stuff that's come out of the series (on purpose) in a loooong time.

[chatterbox-73]

kinktober 2024.

Day 9 - Deep throating.

Katsuki Bakugou x gn!reader

This story is a smut story for Kinktober, I’ll be writing more characters x reader one shots for Kinktober and if you want to see a character please let me know...

You must be 18 years or older to read this...

🔞⚠️NO MINORS ALLOWED⚠️🔞

A/N: this is yet another repost…😅 I promise I have other stuff scheduled, I just wanted to get these reposts out the was because I’ve been busy.

Summary: You receive an unexpected visit from your friend and old classmate, Bakugou Katsuki. After inquiring about his sudden drop in, you learn he had a horrible argument with his fiancé… so you help in release all of his built up anger.

Word count: 1.1k

CW: NSFW and adult content, dub-con (drunk/tipsy reader/Bakugou’s), infidelity/cheating, oral (GN!giving/ mention of GN!receiving), eating cum, hair pulling, face fucking, head pushing, swearing, and mention of sex.

There was a harsh banging on your apartment door, you flopped off the couch and onto your feet making your way over to the front door. The banging continues as you move towards the door, but somehow only managed to get louder with every step. “Yeah, yeah I’m coming” you shout as you unlock the door and swing it open, “what do you want” you hiss before even looking at your guest and before you knew it you where shoved out of the way. “Move it shit face” the guest growled and you suddenly realised without looking who it was… ‘Bakugou Katsuki’.

You sat across from Bakugou on the coffee table beer in hand listening to him talk about the fight him and his fiancé had, he explained his two week long business trip to America, and how she didn’t want him going. Bakugou continued to explain that she was being unreasonable, that his work is important and is the reason they live in such a nice house. In all honesty you’d always thought his fiancé was a desperate gold-digging lizard, and sure, part of it was probably your feelings for Bakugou shining though. Luckily you had started to come to terms with the fact that he chose her, however this didn’t stop you from watching Bakugou’s biceps flex every time he raises his can of beer to his lips. “Did I make a mistake rushing into marriage? I’m only 22 maybe it’s too soon” he asked with a completely straight face and no anger present what so ever, you shrugged “you’ve been dating since high school, she’s what… your first and only for everything, right?” You asked more rhetorically because you thought he wouldn’t answer, but you were surprised to see him nod his head while looking down at his drink.

You took a deep breath and sighed, “look it’s a weird situation, you and Tokage have been dating for 5 years it’d been weird not to marriage her after being together for that long…” you say before finishing off the last of your beer and continued on again.

“But then again you’ve never had anything different, you’ve been with her through almost everything and haven’t had a chance to grow by yourself… I honestly expect you to turn out like Kirishima and Sero” you chuckled and Bakugou gave you a slight glare, “what you think I’m some kind of man-whore?” He shook his head in disbelief.

The night had continued with you and him sitting on the couch drinking beer, at the moment you had finished your sixth can and had stood to get another. Bakugou innocently tapped the back of your thigh and asked for another, you wobble your way to the kitchen and back to the living room without falling. You now stood in front of the blonde wobbling slightly, “you’re pretty wasted, shit head” he pointed out, “it’s the only pretty you apparently think I am” you quietly slurred and before Bakugou could ask what you meant, you shouted “here you go!” And dropped the can while also almost falling backwards, Bakugou was quick enough to catch your wrists however was not quick enough for the can of beer. You stood up straight and shook off Bakugou’s hands “I’m fine, let me get that” you pointed to the can on the floor, and slowly dropped down between Bakugou’s open legs. You rested your cheek on the top of Bakugou’s thigh, opened the can you dropped and began drinking it, “have this one instead, it’s not shaken up” you passed him the unopened can that was meant for you, he took it with a grunt. You watched Bakugou as he took a large sip of the beer and looked back down at you, “what are you looking at?” He asked with a small smirk, you placed your can on the coffee table behind you. You then sat up straight, grabbed Bakugou’s drink and placed it next to yours, the blonde’s sharp crimson eyes watched you cautiously as your hand slide up his legs to the tops of his thighs. “What are you doing?” Bakugou questioned in an unnaturally quiet tone, “I think you know” you said as your hands moved closer to his pants’ zipper and belt buckle, undoing them with little resistance from the blonde. “Can I?” You asked as your hands ghosted over his growing erection, “yeah” Bakugou huffed as he guided your hands to the waistband of his underwear. As your fingers hook onto his underwear you lean in and kitten lick Bakugou’s clothed erection, when you finally released his throbbing member, it bounced up and bumped you nose. Bakugou chuckled at your slightly shocked expression, he then reached down and rubbed your nose with his thumb as you wrapped both hands around his girthy length. You shivered at the idea of Bakugou stretch you over it, you began to slowly pump one hand while the other held the base of his length. Bakugou sigh and then ran his hand into your hair, ever so slowly gathering it into a ponytail, “hurry up and put it in your mouth” he growled, and soon enough you had a full mouth. You rubbed your tongue on the underside of his length as you hollow your cheeks and suck, you can feel Bakugou sliding further down your throat and he guides your head. Bakugous free hand slips under your shirt and starts to rub and pinch your nipples, “oh are you sensitive there?” He asks mockingly and all you can do is whine. Soon enough Bakugou started rutting into your mouth, and then began full thrusting into your mouth, as his cock hit the back of your throat you began to gag, however this only excited him. Bakugou growled and pushed your head down until your nose was harshly pressed against his pubis, soon following that he kept rutting his length further down your throat, until he came. As Bakugou came he pulled out which caused his cum it cover your tongue and chin, your mouth hung open, tongue hanging out as you gasped for air. “Fuck..” Bakugou exclaimed as you saw his cock visibly twitch, you then swallowed the blonds load. Bakugou pulled you up by your arm and pushed you to lie down on the couch, he then yanked off your pants, before moving to your underwear but stopes when he had you snore. Bakugou quickly carried you off to bed and then went back to the living room to sleep on the couch.

The next morning began with a very awkward conversation, followed by early morning sex bent over your kitchen table, which was followed by Katsuki’s head buried between your thighs for lunch, before he had to inevitably had to leave.

Kinktober Masterlist

Day 8 - Kakashi Hatake: Overstimulation.

Day 10 - Yū Nishinoya: Sleeping beauty

[shadowshrike]

Astarion on Halsin Leaving

I can't stop thinking about Astarion's lines when Halsin chooses to leave your party, so have a fun mini-analysis. Note that this text is pulled via datamining because I don't have all the appropriate saves atm. Since the context of your personal story is everything in this game and can wildly change how lines come across, please take my thoughts here as a fun exercise with the text and nothing more.

I think the things that are needed to fully understand where my head is at regarding his lines are two fold:

1. How Astarion talks about other companions leaving

Shadowheart and Wyll can both also leave in Act 2. His responses are as follows.

Astarion: I don't see what Shadowheart got so upset about - it was not that nice of a temple.

For Shadowheart he gently deflects the crux of the matter. This isn't surprising because he is a master of minimizing other people's grievances when he thinks they're legitimate but inconvenient. Otherwise, he responds fairly mildly.

Astarion: So, that's how the legend ends. The Blade of Frontiers, cast down to the Hells. Hardly a fitting ending. But so few are.

Unlike Shadowheart, Wyll is forced to leave by being dragged to the hells. There's no justification he needs to rebuff for Wyll leaving the party's side, so instead, he uses it to double down on his philosophy that 'nice guys finish last and the world is a dangerous and horrible place.' Which, ironically, is not entirely unreasonable given the circumstances.

2. How other companions talk about Halsin leaving

The Good companions don't blame Halsin for leaving. Wyll even blames himself for not doing enough. Karlach also regrets the loss of another strong person around, reminding us once again that Halsin is physically imposing in the narrative, even if the stats say otherwise because of how D&D balance works.

Gale: Druids will always follow nature's purpose over any mortal threat. Halsin goes where he is needed, as must we.

Jaheira: Halsin long urged the Harpers not to abandon this land to the curse. I cannot blame him, for being unable to bear it a second time.

Wyll: I can't blame Halsin for leaving. We could have, should have, done more for him and for the cursed lands. They may never again feel the breathe of life on them. What a shame.

Karlach: Pity about Halsin. I was getting used to having an extra Strong around. He smelled nice, too. Like outside.

(Fun fact regarding Karlch's comment: Astarion has a line where he refers to Halsin as "musky bear-fellow" - musky is also the word used to describe the attractive smell of corpse flowers - and Halsin's underwear smells like an herb garden according to its flavor text. Apparently, the guy canonically smells really good?)

Even Shar Path Shadowheart expresses regret in losing Halsin. Not because she wants to end the Shadow Curse, but because Halsin's nice to look at.

Shadowheart: This land remains cloaked by Lady Shar's power - good. A shame it cost us Halsin as a travelling companion though. He may have been misguided, but I liked looking at him.

That brings us to...

Astarion's tantrum over Halsin leaving

Go ahead and listen to it yourself first, and then I'll dive into both lines.

Astarion: Just like that hulking bear to stomp off in a huff. I swear, druids care more about the plants of this land than the people.

"Just like that hulking bear to stomp off in a huff."

This first statement is not only indignant and deflecting, it's so factually false that it's laughable. Halsin is always calm and regretful when staying behind no matter how you treat him.

Player: You have to come - I need you. Halsin: This place needs me. I wish it were different - I truly do. As long as the curse remains, so must I.

Player: Do as you wish. Halsin: This isn't what I wish. It's simply the way it has to be - I'm sorry.

Player: The shadow curse was always your burden - not mine. Halsin: Yes, and so it must remain. I wish you success on your path. Had things been different, I might have walked it with you.

Player: Perhaps we can still do something to lift the curse. Halsin: No. If you linger, you'll only jeopardise your own mission. This is my burden alone now until either the curse is lifted, or I breathe my last.

Halsin is renowned for letting people treat him horribly and taking it on the chin. Him pushing back is usually related to calmly setting boundaries or expectations. The only times I can think of offhand where he raises his voice in anger is with Kagha, if you interfere with the portal, and briefly after certain parts of the Evil companion routes, though not as intensely (I might do a write-up on that later because his reactions are interesting). He certainly never "stomp[s] off in a huff", and he's not doing it now either.

However, the way this is worded gives me pause. Because "just like [him]" said so angrily gives the impression that Halsin has reacted this way to Astarion before. Given Astarion's habit of rewriting exactly how events went down to absolve himself of accountability, it makes me wonder if Astarion's tried to get a rise out of Halsin in camp and been shut down. Since Halsin is the only Good companion at that point who is also old and worldly enough to not get flustered by Astarion's cruelty, mind games, and flirting, it wouldn't surprise me if Astarion has built up resentment. Halsin refuses to be manipulated or confirm Astarion's cynical worldview, and Astarion isn't ready to consider changing his mind with Cazador on the horizon.

"I swear, druids care more about the plants of this land than the people."

This is, again, a false statement wrapped in a little more truth than the first. Druids are indeed infamous for putting nature above humans (see: Shadow Druids), and Halsin talks a big game about Balance and Nature. However, Halsin is probably the most people-oriented traditional druid we see in the game, going so far as to cause chaos in his grove by aggressively taking in refugees and personally traveling with an undead and servant of Shar because they need help. He chooses people over Silvanus' classic teachings so often that it's fascinating.

That aside, given what the shadow-cursed lands are doing to anyone on the way to Baldur's Gate, choosing to stay and attempt to lift the curse is hardly serving plants over people - the Absolute and the Shadow Curse are both significant threats to people. What Halsin is doing, however, is prioritizing his own problems over those of Astarion. He's setting aside the tadpole cause, not because he's selfish or duplicitous, but because he's not willing to abandon the other people he swore to help a century ago and has obsessed over ever since.

Some fun implications

Given all this information, there are many interesting ways to read Astarion's language beyond a surface "he hates Halsin and/or druids" level (gotta love his charlatan background making almost every line capable of ambiguity). Some personal favorite interpretations of his feelings:

Begrudging affection towards Halsin. Astarion has no reason to get so angry and make such absurd statements if he didn't want Halsin to stay. He certainly didn't make such a big fuss about other companions. However, since Astarion isn't in an emotional place to be able to consider Halsin's worldview seriously now that he's staring down Cazador, that admiration gets bungled into a "well screw you, I didn't like you anyway" attitude, much like how he handles some partner breakups.

Resentment and fear of being left behind or rejected. Astarion is selfish. He's been fairly consistent that he doesn't want to help others, but he also hates when no one helps him. That self-fulfilling prophecy is a rather large part of how he moves through (un)life and can easily continue through Act III depending on whether your dialog choices give him an opportunity to express it. Seeing a good person that he truly believes is good choosing something else over him makes the 'truth' of this cynical, self-centered worldview sting harder, especially as he is at his most vulnerable heading into Baldur's Gate.

Guilt for not doing more. Halsin has been clear about his priorities from the start. He's one of the most straightforward, reasonable communicators in the whole game. That means Astarion knew he would leave if the Shadow Curse wasn't lifted, especially since Halsin doesn't have a tadpole and, therefore, has no reason to risk his life for them. Since Astarion is almost universally unwilling to take blame for his own actions or inactions, he's trying to push the responsibility onto Halsin by painting him as unreasonable for following through on his stated priorities rather than let himself feel bad about not helping Halsin.

I'm sure there are even more readings you can think of, too. Hats off to this hidden bit of dialogue, the incredible delivery, and how much depth it brings to a relationship which is easy to ignore.

[itseyaaaa]

i think i can say that we all would love the idea of a Trojan getting a red card for the first time for protecting Jean...so here is how I imagine it:

First of all, who's getting red carded? I imagine either Catalina (ofc her friendship with jean is >>>) or Jeremy (ofc bc of my jerejean heart with jeremy protective bf ) but I like to think that Lucas is a valid option too yk I mean after the whole Grayson thing I think he understood that the rumors were all fake and Jean went through hell and he has a short temper so is not an unreasonable situation.

NOW why I think Jeremy is the best possibility? I like to think he gets it during the semi-final against the Ravens. So if they lose the match, it's gonna be Jeremy's last match as a Trojan bc it's his 5th year, and if they win, he won't play the final. So, getting a red card for the first time in the last match of your life in the team is something really meanful and will have a big impact on the public. Plus, Jeremy is a striker, so if they play against the Ravens, there are high chances of getting marked by Grayson, aka Jean's abuser.

Now, how does it happen? imagine with me this scenario: they are not fighting for the ball bc it's on the other side of the court, so they are just standing next to each other watching their teammates ready to receive the ball, then Grayson opens his mouth and says something really awful when Jean gets the ball. Like some really bad joke about his abuse/sex joke or him using Jean as he pleases, so something really really disgusting and out of line. Jeremy tries not to listen, but he can't stand it. He can't stand hearing the horrible things Grayson is saying bc he knows they are real bc he knows about Jean being abused, so he losts it and punches him in the face and they start to throw hands at each other and once the others notice them they stop the game and take them a part. Everyone is waiting for the referee to give Grayson a red card for punching first but he gives it to Jeremy and everyone is shocked bc how could the sunshine captain gets red carded at the semifinal in his last year in the championship?? What happened between them that made him throw a punch first and risk not to play in the final match bc of a red card??? Jeremy then gets benched, and when the coaches try to ask him what's wrong, he says nothing too furious at Grayson for doing all those horrible things to Jean.

When the match is over the Trojans get to play in the final against the Foxes, the coach doesn't want him to talk to the press, but he insists, and he just says that he doesn't regret punching Grayson even if it means not being able to play the final and adds that he is sorry if he let down the Trojans fans and reputation but he couldn't stand listening to an abuser joking about the things he has done to an innocent person. His revelation leaves everyone shocked.

[moralisist]

hobie brown x reader

a/n: requests r open 😉

warnings: i have no idea what any kinda british slang is so this might not even sound like hobie tbh lets just see how this all plays out 😭 might be a lil ooc… and a lil suggestive at the end

summary: hobie wants you there, right there with him, as he’s performing at his first big gig

“hobie, you have to go get ready! when i do your eye makeup, you can cling on me for however long you want to.” hobie has his first big gig. it seemed like you were way more excited than him seeing how he refused to get out of bed and was overly clingy this morning.

“no sweetheart, just 10 more minutes yeah? you can stay with me jus’ for 10 more minutes…” you can hear him drifting off back to sleep slowly but surely. he was unreasonably adamant in not getting out of bed which had you wondering if something else was really going on. you lay next to him and he clings on you as if it’s the last time he’s ever gonna hold you. you use your thumb to trace his face and smile at him.

“what’s wrong bee, hm? is there something on your mind that doesn’t want you to get up?” you’re staring at his closed eyes that are feigning sleep. he slowly opens them and sighs quietly. “not gonna lie to ya sweets… i’m a bit nervous. it’s only hitting me right now that this is my first gig. things could go stellar or things could go horribly wrong.” hobie opens up to you while using his thumb to rub your arms. you kiss his cheek and then his forehead and then his lips. “you’re gonna do great baby. i’ll be watching you and everyone else is gonna wanna kill me for screaming too loud. now come and let’s get ready.” at that, hobie gives you a little smile and begrudgingly gets out of bed with both of your hands laced together.

you’re doing your skin care and you watch hobie as he’s getting out the shower with a towel around his waist. “you wanna do skin care baby? it’ll make your face soft and pretty for today.” he can’t help but chuckle lightly at your choice of words. he loves you so much and he’s so happy he has someone to support him the way you do. “alright love, lemme wash my face first m’k?”

when you guys are done with your bathroom activities and have eaten it’s nearing the time hobie’s supposed to be at the gig to practice a couple hours before his actual performance. “okay hobie, we gotta go and get ready. go get dressed and i’ll do your eye makeup.” he does a little nod and puckers his lips slightly signaling he wanted a kiss. you kiss him quickly and go upstairs to get dressed and hobie follows suit.

you get dressed matching with hobie’s punk rock attire. “goodness gracious love, should we skip the gig?” he pulls you by your belt loops smirking at you. “hobie i’m not even gonna entertain you,” you’re giggling at his antics. “okay sit down so i can do your eye makeup and then we can go, okay?” he nods and sits on the bed and you straddle his lap while grabbing the materials you need. there’s a comforting silence as you’re doing his makeup. he’s gripping your waist and rubbing your thighs from time to time. you being here with him like this is calming the nerves he was pushing deep down about this gig.

“okay all done, let’s go we’re gonna be late.” hobie grabs the car keys and you’re both out of the door.

“hobie, you’re late!” gwen says sounding annoyed which you can assume is from the other bandmates since they’re all arguing about something seemingly minuscule. “honestly it doesn’t even matter, go talk to rest of them, they’ve been freaking out ever since we got here.”

hobie goes to settle things with his bandmates with his calm exterior and he manages to get them all relaxed. you were always so impressed that your boyfriends presence could calm anyone at anytime. they begin practicing and they sounded so good. gwen is playing with so much emotion and hobie is playing with so much passion and looks to his lead singer to make sure he’s following his lead. early comers start rolling in just to get some drinks before the band actually starts playing. you’re right in the front row, looking excited for them to start playing and give people a show.

they finish their last song of rehearsal and sound amazing. hobie goes down to the front row. “i want you staring at me the whole time, a’ight love? helps me focus.” he gives you a kiss and a semi long one before he pulls away seeing many people anticipating their performance.

once they start playing, you start screaming the lyrics to the songs they’re playing, especially to the songs you know hobie co-wrote. his eyes are on you the whole time. you can’t help but stare back smiling at him each time he’d play a beautiful solo. the place was getting more and more packed as the band continued to play with much more confidence then they had when rehearsing. you were so proud of hobie. his first big gig and he was doing so good on stage.

hobie finishes his last song with a strong solo. once he finishes, the entire pub goes crazy. he’s even getting standing ovations. you’re screaming your boyfriends name like you’ve been doing for the past hour, voice extremely hoarse. the band goes backstage and you follow, just wanting to congratulate and kiss hobie. “baby you did so amazing, i’m so proud of you-” before you finish your sentence, he pulls you in for a kiss smoothly. “heard you screaming my name the whole time. got me hot and bothered.” he smirks at you playfully while chuckling a little. “come on, let’s get you home hobie. gotta treat you after putting on such a performance huh baby?” you say slightly shoving him and smirking back.

a/n: sorry this was a little rushed towards the end it got so long it was exhausting for me to complete 😭😭😭

[camels-pen]

Hgggggh fic between arcs post timeskip, possibly on the way to Punk Hazard

warning: Usopp having issues related to abundance of food (too much food), self blame

-

The crew was running low on food.

Most of the others had their fair share of worries and thinking of their own solutions and Usopp was no different.

Until he was.

The initial announcement- of needing to cut back on snacks, to up the hours and people fishing- it filled Usopp with utter relief.

And the very next moment, a horrible horrible guilt.

He started to question his own intentions, actions.

Had he really tried his best to lure and catch fish? Why did he still agree to sneaking late night snacks with Luffy and Chopper, all those times before? Why did he bother when he hardly ate their pilfered food anyway?

And on and on and on.

Usopp had a feeling the others would try to say it wasn't cut and dry. That there was no easy blame to give, and no point in trying to find it. That maybe he should go easier on himself- or harsher, depending on who he asked. But even trusted voices like these- ones that were so much stronger now than during his time away- were no match for this particular failure. And yet, even though he'd admitted it to himself- that yes, it was a failure and definitely up there as one of his worst- it didn't mean he knew what to do about it.

The brave thing would be to fess up and figure things out with the crew, with Chopper. The cowardly thing- what he actually did- was fall back on old habits, lying and pretending and hoping they didn't see how he was dragging them down, literally killing them the longer he was there.

Workable solutions were hard to come up with, but he did his best to fix things without admitting anything in the meantime. Like making excuses for fishing duty, refusing late night poking in the fridge, that kind of thing. It wasn't exactly hard or suspicious thanks to their current dilemma. Usopp had been trying to fish for most of the days leading up to his excuses, asking for a break didn't seem so unreasonable. And they were already low on food so of course he'd avoid sneaking any more.

He never did come up with something workable, but still they survived until they docked again, ready to restock.

And they restock they did.

Sanji was antsy for a long while about the food getting low- and for some time before his announcement too- and Nami didn't want a repeat either, so she gave him extra shopping money. A good chunk of the purchases were things that would last ages and could be packed in the back of the pantry. Now, Sanji hummed a happy tune, a pep in his step as he put things away.

They'd all noticed how stressed Sanji was when the food started dwindling and the fish weren't biting. Usopp had heard him once, in the galley, tearing up paper and grumbling to himself. Muttering things about how he wasn't on some rock anymore, wasn't a little kid anymore, and he needed to keep it together. How the crew needed him to keep it together.

So Usopp should've been happy, seeing Sanji like that. Seeing him too preoccupied with his task to tone down his smile or the chipper in his voice. To notice he'd forgotten to fix his mussed up hair from countless nights of pulling and tugging at it. To drop the aloof, cool guy persona for a single moment in time, piecing himself back together bit by bit with every ingredient he put away.

Usopp should've been happy.

Instead, he was afraid.

Because with every piece Sanji built himself with, a piece was torn from Usopp's own body in turn, bloody and screaming.

Usopp wasn't afraid of Sanji. Wasn't afraid for him either.

He was afraid of the abundance.

The last time they'd stocked up this much, they were headed to Fishman Island and threw a reunion feast as soon as they could. He was overwhelmed with the euphoria and sense of rightness that filled him up, seeing his friends again. He didn't have the space to spare even the slightest thought to what hid behind the galley door.

And every meal since, Usopp had found comfort in watching Luffy scarf down most of the table himself. Almost like he was eating the danger away. And seeing Luffy do it, well, it helped Usopp finish his own plate. It felt odd- like he was using his captain as a poison tester- but knowing, logically, there was no danger to speak of, it didn't bother him. A rarity, considering the way his mind seemed to constantly twist in on itself.

But while Sanji put away the last of the groceries and Luffy asked for an early lunch, requesting something with meat- while the rest of the crew was lounging on deck, chiming in with their own requests- Usopp could only feel a growing indescribable dread. One framed by vines, ramen rivers, and cake flowers.

The others cheered, startling him. Lunch would be done soon and everyone was headed for the galley.

"Aren't you coming?"

Sandalled feet were in front of him.

The dread surged.

He needed to finish his drawing, he said.

He was making good progress, he pleaded.

He just needed a little more time, he begged.

"Oh."

There was a moment of silence. It dragged on long enough Usopp was sure he would drown under the mounting feeling suffocating his-

"You should eat when you're hungry."

A sharp inhale through a long nose. A pair of large, wobbling lips.

A moment's pause. Then the hat shading his eyes was replaced with another. Tattered, worn, and straw.

There was not another word before those sandals were slapping their way into the galley, the heavy door following behind.

It closed with a thorny snap.

Usopp's sketch pad was pressed to his chest. He scrambled to pull at frayed edges, trying desperately to block the blinding sun with his mangled grip.

His sketch pad fell to his lap.

The page was blank.

Usopp stifled a sob.

[completeoveranalysis]

[4]

AND NOW WE GET PIFFLE CALL BACKS?

Oh Clamp really do love me. This is unreasonably perfect. 

Who else begins the climactic fight of the series with, “Hey, remember this double layered question I posed 135 chapters ago? Let’s revisit that now!”

WHICH IS VERY GENEROUS OF THEM in the way that it signposts an exact conversation for us to think about and realise (without having to reread the whole series yet again) that the whole conversation between Syaoran and Fai in Piffle was REALLY HEAVILY honed in on the secret Lava Lamp crushing guilt and backstory we didn’t know about until now. 

Which is wild in the meta sense knowing that CLAMP planned for that exact sentiment to be the very core of a character we wouldn’t even understand for another 130 chapters, but also on the character level knowing (in hindsight) that Lava Lamp himself was hearing this conversation happen in real time and probably had an absolutely horrible time knowing that they were discussing ethics behind the soul-crushing decision he made that broke the universe and is still suffering AND seeing the consequences of. 

But how absolutely fascinating that after Shara our cloned Syaoran ended up developing such a similar insecurity about messing with timelines and the consequences of doing so completely independently from Lava Lamp. The parallel lives of these parallel people. The hitsuzen of it all. 

AND! Fai gives almost the same advice! 

Last time he said, “You can ponder over that all you want[…] but right now, it won’t do us a bit of good,” and, “If there’s something that you can accomplish if you try, then the thing to do is try. ‘Changing history’ is an idea on too grand a scale for a person to do anything about. It’s also important to accept that there are things you just can’t do.” And he was talking specifically between the Shura/Shara timeline changes at the time, but in relation to Clow? Lava Lamp holds himself accountable for every single thing that happened, but he didn’t do all of that. He was just trying to achieve a goal - which is framed here as a good thing (and is very good advice for dealing with anxiety besides). 

At his core Fai sees this same struggle playing out in each Syaoran and gave them both the same tips - but this time he can reference the previous time and really hammer it home. 

And, deliciously, it echoes even stronger here. The advice is to ignore all the things you can’t control. Just focus on what you want, and do what you can to achieve it.

Lava Lamp might still feel that he ruined the universe, but that won’t help him right now. Like Fai said last time, that’s on too grand a scale for him to ever take on his own. He has one thing he wants to achieve and he should focus on that. The timeline will sort itself out later. 

Which is SUCH a solid Dad moment. Kurogane gets to tell Evil Wolverine to fuck off, Fai and Kurogane get to flirt and insult Evil Wolverine to his face, and now Fai gets to give a touching character moment to Lava Lamp as they all share the final story beat together. It ties the Syaoran experience together (ironically, since the other Syaoran he WAS speaking to is RIGHT IN FRONT OF THEM but may or may not have the soul to remember the moment at all), and ties both sides of the plot together into this one big family moment. 

Though I’m slightly suspicious of Fai last time mentioning that It’s also important to accept that there are things you just can’t do. 

[balkanradfem]

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

[catbountry]

Speaking as Straight White Male it is beyond tiring to see every minor viral social media post turn into justification for "actually this is why men are radicalized!" Like im sorry they thought the Bear was a safer option, im sorry that poisoned MnMs was something that hurt your feelings and so on but holy shit get some perspective. i had my little "Not all men!" phase too bu i was 19 or something. learn empathy, learn that "Men" is a demographic and not you personally. it always feels like some flavor of a lack of reading comprehension, like that time when there was that thing where there was a thing of people thinking toxic masculinity meant that all masculinity is toxic.

it seems so unreasonable to say "the way to stop white men from radicalization is for women and other minorities to take them by the hand and ask them to nicely consider them people" rather than "dudes need to learn to tamp down on their knee jerk reactions to group criticism and being exposed to people out of their demographic"

The fact that you were 19 years old and had that as a phase but got out of it. That's the thing I'm pointing to, and I feel like I've not done a good enough job at highlighting that as my point. It's not even about a lack of reading comprehension, I think a lot of people who retreat to the internet for most of their socialization are more likely to be lonely and recruited. How many fucking Twitter memes do we need to have of people reading far too much into innocuous statements to prove that yeah, it is a lack of reading comprehension, but a lack of reading comprehension is not something that happens in a vacuum. And there are people who are very eager to sell people bad ideas based on those misconstrued readings because they speak to a feeling of disenfranchisement.

When I talk about this sort of thing, it's in a preventative way. Most people don't arrive at being a moral and righteous person all on their own; usually they fuck up along the way, have to apologize, readjust their views with new information and new perspectives. Having been in anti-SJW spaces, and having that phase last far longer than I'm comfortable with... I wouldn't have gotten out if I hadn't had people who liked me push back on some of the dumb shit I was saying. Granted, I was not some kind of neo-Nazi; I was an edgelord and a transmedicalist who constantly felt like Padme in that one Star Wars meme; the one of her in the field with Anakin. It was a lot less of a leap to come to a lot of the views I hold now. But if those people around me had all cut me off? Who fucking knows how much worse I could have gotten? Who even knows if I'd still be alive, typing this right now? I got into those spaces in the first place because people proclaiming themselves to be progressive were bullying my friends and I, on top of me being depressed and then traumatized by losing my dad. I was a fucking mark.

I'm not coming at this from the angle of "oh, if we just hug and kiss all the horrible Nazis they'll realize how righteous we are, uwu," I'm coming at it from the perspective of wanting to be the kind of person I had around me that got me out to people who were in similar positions to myself. I'm not seeking these people out. I have no desire to do that. Hell, I don't even think most people should do this, but because of my own personal experiences... I at least have to try if I'm having an otherwise benign conversation with someone and they say something off. I at least want to see if they're just speaking out of ignorance and they're not really all that married to these ideologies, in which case they could be rehabilitated, or if they're just fully on board with the fascist incel shit, in which case I can't do shit for them.

I want to be the kind of person for people that I wish I had around me that could have helped get me out sooner. And if they don't want my help? Fuck 'em. I want to try and make up for some of the damage I did because it feels like the least I could possibly do. And if that means steering someone away from that pipeline before they reach the point of no return just through a pretty casual encounter through just being stupidly patient and nice? I'll try, because that's just the type of person I am. Forget everything I said about suggesting other people doing this because doing this has burnt me more times than I can count. But I think I have helped keep some guys normal, even if it's only in a very small way.

You can think that I'm stupid or naive for even bothering. I don't care. But I'm still friends with former KF people who helped me get out and we support each other. It's a lot easier to learn empathy when it's demonstrated to you.

I'm sorry, I just... this subject touches on a lot of very personal stuff for me. It's why I even bother with it in the first place.

[mcdonaldsnumberone]

SUPER BUMPY!

michael kaiser: the new formula one champion that’s taking the world by storm. he’s unreasonably picky, and he’s always finding faults with a team that can’t seem to ever keep up with him. so he takes matters into his own hands in seeing if his new car for the season will live up to his expectations, all with a little help from you.

gender neutral reader

content warning(s): formula one au, slightly suggestive content

Kaiser was a finicky man. He had the bite to back his bark, and no matter how horrible his personality on and off the track was, no one could hold a candle to his abilities as a racer. That was the only reason why his company tolerated him and spoiled him to this extent, because everyone knew that he was an irreplaceable talent.

He grabbed your hand, half-dragging-half-leading you through the dimly lit hallways of the Bastard Munchen headquarters. His grip on you was tight and firm, like he didn’t want to let you go, and you practically stumbled through the winding staircases and sterile hallways as he led you to the garages.

“They approved the new cars.” He grinned, his smirk radiating with the sickening ambition that catapulted him into the world’s spotlight as the young, undefeated champion of the Formula One world. “I really hope they added all the things I asked for. I have no use for a car that can’t keep up with me. Less so a team that can’t fulfill what I ask of them.”

You had half a mind to scold him but decided against it. Noa constantly chided Kaiser about being nice to his management team rather than acting like a tyrant bossing the mechanics and engineers about how “the car isn’t responsive enough” or how he specifically asked for certain tires rather than the ones they got for him.

He was clearly excited to see these new cars, and at least this time around, he had enough faith to try them out. He had stormed out mid-testing last season when he found out that the experimental cars then didn’t go as fast as he wanted them to be, and the poor engineers had to scramble against time to up the car’s limits in time for the race.

Kaiser threw open the door to the garage, and you flinched when he flicked the lights on. You blinked past the discomfort, your stunned eyes adjusting to the sudden brightness as he herded you towards the center of the garage.

“Isn’t she beautiful?” He breathed. He finally let you go, skipping over to the vehicle presented to you.

Just like what Kaiser said, the car really was gorgeous. A sleek black and red, emblematic of his team’s colors, welcomed you. Gold decals glimmered under the spotlight-esque lighting of the room, and the curves of the car screamed of a luxurious speed befitting that of the racetrack’s emperor. Ads for his sponsors were emblazoned on the sides, the colorful banners and letters only reminding you of how much global attention Kaiser held in the palm of his hand. Even though it was stationary and parked inside the garage, you could easily imagine it speeding down the racetrack.

And with Kaiser inside… Right now, he was dressed down in his casual clothes, but you couldn’t help but think about how stunning he’d look with the car: the prideful emperor, in that tight bodysuit uniform—matching black, red, and gold as the car—with his trademark blue rose tattoo peeking over the neckline, blond-blue hair cascading down his shoulders like the stunning opulence of royalty, holding his personalized helmet as if it were a treasure bestowed onto him. 

Kaiser looked like he couldn’t wait to take it out and push the car to its very limits. Your heart twisted at imagining your driver boyfriend in all of his racing bravado. Kaiser was adamant about taking you out to all of his races, but no matter how many times you saw him in his uniform, raring for the tracks, you always got all blushy and flustered at the thought of his well-toned silhouette itching to demolish his opponents.

“Wow…!” You clapped your hands. “I’m not too familiar with the specifics of the car, but it looks so pretty!”

“Finally that useless team of mine pulls off something good,” he laughed smugly. He turned back to you and motioned for you to come closer. “But a pretty car doesn’t mean shit if it doesn’t live up to my expectations.”

“You’ll get to take it out for test runs soon, right?” You tiptoed closer to him. His blue eyes sparkled with an almost sadistic glee as he traced the hood of the car with his fingertips. You looked up at him, offering a small smile as you took your place by his side. “They went all out with the design, so I’m sure they put in a lot of thought everywhere else. I know you complain a lot about how your team can’t keep up with you, but they really do the best they can for you.”

“A team that doesn’t live up to my standards means nothing to me,” Kaiser snorted and shook his head. “But that’s a conversation for later. I’ll tear them apart once I actually have a reason to. I’m here because I want to test this car in a different way.”

You tilted your head. You thought he had dragged you here to show off the car to you, to watch you gush over his newest steed and fawn over him with your praises. Well, even if that wasn’t entirely his intention, you were bound to do it eventually at some point, but now you were the slightest bit confused.

What did he bring you here for? It was far too early to actually take the car out on the track, and all that the two of you could do was admire it visually like this.

As if he could sense your surprise, Kaiser chuckled darkly and reached for you. You gasped when he pulled you into his chest, his arms easily ensnaring you and turning you to face him. 

“What are you making such a face for?” He leaned in, and your breath caught in the back of your throat when his lips ghosted over your cheeks. “I always have a plan. An emperor always keeps his subjects within check.”

You knew he was having fun watching you shudder in his hold. “Wh-What did you bring me here for then? I thought you only wanted to show me your new car…”

He pushed on your shoulders, and you cried out when he shoved you down onto the hood of the car. You landed unceremoniously onto the polished material with a loud squeak, your limbs immediately splaying out against the car. 

You whipped your head up at Kaiser, equal parts flabbergasted and irritated. “Hey, what are you-“

The car shifted with Kaiser’s weight when he got on top of you, his hands firmly planted down onto the hood of the car on either side of your head. One of his knees slid up your legs, leaving you stuck between his body and the car as you stared up at him. Your voice died out mid-sentence as your heart rate picked up dangerously, and Kaiser’s piercing azure eyes lowered into a seductive half-lidded gaze.

He grinned down at you, uncannily resembling a cat that had caught a helpless mouse in his paws. “Do you want to know what I brought you down here for? It’s to test the car’s endurance, darling.”

“Endurance…?” You didn’t dare raise your voice any louder than a whisper. Kaiser ducked down, and you froze as he exhaled against the curve of your neck, where your pulse thrummed rapidly inside of your throat.

“Mhm. You heard me.” His voice was taut, brimming with the same tense electricity that he reserved only for races. The same icy concentration that he only ever spoke with when he had honed in on something, the kind of cruel professionalism that had left countless second-rate champions broken in his wake. “Every race car gets a little scuffed up during races. They crash into the track’s borders, skid against the roads—hell, they even crash into other cars. I gotta make sure this beaut right here can handle everything I throw at it.”

You tried to squirm away to no avail, and the blond’s manic smirk only widened when he felt the car shifting under his palms. “What does that have to do with me?”

“It means-,” he dipped his head, and you spluttered over your words when his lips grazed over your jugular, “-I can be a little rough with you as an experiment to see if my new car can keep up.”

Oh my god.

You thought the wind was being knocked out of you when Kaiser snickered against your skin. He pressed a flurry of kisses to your neck, his tongue cheekily swirling suggestive circles against your sensitive body. You clenched your eyes shut and pushed at his toned chest, unsure if you wanted to pull him closer to you or to shove him away. Not that it really mattered when he had you right where he wanted, pinned underneath him while he kissed you over and over again.

“K-Kaiser, wait- we shouldn’t be doing this here-,” you gasped out, scrunching your face up. Hot shivers ravage your body, and the sounds of him kissing you repeatedly filled your ears. You hated how smooth your boyfriend could be at times, managing to turn you into a flustered goop underneath without any warning. He knew which buttons to press to get you to melt for him, and his kisses weren’t doing you any favors to think rationally. 

He licked at your skin, and a cold shudder ripped down your spine. “What, are you scared? That someone might see? C’mon, darling, it’s not like I haven’t kissed you in front of other people.”

“There’s that, but-,” your hand landed on the hood of the car, pressing against it slightly, “-this is just wrong! We shouldn’t be making out at work, let alone on top of a car that’s still in testing!”

“I can do as I want. You know that they can’t do anything to me.” Kaiser’s teeth latched onto your soft skin, and you yelped out. A stinging pain rushed to your head, prickling all over your neck. You could tell that he had bitten deep, fully with the intention of leaving a mark, and tears welled up in your eyes as your poor nerves recoiled at the pain. 

You also knew he bit you there on purpose. On the left side of your neck, right above your shoulder. The very same place that the tattoo on his neck was, the royal blue rose that struck fear and respect into the heart of every racer worth their salt in the Formula One world. Kaiser’s tongue licked over the bite marks fondly, and you could feel the vibrations of his haughty laugh spreading across your skin. 

“Perfect,” he purred proudly. You knew your boyfriend better than anybody else in the world, and if there was something he wanted, he sure as hell was going to get it. You laid there, all meek and trembling, your heart hammering in your chest in anticipation of what he was going to do next to you. Would it be crazy of you to say that this excited you in some sick and twisted way? Knowing that he could toy with you this easily and you’d eat it all up happily?

Your breathing threatened to give out on you when his tongue was replaced with his hand, his fingertips brushing over the prominent bite marks on your chest. He admired his handiwork, with the same kind of glee you knew he looked down at fallen opponents with. 

“That’ll turn blue once it heals,” Kaiser remarked. “Probably around the time I get to take the car out for its first actual drive. That way we’ll be matching, and everyone can see what I’ve done to you.”

Your stomach twisted with sick anticipation. Millions of eyes on you, the whole world watching to see what fledgling champion would think of this year’s new car. Everyone would be admiring him with bated breath to see how this season would kick off, and his mark on your neck would be there for everyone to know that he’s laid claim to you.

He leaned over again, looming over you as you pressed your back fully against the sleek hood of his racing car. 

“But this is just the beginning of the season, darling,” he whispered. “And I’m not sure if I’m quite done testing this car’s ‘endurance’ just yet. I promise I’ll make it worth your while, so bear with me.”

The hand around your neck tightened just a hair. “You wouldn’t mind if I got a little rougher, would you?”

x

[ro-rogue]

i have very mixed feelings about the new bostin confrontation that got john expelled.

it is portrayed as the worst of john's actions in new bostin, his lowest, most violent moment. and while that last part is not untrue, i feel like the confrontation is a lot more complicated than just john going insane.

by that point, john had already been king for a little while, and he was absolutely terrible at it. (i've written before on why i think that is, and even his objectively horrible actions here were not excusable but understandable.) claire decided he needed to be stopped, and she gathered a bunch of their schoolmates to confront him, as her vision had shown. then, instead of trying to talk it out, zirian (one of the people she had gathered, for some reason) immediately attacked john, and everything devolved from there.

now, a few things stick out to me here:

first of all, claire took zirian with her to confront john. the question is: why? john and zirian had already fought on multiple occassions, and last time they fought, john had beaten zirian. did claire think seeing someone john defeated in a fair fight would make him realize he was a horrible person? did she think that if people saw zirian, they too would be willing to confront john? but wouldn't those people then think they were going to beat john up? did she not realize that if people believed her lie enough to follow her, they would be prepared to act on it too? i really struggle with her thought process here.

next, zirian thought that they could beat john if they all worked together. this supports my theory that the kids in new bostin had absolutely no idea how powerful a god-tier was. the wellston kids would never try to gang up like that on pre-ability loss seraphina - they knew she was too strong.

however, they did gang up on john at least sixteen-to-one (in episode 185, the shot with the most classmates shows sixteen people). when claire was telling the story to seraphina, she made it sound like it was completely unreasonable that john assumed that a group of people who all hated him, at least some of whom he had fought before, including the former king, would want to attack and overthrow him. "he refused to listen" is true, and something john has struggled with a lot both before and after the ambush, but to be honest, in his shoes, i also wouldn't have believed claire.

moreover, he is criticized for going too far in beating them up, but imo that mostly applies to claire and adrion, who weren't actually attacking him. the other fifteen kids were very clearly willing to hurt him just as much as he ended up hurting them. besides, they were attacking him fifteen-to-one, with claire standing to the side - what was john supposed to do? hold back?

the answer, of course, is yes: he should've. it was absolutely not right for him to go that far. but we must understand that john was sixteen, stressed, hurt, and facing people who were likely his former bullies, in the sense that everyone used to bully him.

(plus claire, who gathered everyone there, and how was he supposed to know that she didn't mean for it to turn out like that? and plus adrion, who called the authorities on him, which was objectively a good decision, but it can be hard to see it that way when you're the one who the cops are being called on)

in addition to that, if seraphina or even arlo had been ganged up on like that, no one would be surprised if they, too, fucked up their opponents. (remember that turf war back in episode 17/18/something? where arlo clearly wasn't just going to stop hurting rein, not until seraphina physically stopped him?) john was out of control and very much Not Okay, but his handling of the ambush actually seems to be quite typical for a god-tier.

so to conclude, the new bostin ambush/confrontation was more complex than simply john going crazy, and while both he and claire definitely think that he is the only one at fault there and he acted completely irrationally, that isn't actually the case, and uno readers should be aware that we are viewing the story from the perspectives of biased and thus unreliable narrators.