#I mean they were already married but they finally chose to have a public ceremony for it | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

stevesxyellowxsweater · 3 months

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Satisfied

PAIRING: Prince!Steve Harrington x Reader WC: 3k CW: Minors do not interact!! No use of y/n, very few uses of feminine pronouns, I believe that it is fairly gender neutral. Reader wears makeup, and a pink puffy outfit also called maid of honour. (Please kindly correct me if I'm wrong.) Angst, heartbreak, mentions sadness, cheating if you squint. SUMMARY: It's time to celebrate your sister's wedding! What a wonderful celebration you'll have... if only you were the bride. Based on Hamilton's song Satisfied AUTHOR NOTES: Here is my first ever fic based off of a song, so please be gentle with me! This is a total labour of love and I hope you all enjoy it. @entermxnson I love you, thank you so much for the support and always reading my work it means a lot. @reidsbtch thank you for reading it for me and giving your opinion. Credit to @cafekitsune for the amazing dividers.

The door shook as you flung it open, rushing inside desperate for a moment of solace. The tears you'd been fighting since the beginning of the ceremony were already starting to slip from your eyes as you slammed the bathroom stall shut. Sitting on the toilet seat you watched the awful pink plume of a dress your sister chose rise for a moment. Anger and frustration caused you to fight it down to reach for the tissue as the tears truly began to fall.

Nothing felt right, everything inside you just hurt. Having to watch the man you love marry another woman ripped your heart in two. Maybe you would have learnt to deal with it, but the person he married was your sister. Mascara tears flowed down your face, you were unable to stop them. He looked so handsome today, he looked so perfect. But he wasn't yours, he was hers. Prince Steve Harrington chose his bride and that was your younger sister.

The door to the bathroom opened, and heels clicked gently as someone entered the room. “It's almost time for your toast.” It was your youngest sister, did she know you were crying? Did she know you loved your sister's husband? “Dad is about to start.” You wiped your eyes and steadied yourself, hoping that she'd not hear the sadness in your voice as you spoke. “I'll be right out, this damn dress is a pain to go to the bathroom in.”

She laughed, she didn't know. “I'll tell Dad to start, maybe Dustin can give his speech before you.” You smiled, thankful at the idea. “I'll be right there.” You said once more. There was a pause and your heart thumped hard as you thought she was going to say more. “Okay.” She finally said before her heels clicked away and the door swished open and shut. You sat there in science for a moment, the tears still wanting to trickle down your face. But you knew you needed to lock them away.

Standing up, you stepped out of the stall to see the damage your tears had done to your war paint. Fixing it the best you could, you then took several deep breaths and left the bathroom to face your doom. You hated public speaking, but you had to do this, you had to because she'd begged you to stand here and raise a glass in front of the royals, in front of his friends and your friends. In front of Billy Hargrove, you should've agreed to date all those years back instead of telling him he disgusted you.

Stepping into the room, you could feel a sinking feeling in your stomach as you approached Dustin Henderson and the microphone. “Alright, alright. Here's the moment we've all been waiting for, give it up for the maid of honour!” You smiled gently and took the microphone as everyone around you clapped. Taking a deep breath, you stared at the floor trying to focus. You needed to speak, you needed to say something but your heart was aching, your stomach swirling, and you just wanted to run away. “I’m not much for public speaking, so I’m going to keep this short and sweet.” You said with a gentle and almost awkward laugh.

You stared at the floor for a moment, trying to come up with words. You were meant to have something written, but you hadn’t been able to. Each time you tried to put something on paper all you could do was think about Steve and how he was meant to be yours. How he should’ve been yours. Now it was dooms day and here you were, nothing prepared and all fucking eyes were on you. You could always wing it, no one would know. Right?

Snapping out of your trance, you looked up and smiled. “A toast to the groom.” You said lifting your glass to the room. “And to the bride, from your sister who is always by your side.” You said with a smile and placed a hand on your chest. You did love her, even if your heart was shattered, she was your best friend. “To your union, and the hope that you provide to everyone here.” You smiled around the room as your cup was lifted high. “May you always…” your eyes landed on Steve, his eyes were glued to yours. His long fingers held his champaign flute high as he watched you. “Be satisfied.”

As the words left your mouth, as your eyes took in the sight of the man you loved, he slowly lowered his glass while everyone toasted. The pair of you stared deep into each other's eyes, unable to look away. The world around you began to rewind and go back to that night that you would regret for the rest of your days. The night you met and lost the only person who you ever wanted, and you gave up for family.

The lights twinkled like candlelight, it felt like a dream as you and your sisters arrived at the party. From the moment you stepped inside the ballroom, eligible men began to fawn over the three of you, desperate to get your attention. Your family was well off, and everyone knew it. Weaving through the crowd, you got yourself a glass of champagne and swayed to the music enjoying the scene around you for a moment as you stood alone.

Several men had approached you while you enjoyed your time people-watching, not a single one was interesting to you at all. Hargrove, Munson, Byers. With a simple smile and a decline of dancing, they moved on quickly to other women, some trying your sisters, some approaching Nancy Wheeler or Tammy Thompson. None of them mattered to you, even interested you. They didn’t make your heart race.

But then you saw him.

Everything changed in that moment, you knew you'd never be the same again. Those beautiful eyes, that perfectly crafted jaw. Slender body, he looked muscular even if he looked a tad skinny. His eyes locked to yours, and it was as if time stood still for a moment. He began to move fighting against the sea to meet you. Straight across the dance floor, bumping into couples, his eyes never leaving you for a second.

Maybe it was gravity, he was the sun and you were a planet. Or maybe he was a magnet attracting you with an intensity that you had never felt before. Either way, you made your way to him, meeting near the edge of the dance floor. Your eyes focused on each other, neither daring to look away.

“Hi.” Your heart skipped a beat as he continued to stare deep into your soul. His voice was as silky smooth as caramel. What was a proper greeting? What was your name again? You couldn't remember as you stared at him, fuck how could someone have such an effect on you? This never happened to you before, you weren’t that sort of person.

“Hi.” You finally managed to say. He smiled and stretched his hand out. “May I have this dance?” He questioned, before he could even finish his sentence your hand was on his. His touch set you on fire, every part of you aflame.

Moving to the dance floor, the pair of you began to dance. His arm around your waist as he held your hand, your other resting on his shoulder. Your bodies moved close together, an intense desire bubbling between the two of you, that neither of you had ever felt before. You couldn’t take your eyes off of his face. The way moles littered his face, how his hair just fell perfectly in place almost like he wasn’t even trying. Was this what love felt like?

“You strike me as a person who has never been satisfied.” The way he spoke in your ear sent your stomach twisting, desperation and desire bubbling up inside of you. You were practically salivating as you felt yourself becoming turned on by his voice. “I’m sure I don't know what you mean, you forget yourself.” You replied looking up at him. He was bold, and you liked it.

He smiled, a boyish smile on his face. “You're like me, I'm never satisfied.” His face was close to yours, you could feel his breath on your face as you thought about what it would be like to feel his lips on yours. Biting your lip, you looked up at him attempting to keep your composure. “Is that right?” You asked, unable to stop the smile from breaking through. “I've never been satisfied.” He whispered to you. Your eyes met as your lips moved close to each other’s. You didn’t feel like you could breathe, you wanted him.

You told him your name with a smile, proud of your family. “Steve Harrington.” He replied. “Where is your family from?” He smiled and shook it off. “Unimportant, there's a million things I haven’t done, so just you wait.” He told you as his forehead touched yours. His hands fidgeting didn't go unnoticed, or the way he looked away for a moment. It was like he was hiding something.

He was so graceful on his feet, his eyes were locked to yours at each moment. You couldn't stop smiling. Even as the song ended, you were meant to clap for the band. But Steve kept hold of your hand, not wanting to let you go. He escorted you to the side so you could talk more.

You began to talk about literature, about science, and so much more. He was like you, you had so much in common. You'd never before met someone who matched your wit. What was the catch? He seemed too good to be true, was it possible to see find your soulmate tonight?

You couldn't stop the hopeful feeling inside you. You rarely found someone that you had so much in common with, and yet here you were. Steve Harrington, the man who came from nowhere and wormed his way into your heart with only a few minutes of your time.

Of course you couldn't help but notice how much of a flirt he was, the way he touched your arm, the way he gazed into your eyes. His smile was causing you to melt on the spot, for heat to pool between your legs. You needed him more than you could ever begin to admit.

He was so handsome, and he clearly knew it. Your eyes studied his jaw and how his beard fuzz was beginning to settle in. His eyes were the most captivating thing you'd ever seen and the way his face was decorated with moles and freckles. Were they all over his body? You questioned mentally as he spoke, saying something to make you laugh.

You decide that you want to take him away, that you want to be alone with him, that privacy was something you were desperate for with Steve. You were in society, of course you shouldn't be thinking about what the pair of you could do alone, but it was so very tempting. Alone with Steve, a place where your lips could meet and the pair of you could give into the hunger that you both felt.

Turning to lead him away, your eyes landed on your sister across the room. Her eyes were on Steve and you suddenly realized the look she had on her face, she was in love. She was helpless as she gazed at Steve, she wanted him as badly as you did and as you stared at her you began to realize three reasons you shouldn't be with him.

“Where are you taking me?” You heard Steve ask, your hand still holding his. “I'm about to change your life.” You tell him with a smile. “Then by all means lead the way.” He said his fingers brushing over yours as he smiled. You know that this is the last moment he will be yours, the last minute that you will ever see him look at you that way.

Number one.

You were the oldest, it was your job to marry a well off man who could help take care of your father when he was old. You were the best choice though, even if you did say so yourself. But from the insidious gossip that echoed throughout the town Steve was penniless… but that didn't mean you wanted him any less.

You watched your sister introduce herself to Steve, a shy but bold smile as she looked at him. His eyes looked toward you as he heard the last name. “She's my sister.” You said with a charming grin.

Number two.

He was only after you because of your last name, you'd be naive to ignore that. He knew you were rich, he knew that it would set him on the right path. You couldn't have someone using you, so your sister seemed like the better option. Of course if you'd of realized the truth, if you knew who he was you'd have kept him for yourself.

Watching as the two of them spoke, the way he held her hand and placed a kiss on it, it hurt. He was meant to be yours, he should've been yours. “I'll leave you to it.” You walked away, your hand moving to your chest as you did, it hurt. You were in so much pain at the loss of him. If you'd of looked back you'd have seen his eyes on you asking you to stay, asking for you.

Number three.

You knew your like you knew yourself, she was a good person and if you told her that you loved him she'd resign and he'd be yours. But you couldn't do that to her, you couldn't tell her that. Even if you told her that you loved him, and she told you that it was fine to have him. You knew she would've been lying. Glancing back for just a moment, you felt your heart breaking. He was no longer yours.

As your words for your toast echoed around you, you glanced down at the glass in your hand. You tried your best to keep your emotions in check. Looking up you smiled, before walking away. You didn't want to stay here, you couldn't stand it.

Stepping out into cool night air, your hands held onto your chest. Every night since you first met you think about him, you'd fantasize about his eyes and each little part of him. You wished you'd not sized him up so quickly. It had been the biggest blow when you discovered he was a prince.

Tears began to trickle down your cheeks, at least you knew your sister would be happy as his bride. You'd never seen her so fucking happy. Even if you were miserable, at least she was. You honestly didn't care about the crown, didn't care that he was royal or rich, you only cared about him. But now your sister was his princess.

A jacket wrapped around your shoulders, cutting the cold from reaching you. You didn't need to turn around to know who it was, you could smell the expensive cologne. His presence always caused your heart to flutter. It always made your stomach twisted and made you feel nervous.

It was Steve.

“You strike me as a person who has never been satisfied.” He said in your ear, you could feel his touch, feel his hands on your waist and it was driving you insane.”I don't know what you mean, you forget yourself.” You whisper gently as you turn your head to look at him.

Your bodies were close, his hands on your arms, his breath in your ear. You just wanted him to hold you and tell you it was okay. Sighing gently you bit your lip. “You're like me, I'll never be satisfied.” He whispered to the point you could feel his lips on your ear.

“You shouldn't have said that in your toast.” Turning around you looked at him, your tears shon in the light. Slowly Steve reached up and wiped away your tears. “I don't care…” you whispered your voice breaking as you spoke. Without a word he pulled you into a hug and held onto you tightly.

You could feel his large hands on your back, the way he held you made you wish that you didn't just have to fantasize about him. But you knew that your sister would be happy as his bride, you couldn't do that to her. You didn't have it in your heart to hurt her.

Pulling back slightly, you looked into Steve’s eyes. His fingers moved to brush your hair from your face. “I will never be satisfied.” He whispered as he kept his eyes on you, unable to look away. You wanted so desperately to just have one kiss, just a single kiss with him. But you couldn't, he wasn’t yours.

Hearing calls of his name he glanced back toward the hall and sighed. Leaning forward he pressed his head against yours for a moment. Just soaking in that feeling of how losing a soulmate felt. You stood together, foreheads pressing to each other for maybe a moment before he stepped away.

Slipping off his jacket, you pushed it into his hand. It seemed as he took it his scent went with him. He looked you in the eyes one last time, glaning down you sighed as you heard his footsteps recede. It felt like he was walking out of your life forever. Looking up, you watched him as he glanced at you one last time before he left to go back inside to find his bride. As he disappeared in the crowd, the sadness bubbled over and the tears started once more.

“He will never be satisfied.” You whispered as you took a seat on a bench, your hands wiped away your tears as his lingering touch faded from you. “I will never be satisfied.”

Tag list: @entermxnson @mrprettywhenhecries @shescreamslikeachild @halflifejess @keerysfolklore @stveharringtn @darleenjade @reidsbtch @inourtownofhawkins @tsukillama @southerngothicchic @artheauxyongguk @bubbblessss @eddie-steve1986 @wroteclassicaly @freckledjoes @kingstevc @lesservillain @rattkween86 @take-everything-you-can @we-out-here-simping @stevesbeautifulhair @honey-eyed-munson @teen--marvel @corrodeddeadlydoll @pumpkinonice @diffrent-spokes @megxplryxb @cherryflavoredchapsticck @season4steve @sh0rtcakee @joekeerysmoles @littleplushpumpkin @eddielove @sweetdazequeen @sweetsweetjellybean @yourfavoritewitchbitch @bunnyhargrove

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#Steve Harrington x reader #reader x Steve Harrington #Steve harrington one shot #steve Harrington x you #You x Steve Harrington #steve harrington x gn!reader #steve harrington x fem!reader #Prince!steve Harrington #Steve Harrington au #steve Harrington imagine #Steve Harrington imagines #steve harrington fic #steve harrington fanfic #Stranger things fanfic #stranger things one shot #satisfied

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negative-speedforce · 9 months

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for your married OCs 2, 3, 6, 7, 10, 11, 12, 13, 17, 19, 21 :)

Gonna do this for Jay and Cassandra lol (since they are very much engaged and will be married soon)

2: Which one proposed? Was it grand and public? Discreet and private? Was it expected?

Jay proposed to Cassandra, and he did it in private, in their kitchen at home. They had already discussed it beforehand to make sure she was okay with it.

3: Show us their engagement and/or wedding rings!

Cassandra:

Jay

6: Who were the first people to find out about the engagement? How did they react?

Jay told Siv about his engagement first. She was extremely excited for him, though somewhat concerned that they weren't invited to the wedding because Cassandra didn't like them.

Cassandra told her dads first. They liked Jay a lot, so they were very happy for her, and they immediately began offering to fly out from Brooklyn for the wedding.

7: Who are the maids of honor and/or best men? Why and how were they chosen?

Hailey was Cassandra's maid of honor. She chose Hailey because she trusted her to be the most competent and be able to make sure her big day went off without a hitch.

Gina's brother, Jose, was Jay's best man. He chose him because he knew that Gina would have wanted to be there for the wedding, and her older brother was the next best thing.

10: Do they get married through court? Church? Third secret option?

Jay and Cassandra get married at a winery near Seattle, officiated by one of Cassandra's dads, who technically counts as an ordained minister due to him being the head of the Akintola-Stevens coven.

11: When do they get married? Night or day? Any specific reason for either?

Cassandra and Jay get married in the the afternoon, since that's when the vast majority of their guests are available. Additionally, their wedding was in February, so they could immediately leave to fulfill one of Cassandra's bucket list items while on honeymoon- going to Carnival in Rio De Janeiro

12: Do either of them play music while walking down the aisle (if they do at all)? If yes, show us their song.

While Cassandra is walking up the aisle:

youtube

13: Show us their outfits!

Cassandra: Hair and outfit

Jay: Suit and tie

17: Show us their vows. Did either of them tear up at them?

Cassandra: Jason, you know I'm a woman of few words, so I'm going to keep this short- you changed. Ever since I met you, it was like my boring world of protocol and duty opened up, and I was finally able to see the world how you do- a bright place, full of possibilities, and connections to make. You've been with me through the good and the bad, from angry speedsters to other angry speedsters who you somehow managed to befriend. In this partnership, I pledge to love you, support you, and fight for and with you, as long as our love remains. You are a light, Jay, and I can't wait to spend forever with you.

Jay: For once, Cassandra, I don't know what to say. I love you more than I, or any metaphor, could express, and that just makes me adore you even more. I pledge to be there with you for as long as our love remains, through every trial, as your partner in crime, and fighting said crime. You mean everything to me, and being with you made me a better man.

19: What was the ceremony like? Any highlights?

The highlight of the ceremony was when Arya decided to pretend to object to the wedding, in order to stir up chaos, only to shrug their shoulders and say "Just kidding. You two are adorable together."

21: Do they have a honeymoon? Where to? How soon after?

Immediately after the wedding, Jay and Cassandra packed up for their honeymoon- Rio De Janeiro, just in time for Carnival.

#ask revan #oc shit #vexic :D

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secondhand-trash · 3 years

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Family Matters

Kinktober 2020 — stepcest

A/N: This idea had been sitting in my brain for months and getting to write it out AND be on time for the last day of kinktober is the perfect wrap up for this crazy month.

Description: You would do anything to get yourself a place in this family.

Pairing: Todoroki siblings (Touya, Fuyumi, Natsuo, Shouto)x reader

Warning: stepcest/pseudo-incest (absolutely do not proceed if this isn’t something you’re comfortable reading), no relationships portrayed in this fic is healthy, toxic family dynamics, reader is bit of a manipulative bitch, consensual but not exactly the traditional sense of consent, Rei died, brief mention of cheating, nee san/nii san kink, vaginal penetration, oral (giving), choking, face fucking, creampie, marking, voyeurism, threesome, spitting, degradation, thigh riding, fingering

Word count: 16025 (wtfwtfwtf-)

**please read the warnings through before clicking the read more, very important**

You attended your mother’s wedding with the sweetest smile you could manage and a painful ring in your ear the moment she said: “I do”.

It was a small ceremony with only close friends and family, which also meant that there was little to no one in the audience as your mother walked down the aisle to meet the man at the other end.

You would think that marrying the reigning no 1 pro-hero would finally bring your mother the fantasy of being part of a fortunate family she never got to have, but we couldn’t always get what we want, could we?

You and your mother were the family underdog, the number of your relatives you had met up with the last several years since your birth father passed away and left a huge loan on your back waiting to be cleared up could be counted with less than the fingers on one hand. The first time someone showed up at your doorsteps screaming murder was a blur to you. You were around 17 at the time, not young enough to forge ignorance to what was going on but not mature enough to push the foul words seeping into your ears away, all you could remember was the way your mother clutching you close to her chest like it wasn’t her that was sobbing until the banging at the door finally ceased.

You switched schools, having no way to afford the tuition of the one you were attending when your family was struggling to stay under a proper roof, essentially disappearing from the circle you used to exist within in a matter of days. Sometimes, you would feel the impulse to cackle at the thought that there was a time when you thought you were so brilliant and you had a whole life ahead. You got into the hero course of one of the best schools in the country, you were not the best but you did think there was something in you that people must not be willing to let go of this easily. You truly did think the world wouldn’t just let you sunk down like that, but it turned out that dropping out of the spotlight was enough for people to forget about you when there were hundreds and thousands of other equally brilliant people stepping under the public eye each day.

You realised at the point in your life that some days you were simply alone, and no one would help you without a good enough reason for them to do so, something that your mother seemed to have either genuinely or deliberately chose to ignore. She went from person to person, hoping that one of them would be the answer but it was a fruitless journey. When you needed someone, people would pick it up, and it was a dangerous thing to be the one that was in need and couldn’t get away. You had witnessed countless of arguments, a scary amount of things crashing and frantic sobbing late at night when the crying echoed in the darkness you tried to surround yourself with by burying your face deeper and deeper into your pillow like it blacking out could make things go away.

This went on for years, and at some point you chose to turn your head away from it like not going home meant you could run away from the broken family you were bound to. Until one day, your mother crashed into you with a suffocating hug the moment you stepped into those doors you had so dreaded returning to every day, her voice barely coherent as she choked her words out through broken sobs and hiccups.

“We’re free... we’re finally free!”

She said it with such relief that you couldn’t even process the emptiness in your heart when she held your face in her hands before pulling you close to her again.

You figured out from bits and pieces that she let slip through her giddy words that someone had paid up the rest of the loan and interests that was left, and from the way her voice got just a little louder when she talked about that someone and the flush on her face, you knew it wasn’t just some chivalrous stranger that stepped in during a time of need like she had wanted to mask it up to be.

You had never met Todoroki Enji until your mother announced at the dining table one night with an expression so sheepish and girly that she was to marry this man you had only ever heard the name of. But even with the lack of exchanges before you sat down opposite to him the first time when you accompanied her to discuss the details of the wedding, you would expect that someone of his status and respect would at least have someone other than his own kids at his wedding.

His kids. You knew things wouldn’t go as easily as your mother had made it out to be. She had acted like you were finally out of the hot waters and secured comfort for the rest of your life just because she married a wealthy man but you knew the moment you met the eyes of the four Todoroki children, sitting side by side in one straight row opposite to you, that it wasn’t just the man of the house that had a say in what would become of you.

Touya was the eldest and the least bothered to pretend like he was pleased about this arrangement. He was leaning back against the chair with one leg propped up when you walked in, his eyes scanning you from top to bottom in a scruntinising stare until he was given a hiss in warning from his sister, to which he replied with a snort and a very showing eye roll as you sat down. There was no hiding the sneer in his voice whenever he spoke up, each word lacing with an evidential edge and the clear distaste he was showing towards his new stepfamily. The way he looked down at you when he bumped against your shoulder before walking out the door was nearly uncomfortable, but he seemed to be somewhat pleased when you didn’t shy away from his gaze, walking out with his hands in his pockets and a smirk toying against his features as his father sighed.

The sister, Fuyumi, had apologised when Touya offhandedly pointed out that his father didn’t even wait until his mother’s corpse was cold before finding another woman. Her smile was empathetic and the way she carefully picked up your hand when she greeted you should have been enough to make up for the hostility her brother had showcased but if you had paid attention enough, you would pick up that despite the apology, she didn’t exactly disagree with the statement either. She was always friendly, her eyes curling into two thin strands behind her glasses as she walked you through each step of the ceremony without a chance for you to interrupt. She was nice enough, but also just enough and the distance she kept from you was something that you picked up on in your initial encounter. It was also through her that you found out what happened to Enji’s last wife, and the practiced look on Fuyumi’s face when she recalled how her mother died after a long battle against her illness sent chills creeping up your back far more than any mean remarks could.

Which explained why the wedding venue looked eerily empty as the march played. After all, what would the world say about how little it took for the man to step out of mourning for his dead wife and found himself another one?

Todoroki Natsuo gave you nothing but a hasty nod when you sat down opposite to him, staying quiet for the most parts of the meeting except for a short word of reply here and there when Fuyumi cued him. He had his arms crossed in front of his broad chest all during the process, his eyes looking down at the document but clearly not focused on any of the things that his sister was explaining. There were a few times when you caught him glancing at you for the brief moment when you looked up, flicking his gaze away from you almost immediately with your eyes barely meeting. Of the four siblings, he seemed the most... normal, if you would. The way he acted almost a bit awkward around the new sister that he suddenly had around when he was well into his twenties and gave nothing but bare minimal answers whenever you even tried to initiate a conversation was what you thought would happen.

Then there was Shouto. Oh, sweet Shouto. You had never expected that this was the way you met your formal underclassmen once again after you dropped off of your road in being a hero completely without so much as a proper announcement. There was no mistaking the way his eyes widened and shoulders tensed up when you walked into the room that he remembered you well which came as quite the surprise to you. You had heard of him even after leaving Yuuei, of course. A real star, so talented and came from such a background, already climbing up near the top even though it had only been a good year since his real debut into the professional world. You simply found the boy one year your junior endearing when you were still his senpai, the way he was so serious about every little tease and remark you made could only be described as adorable.

But certainly, he had changed so much since you last saw him years ago. His back just a little wider, his jaw stronger, the look in his eyes did not belong to the same boy who did not shy away from staring when you walked past but of a man who had seen his handful of the world to know what you being there meant. You had a strong feeling that he would have acted way more hostile than he did have you been anyone else, his lips pursing tightly together like he was forcing himself to hold back as he stared straight at you.

All in all, sneers or polite chuckles or skittering glances or straightened backs, it did not take much to know that none of them was particularly pleased about their father’s remarriage and if the empty wedding was any sign, you and your mother were still utterly outsiders despite the documents with your changed names claiming otherwise.

The tall wall they had built was all the more apparent when you moved into the Todoroki residence, feeling more like you were mouse scrambling to find a gap you could hide into under this roof that had taken you in than anything else. If the four had gave your mother a cold shoulder or straight up pretend like she wasn’t there, then each and every single little gesture they made towards you reminded you time and time again that you did not belong.

Touya always bumped against your side just a little bit too hard for it to be an accident when he walked past you into the dining room, the “apology” he threw down sounding almost like a cackle as you were nearly knocked off your feet. Fuyumi always bringing up childhood memories or family traditions that you wouldn’t know of, only to brush it off with a smile and explaining it to you like she was the silly one for assuming that you would know about these things when you “only just moved in”. Natsuo was rarely around due to his job at the hospital as a whole, but when he did he made sure that his interactions with you remained to be limited to standard small talk. Each mundane topic always ending on a dead end and both of you looking away. Shoto was decent to you, but there was still an evidential wariness in his gaze as he walked past you and somehow it was the deliberate distance from him that acted like a stake right through your heart, a constant reminder that you took up a space that was never yours to begin with.

There was hurt, but then it was the unwavering fear of being isolated that sent chills down your spine at the cold stare from your supposed family.

Your mother was convinced that she unlocked the key to a life of security by marrying Todoroki Enji, but you knew better than to be fooled by the current state of you getting a pass because of the one mountain this shaking wall called family was leaning against.

Once he was out of the picture, it was his four children that would get to have a say on what they were to do with you, and you swore you could already see how that would go for you.

You were not going back to that low point in your life, not ever again, and you would do anything to make sure you secured a place for yourself within the family one way or another.

Jerking up awake at night in cold sweat was not fun, especially when it still took your brain a good few moments before registering where you were when your eyes shot open to see the high ceiling that you still hadn’t gotten used to yet.

You wonder if you would ever get used to it.

You groaned inwardly as you rolled to your side, wincing at how tight your throat felt at each swallow of the burning liquid that pooled in your mouth. You dreamt of your old life again, one when you still hadn’t gone to living under someone else’s roof. You had thought that you were over it by now but the hollowness left in your chest somehow irritated you even more than the dream itself.

Fucking hell, it felt like every muscle in your back was hurting.

Slowly stretching your limbs out, you held your head in your palm as you suffered through the dizziness in your head when you sat upright at the edge of your bed. A string of shivers crept up your spine when your toe touched the cold floor, the tatami rough under the tip as you fumbled to find your room slippers. It took some adjusting for you to find your way out of the pitch black room, trying your hardest to slide the door open as lightly as you could as you clutched your arms closed to your body under the chill on your exposed arms.

The house was in radio silence and you were cautious of the drag of your slippers as you made way down to the kitchen, careful to lower the volume of your steps with your feet arched and holding the slipper tight to the heel.

You let out a shaky breath when you finally got downstairs. Your hand felt around the side of the door to find the switch, pressing your eyes tightly together as the light pained you the moment you flicked the switch and light blazed in the kitchen.

The clink of the ceramic made you feel alive again as the water ran down your throat, the cold soothing the tautness at the back as you gulped down. A content sigh slipped out of your lips as you put the mug down, a droplet threatening to roll down your chin and you brought the tip of your finger up to wipe it away.

“Look what we have here...”

You jumped at the sudden voice, earning you a wolfish chuckle from the man who was leaning against the door frame. Touya looked a lot more at ease than he usually was when he was around his family, the sweatpants that were almost a bit too big for his lean frame hanging loosely around his waist as his back arched, pushing himself off the wooden frame before sauntering to your side.

You straightened your back, feeling tensed as he seemingly ignored your presence as he got his own cup and poured it full of water with his other hand on his waist. You weren’t sure if you were supposed to look as he tilted the cup up, his slender neck arching back as his throat bobbed, the muscles at his stomach flexing with each swallow.

Your fingers clutched tightly around the mug you were holding when he let out a muffled cough, piercing up at you from the back of his hand when he saw that you were not moving away.

You were taken aback when he snorted, throwing his head back a little before fixing his gaze on you again with an amused smirk lingering his pierced lips.

“Oh, relax,” your eyebrows locked together at the dismissive huff from your usually sneering stepbrother, “it’s too early for me to start making your life miserable, save the defense for after 8.”

His stare was almost invasive as he grinned at you but despite the twist in your stomach at being alone with arguably the most unbearable of the siblings, you did not move your own eyes away as you put down the cup in your hand. “So you do it on purpose,” you said, trying to make yourself sound sterner as you crossed your arms in front of your chest.

You did not think anyone else other than you would be up at this hour, or else you would have grabbed a jacket before slipping out of your room. If his gaze was already uncomfortable to be under, than the fact that your body was covered by nothing but a thin spaghetti strap and cotton shorts did not help how exposed you feel.

Touya laughed and it took all the will in you to not shrink your form down even more at the cackle. “Why else would I bother?” he said matter-of-factly, "Someone has got to tell the old man that none of us is happy with what he did.” He paused, “It isn’t really about you, if that’s something you want to hear.”

“I’m not interested in your family drama.”

“Well, too bad you’re part of the family now,” he mused, his eyes still following you as he slowly strided towards the door. “Remember to look just as pissed as you are now when I poke fun at you in the morning.”

The swaying of his frame stopped when you opened your mouth.

“What do I have to do for you to leave me alone?”

Your heart was pounding in your chest when he stopped in his tracks before slowly, very slowly turning around to face you again.

“Leave you alone?” he repeated, accentuating each syllable that rolled off his tongue as he stepped closer and closer to you.

“I’m just trying to get by,” you looked straight at him when he stopped right in front of you, towering over you slightly as he stared down, “if you want to stir shit up then I can help as long as you leave me a piece of what’s left.”

“Hm... a fighter, aren’t you?” his voice came out as a purr, the rumbling in his chest almost transferring to you with how close he was. His eyes raked across your form when he saw that you didn’t back away, the defined dent of your collar bone and the supple skin that was pressing against the elastic of your low collar.

He could allow a change of plans if it meant he could get a piece of a little something for himself.

“Then tell me,” he licked his lips, “what are you willing to do for my help?”

“Anything.”

The glint in his eyes grew at how you didn’t hesitate with your words.

“Anything?” he asked with a crock of his head to the side, his fingers barely trailing along your bare arms as he drank in the way you were fighting against the shivers rising on your skin, “because I can think of a few ways for cute little sisters to get on their big brother’s good graces..."

His touch on your arm was distracting but your mouth still ran dry at the implication of his offer. You could not deny that when you lie awake on your bed, staring at the ceiling and thinking of how you could possibly slither your way through in this house that you had briefly contemplated if you could get intimate with your siblings in a less morally-accepted way but you brushed it off as a silly thought almost as quick as you came up with it when you felt how hostile they were towards you.

You were convinced that they would not wait until Enji was gone to kick you out if you made a move on them, but the fixed stare and gravel in Touya’s voice was telling you a whole other truth.

The chills on your spine settled into the pit of your stomach as excitement when you made the realisation that he wanted you, and it meant the others could too.

His grin looked like it was spilling his face in half when you pushed yourself against his chest, your thinly clad breast pressed up against his bare skin when the light touch on your arms turned into full blown caresses as his hand got bolder. He could feel the slight pebble of your nipples taunt against the fabric and the thrill sent his blood boiling.

“Anything.”

His palm was burning against your skin as he got rougher and rougher, the press of his fingers turning into gropes when he reached the swell of your waist and down to your hips. The sudden dug of his nails into your flesh took you by surprise when he shoved you away from him, smiling from ear to ear like the chesire cat when he hooked his hand at the elastic of his sweats where a print was starting to strain against the fabric.

“Then get on your knees, baby sister.”

The tiles were not forgiving on your skin when you sunk down, looking up at the man who was palming himself from under his pants with his eyes slanted and fixed on your kneeling form. You winced when he fisted your hair in his hand, pulling your head back a bit too forcefully when he pulled his half-hard cock out of its constraints. The pain on your scalp seeped through your head until it was nothing but a tingle on your skin when his slender fingers wrapped around the base of his length that was right at your eye level, drinking in the way you could only stare at him from behind your lashes as he held you still.

He hummed in approval when you parted your lips, your tongue lolling out almost performatively when he gave a firm tuck to his cock. The silver bud at the crown of his cock left a strange numbness on your lips as he traced his tip along the rim of your mouth, leaving a slight sting on your tongue when he brushed against the muscle.

“Make sure to get all of it...” he whispered, releasing the tension of his pull on your scalp when he pushed his cock in with a languish surge of his hips. You bit back a whine when you felt the many more piercings at the underside as it brushed against your tongue, your hands flying up to grip at his thighs when he gave a slight pat to the back of your head.

He groaned when you took more of him in, hollowing your cheeks out as you set a pace for the bobbing of your head. The piercings were rigid against your tongue and you made sure to give each nub equal attention while your hand fisted around where you could not fit into your mouth. He kept one hand in your hair while the other found support on the kitchen counter, eyeing the way your lips wrapped around his cock as you tried to please him.

His head tilted back with a sigh when you cupped his balls, your palm warm on his sack when you sucked in a deep breath and sunk in all the way. Tears prickled at the corner of your eyes when his hard tip hit the back of your throat, the burn shooting up to your nose as its tip brushed against his pubic hair. Touya felt the pulse at the side of his neck as your throat contracted around him, the tightness making his hand clutch at the back of your head as his length throbbed in your mouth. He snapped down to look at you when you pulled away with a cough, sucking in a deep breath as your chest heaved and your hand pumped his cock sloppily with your spit that was coating him.

You could sense his muscles taut under his skin as you let him go, his thighs flexing under your hands while you jerked him off like he was holding himself back deliberately.

To have someone that was just mocking you earlier today now stiff in your hand, lips parted and biting back a moan felt really, really good.

You were staring up at him, almost in challenge as you run your tongue along his shaft. “Someone’s good at this,” he cooed, sounding a little breathless when he laughed. The sound was replaced by a chocked moan when you took him in again, a soft hum from the back of your throat in reply had him nearly losing control when the vibration sent shocks down his core.

You gagged when he pulled you off his cock, the string of saliva that connected your lips and his leaking tip sending him into an overdrive as he decided that he could not wait any longer. A yelp was ripped from the back of your throat when he pulled you up, shoving you against the counter with your face facing down.

Your hand fumbled to prop your body up with your palms flat on the marble surface, a silent whimper leaking pass your lips when you felt your shorts and underwear being peeled off of you with a swift pull. He pressed on your back with the tips of his fingers, each knuckle of his digits propping up as he arched your ass up with the help of his hand. Your face heated up at the way you perched up, bare cunt exposed for him to see as you clenched around nothing in reflex with the cold air that fanned against your folds.

Your body shifted with each exhale, the warm breaths spreading over your face as your cheek squished against the marble that was growing hotter and hotter from the heat on your face. Touya gripped onto the side of your hips, fingers digging into the flesh as he pulled the cheeks apart, licking his lips at the sight of the light sheen on your slit.

You whimpered when he ran a finger along your folds and the uncontrollable gush of wetness as the calloused pad pressed down on your hooded clit. His eyes were fixed on your cunt and how you immediately pushed your hips back for more friction when he positioned his tip at your opening, rubbing the bead of pre along the slit as your folds parted around him.

“Who knew our new sister is such a whore...”

His hand was fast to clasp around your mouth when he sheathed in you without a warning, the stretch leaving a burn in your core and threatening to make the cry slip past your lips when he held himself still. His cock was hot inside your walls, like he was melting in with your guts until all that was left of you was a puddle.

You moaned into his palm when he started thrusting up. His hand might be able to muffle the lewd noises you made but there was no way to hide the sounds of skin slapping against skin that bounced off the walls. The position you were in made each slam of his pelvis against your ass hilting his cock deep in you until you could feel him leaving a print in your womb, the piercings adorning his length dredging along your insides with each snap of his hips. The nubs rubbing against you made your back arched and your knees weakened, leaving a permanent feeling in you even as he bottomed out.

“To- Touya!”

His hand ran down your neck at the panting call of his name, fumbling with the elastic of your top before yanking it down and spilling your tits. You turned your head back with a struggle, his hand that was groping your chest pulling you up against his back until he could meet your lips in a sloppy kiss.

“Nu-uh, that’s not how you should call me,” he growled into your mouth, a mean-spirited pinch at your nipple had you squeaking against his hot touch.

“Touya nii-”

The mewl earned you a forceful plow of his length in you, the coil in you tightening when he drilled into you at a much more vicious speed.

“That’s a good little sister...” he mumbled in your ear, his hand now right below your chest while the other held tightly onto your ass. You threw your head back, pushing yourself deeper on his cock as he grunted, pulsing in you as he fug his nails into your skin.

Your lips fell open but nothing came out when he wrapped his free hand around your exposed throat, pressing down just enough for you to feel a rush of adrenaline pumping through your veins into your head when he hilted in you one more time before shooting ropes of his release deep into your core. His breath was shaky and warm at your earlobe as he cum in you, his load filling you up as he squeezed down on your neck to rip a breathless gag from you.

You could feel his cock going limp inside of you while he held you still, his cum threatening to leak out of your fluttering folds but was stopped by his cock still pressing snugly against your sex. You could smell the sweat on his body when he leaned down, heaving chest right at your back as he brought his hands up to cup your tits. His breath tickled against your skin, the piercing at the corner of his lip brushing at the sensitive area as he spoke lowly and slowly.

“Let’s have a lot of fun helping each other.”

Touya was always the latest to show up for breakfast each morning and this morning was no exception, but the entire table fell into deadly silence when he looked at you first before he did everyone else as he slammed himself down on his chair.

“Good morning, sis.”

The silence was almost uncomfortable and the sickly sweet tone of his voice echoed in the room before vanishing into thin air. You were facing him directly but your eyes did a brief glance around the room. Your mother and Enji were dumbfounded, Natsuo had his mouth agape, Shouto’s eyes were as big as the moon and Fuyumi’s eyebrows locked together slowly but visibly.

A lot of fun indeed.

You smiled, and the crisp ring of your voice shocked everyone when you parted your lips.

“Good morning, nii san.”

The mutually beneficial relationship with Touya continued. Some nights, you would feel a slight brush against your calf under the dining table and you knew he was to pay you a visit. He slipped into your room when everyone else was asleep, jackhammered you onto the mattress and make you scream into your pillow before whispering things about the family that you would otherwise never know of against your lips as his cum spilled out of your abused hole.

He was rough with his hands, especially when he was taking out his frustration on you, but there was no denying that the fucking was good and the information was valuable. He told you about how he had three siblings instead of being an only child because he was a disappointment and why his mother was sent away. The snort he let out was chilling as he told you how his sister was desperately holding the family together through the years and that the second son of the Todoroki family could be worse than him in terms of temper once the right buttons were pushed.

And they knew, they had to know or had made a guess at the very least, because there’s no other way you could explain why there were bruises littering all across your inner thighs when the skin just showing below the edge of your shorts was clean the night before. Occasionally, you would catch the boys staring at the barely visible mark right at your collar at the table, Natsuo a little bit more subtle with his eyes flickering away the moment you looked up and Shoto not hiding the fact that he was looking as he pressed his eyebrows together. Fuyumi was a whole lot more nonchalant about it, either she really didn’t know or she was very good at staying away from things that weren’t her business. Your guess leaned towards the latter.

You were waiting to see which one of them would finally let their concern snap first and approach you about it, and it seemed like what Touya told you about his siblings was rather accurate when you were left along the house with your second stepbrother one weekday afternoon.

You were rarely left alone at the house with any of your step siblings, much less Natsuo. Doctor Todoroki was always the first one out the door and the last one to come back each day, slipping into his room by the time he got back in the early mornings from the hospital and not appearing until he had to go back again.

Today was a bit different. Today, Todoroki Natsuo got to sleep past his alarm and sat in the living room as the sun shined through the window while the rest of his family was out doing their own thing. Except you, who coincidentally had nowhere to do during his precious day off and was staring absentmindedly at the tv while he tried to not pay too much attention to the limp in your walk and the hickey that was very much so not hidden by your loose shirt.

Natsuo gulped down the words that were stuck at the back of his throat, feeling his tongue laying flatly against his mouth as he felt the air around him thicken.

No one had said anything about the clear elephant in the room when the rest of the family was around. His father and your mother were clearly oblivious, but he was sure the same question definitely appeared in his siblings’ heads. It frustrated him that Fuyumi only brushed it off as him being overly suspicious when he tried to hint that something but be going on between the new stepsister and the oldest Todoroki, even more so when Shouto was straight up in denial about how obvious it was.

If anything, he was more concerned than anything else. He was sure Touya couldn’t be the nicest man to be involved with especially when he recalled all the malicious things his brother had said about how much he loathed the idea of a new stepsibling before his father got married.

“Did he hurt you?”

You froze in place at the abrupt question. Turning your head to the side, you saw Natsuo with his jaw clenched and lips pursed together at the other end of the coffee table. “He?”

“Touya,” he repeated, this time sounding a little firmer than before, “he is taking advantage of you, isn’t he?”

Oh.

You glanced to the side, lowering your head a little as you toyed with the hem of your shorts. A slight thrill welled up in your chest when you heard him scooching closer to where you sat at your timid posture. He looked so concerned, like he was truly believing that you were in a compromisable position that you couldn’t tell anyone about.

What a good man he was, Todoroki Natsuo, you almost feel bad for pretending to hesitate before you slowly hook your finger under your shirt and lifted it over your head.

Natsuo’s breath hitched when he saw the bruises that covered your chest in the areas that weren’t covered by your bra. Bite marks darted along your skin, the subtle scars in the shape of finer prints burnt into the side of your waist. Touya got into a particularly fiery argument with Enji last night, and the aftermath was what Natsuo was now seeing as you stripped of your top in front of him. You had winced when you woke up that morning to see how fucked up you looked, fully planning to get Touya back for bruising you up this badly next time he touched you but you didn’t expect that his lost of control would be of use later on.

You looked battered, and you didn’t miss the gasp that left his lips as you folded your arms in front of your chest to make yourself smaller, pressing the marked skin of your chest together and pushing your cleavage out in the process.

“He’s so rough with me, Natsu nii...”

You sounded like you wanted to cry as you shy away from him, and his heart broke when you flinched away from his touch as he gently held onto your forearm.

You were so delicate and fragile, how could anyone treat you as horribly as this?

He let out a shaky breath when you latched onto his broad chest the moment he pulled you onto his lap. “Poor baby...” he whispered against your skin as he dipped his head down caging over you as he gingerly pulled your folded arms away. His throat bobbed at the sight of your curves and the many bruises dotting on your supple skin. You whimpered when he planted a soft peck on your neck, tilting your head back to allow him more access as his hand fumbled with the hook of your bra.

You whimpered when he took it off of you, the strap sliding off your arms until it was thrown to the side. He could see all the marks and scars on your skin much more clearly now and it only fueled his urge to touch you all over and make sure he drowned you in affection even more.

You whimpered when he rubbed circles against the side of your hips, his lips pressing against a particularly gruesome bruise below your collar bone.

“Natsu nii-

“Shh... it’s ok,” he hushed you with a peck on your pouting lips, pulling at your bottom lip softly when he pulled away, “nii chan will take care of you.”

His hand was cautious as he caressed your skin, soft lips trailing down your neck and darting his tongue out to swipe across each bruise and mark along the way. The brush of the tip tickled, leaving a spark of numbing tingles down your spine as his miniatures took over your head. Natsuo took his time, reducing you into mush with each press of his thumb at the side of your thighs and nibble of his teeth. A breathy moan slipped past your lips when he traced your pebbled nipple with his tongue, the air fanning against your skin making you all the more sensitive as he rolled the perked bud between his fingers. He treaded against the clouds of purple at the underside of your chest lightly, placing open kisses at each bruise like he was trying to erase the trails of what his brother had left on you.

Your hands held onto his shoulders when he buried his face in your chest, cupping the soft mounds in his palm as he licked each swell and dent on your torso. You whimpered as his large hands slipped past the elastic of your shorts, groping your ass as he lifted you off his lap just enough to pull the article off of your limbs. You felt a strange bashfulness when he eyed your naked form, almost looking like he was in awe when he slid his arms around your waist.

Perhaps you were getting too into the mindset of a sweet baby sister wanting their brother’s attention that your body was starting to adopt the role a little bit too well.

“Lay down.”

His hand supported you at the small of your back, his much larger frame shadowing over you almost immediately at you touched the cold surface of the floor. The textured front of the tatami rubbed against your skin as he planted a firm kiss on your lips and you hissed into his mouth when the scratches down your back from last night by one very impatient Touya burned on your senses.

Natsuo noticed your discomfort, cooing into your lips as his tongue slipped past your teeth and explored the warm cavity greedily. Your eyes were glassy when he pulled away, looking like a veil had draped over your vision hastily as you stared at him blankly and your lips parted.

If he thought the marks on your upper body was bad, then seeing your naked form proved that he had severely underestimated what you had gone through before he took notice. You looked dazed as he perched on top of you, his eyes raking all over your body as he took count of the many bite marks and bruises that dipped down the v that led to your sex and your thighs that were pressed together tightly. There were clear marks of fingerprints littered over the plump flesh of your legs, evidential of how exactly did Touya take you last night.

You shuddered underneath Natsuo when he gripped onto your knees and parted your legs, arching your back off the ground and looking to the side to hide your face when he stared straight at your bare cunt. Your folds clenched with each heave of your chest, looking all the more inviting with the sheer shine that coated your core from his earlier touches. But he found himself immediately noticing the faded marks at the back of your thighs where they were connected to your hips, the prints permanent on your skin and whispering to him exactly what you had been doing with his brother when no one was around.

The image of Touya digging his fingers into your thighs as he folded your legs up despite your whines burned into his head, his vision growing redder and redder at the thought of your tight hole being railed so hard you tear up in pleas but to no avail.

He was supposed to be the nice brother, the gentle one who kiss you all over and holds you in the center of his palm before putting you back into one piece after the other had shattered you, but all he could think of was how much he wanted to replace the same tears with his own marks right now when he was looking right at the tiny body that his brother had messed with.

“Natsuo...? Ah-” you squeaked when his previously soft hold was replaced with a sudden squeeze at your inner thigh, your limbs being manhandled into a position that was challenging your flexibility. You could not help but throw your head back when he pushed your legs all the way up until they were hooked over his shoulders, the back of your knees almost touching your chest when he leaned down once again.

His tongue tangling with yours distracted you from the sounds of belt buckles rattling for a second, until the feeling of something prodding at your entrance brought your eyes snapping open.

“Don’t worry about a thing...” he muttered against your lips as he dragged his leaking tip along your folds, his hand pulling the hood of your clit back and rubbing at the sensitive nub to ease more of your wetness out until his cock threatened to glide past your fluttering folds with the lubrication. His eyes were fixed on your face, but your reflection appearing on his blown out eyes seemed almost empty as he talked but more like to himself than to you.

His length felt heavy as the tip pushed past the muscle of your walls, earning him a breathless sigh from you as you took his hot inch bit by bit until it settled at the pit of your stomach. You could feel every part of his pressing against you in this position, your core flexing to accommodate his girth but still felt a white burn at the back of your head when he rolled his hips before slamming down again.

He was much... thicker than Touya, and the vein that was throbbing at the side of his shaft left a phantoming feeling in your walls with every thrust. His face was buried at the crook of your neck, each grunt and pant warm on your skin and seeping into your core as vibrations from his chest. There was no space between your bodies as he drilled into you, his plows short and rapid like he did not even want to have a second of his body not touching yours.

Your voice sounded foreign to your ears as you gripped onto his hair for leverage, the broken notes of each mewl and the pathetic cries making you feel possessed as your knees shook with each hilt of his tip in that spongey spot deep inside of you.

“Na- Natsuo nii...”

He groaned at the sweet moans of his name rolling off your tongue, his hand running up and down at the back of your thigh in encouragement when you clamped down strongly around him with each slap of his balls against your ass.

“Fuck-” he gritted in your ear, his thrusts growing sloppy as you tried to lift your hips up to meet him and pushing his cock deeper into you, “you’re so pretty like this... so pretty taking your nii chan’s cock-”

You whined at the compliment, even though the reaction felt so off for the mindset you went into this with. There was something about how differently demanding he was when he was fucking into your tight cunt, the way he wanted to drink in all of your attention and send you into a spiral making thrills boil up in the waves of pleasure that crashed onto you.

He thought he was the one with the power, but we all take what we need from who we want it from.

“Cum around me- that’s it... that’s it...”

He let out a choked moan as your walls spasmed around his aching cock, his hands holding your legs firmly as he held himself still with his hips pressed up snugly against your hips. Your head fell back as your lips parted when you felt the warmth of each spurt of his cum painting your insides, each pulse and throb of his length printing against your walls. A soft whimper was pulled from the back of your throat when he pulled out, the last few drops of his load darting across your lower stomach as he remained his hold on your legs. Natsuo felt breathless at the beads of white that was seeping past your slit, his hands moving before he could think to push the leaking substance back into your hole despite the weak moans you made as you shook under his touch.

Natsuo pressed his palm flat against your sex like he was blocking the mixture of your arousal and his released from slipping out when he brought his hand under your arm. You couldn’t do anything but laid soundly in his arms when he lifted you up, your legs felt like jelly as he held you close to his chest.

“Get some rest, baby, I’ll tuck you in after cleaning you up...”

The arrangement continued, but this time with one more man into the mix.

Every night after Touya arrange your guts, Natsuo would put you back together with languish thrusts and not an inch of your skin untouched the next day. Where the eldest burned, the other would soothe over with icy breaths and gentle coos. All Natsu nii asked for return was the loving stare you gave him from behind your fluttering lashes and sheepish nods when he asked you if you feel good from your nii chan’s touch.

What you nearly forgot about, however, was that every night there was another Todoroki you had pushed to the back of your head just a wall next to you while you were getting your brains fucked out.

Todoroki Shouto was probably the most conflicted of the bunch when you walked into the meeting room for the first time. If anyone had asked, he would not deny that back when you were still his upperclassman by a year, before you suddenly dropped off his horizons one day out of nowhere, he was head over heels smitten with you. He was not the only one, if the way you surround yourself with others that gave a sickly sweet grin as they came up to you was any sign, but he liked to believe that he was the only one that really caught your eye. How could you not? If anything, it sufficiently flattered you that someone like Todoroki Shouto would eye you like a dumbfounded puppy when you came down to his year. You made sure to be extra nice to him too, smiling widely and laughing louder than you did for anyone else when he replied to each of your teasing questions with a degree of seriousness that you could not help but found yourself cooing at.

(You never liked him the way he hoped you had, not that he would know or you would ever hint at it. It was just fun for you to have his attention and you would be the first one to say that you could not be blamed. Anyone else would have said the same thing had they been in your place.)

By the spring he was about to move into your second year, you were gone. He had tried to ask around about your whereabouts but no one could give an answer. There were rumours, but all of them were so drastically different that it was near impossible to narrow down the possibilities. And so his innocent, bittersweet school crush was shattered into dust without even a proper heartbreak or revelation.

Now imagine how he felt when he saw his dead crush appearing in front of him years after he last saw them, now as his new stepsister that he never asked for.

You seemed to have latched onto him at first, striking up a conversation with him when everyone else made it clear that you were not welcomed. He felt an overbearing weight in his chest every time you flashed him a wide smile that was so nostalgic but also felt oddly different, like it was you had the same shell as before but the contents in it were missing. He told himself again and again that he had been over you for years now, but the pounding in his chest whenever you laughed around him was a brutal reminder that this could be the chance for him to finally get his hands on what was never his.

The thoughts that clouded his head when he thought of how you were just a room away from him at night was terrifying, and he wasn’t sure what to do with the realisation that there was something as ugly as that stirring deep in his mind. So he took the complete opposite approach to what his yearning was whispering at the back of his head and stayed away from you as far as possible, even when the center of his palms felt like they were about to start seeping blood at how deep his nails dug in at the sight of his brothers getting friendlier and friendlier with you.

Then one day, at the unholy hour when he had to lower each step he took striding back to his room after a late patrol, he heard a soft noise coming from the back of your door that could not be anything other than a moan.

He froze, his eyes widening as he questioned his own hearing when the same sweet sound rang again. It was subtle and he would not have caught on unless he was expecting it, but it sounded almost mocking in his ear as his leg moved on their own until his ear was pressing right at the wooden board that blocked him from seeing what you were doing inside that drew those tempting notes out of your lips.

This was wrong, he swallowed the bitterness in his mouth as the stir in his stomach sunk in, very wrong, but he could not stop himself from wondering how good you must be looking at that moment with your legs parted and fingers pumping in your cunt, your back arching as you tried to bury your face in your pillow as you imagined that it was someone else touching you.

The wire in his head snapped into half when he heard a voice so familiar but yet so strange that mixed into the incoherent string of lewd noises.

“Stay quiet, or do you want people to hear how much of a whore you are?”

His head went blank, and then he turned almost robotically stiff towards his own room when he finally connected the dots of what was going on.

He did not look any bit suspicious when you greeted him the next morning, but he swore he was seeing white when he spotted the way Touya’s hand lingered at your forearm just too long for it to be friendly when he was asking you to pass him the milk.

It got incredibly hard for him to ignore everything that was going on once he found out what happened every night when the house was supposed to be asleep. It was Touya most of the time, but occasionally he would hear the muffled voice of his other brother seeping into his ears through the thin walls too. He should not have listened, especially with how clearly he knew the burn in his chest was a result of anger. How could they just fuck around with you like this when he was there, suffering because you were so close but he could not reach out?

Yet when his hand ghosted over the bulge in his pants as he listened to the broken cries of someone else’s name from the back of your throat, it was jealousy that made him tug at his length almost violently as the squelching and panting died down until there was nothing left but the stickiness lacing his fingers as an evidence of what happened.

He listened with intent, wondering if you would eventually come onto him too. He heard the way you call his brothers’ “nii san” and found it harder and harder for him to even look at you straight without imagining the way you would look coming undone underneath him when he heard the same words dripping off your tongue in a seemingly innocent manner in the day.

But you never did, and he was starting to lose patience from waiting.

Why his brothers but not him when he was the one that had wanted you for so long? What was it that his nee san never wanted to fall into his bed when you so gladly let other men crash into yours?

You did not hear the door creaked open as you laid with your stomach on the bed, your legs arching from the knees onwards as you lounge around with a book in hand. You jumped with a gasp when you saw Shoto standing at the side of your bed, putting your book down carefully with the page you stopped at facing down as you looked up.

“Why are you here, Shouto kun?”

You called him “Shouto kun” when it was “nii chan” for Touya and Natsuo.

He furrowed his eyebrows at how clueless you looked as you stared at him. Your chest were pushed together against the mattress as you rolled to your side, the exposed skin of your legs ticking him off as a reminder of how different you sounded from when he eavesdropped at your little rendezvous every night.

He took your by surprise when he leaped onto the bed, his knees causing a dent at each side of your body when you could not react except allowing your mouth to fall apart at his sudden and strange behaviour.

“Shouto! What are you- mhp-”

You were taken back by the force at which he crashed down on you. You could not process what was going on until the feeling of his burning lips kissing and nibbling at your own settle in as a numbing pain, his tongue forcing it’s way past your teeth as he trapped you underneath his frame.

You took a hasty breath when he pulled away, his eyes staring you down like he was waiting for a reaction as you looked at him with wide eyes.

“Do you not like it when I kiss you, nee san?”

All the words got caught at the back of your throat when his voice rang in your ear, almost eerily calm considering how his teeth were just clashing against yours moments ago. You did not put as much thought into buying your way into Shouto’s side as much as you did the rest of the family, knowing that no matter how small, there had got to be a certain place for you in his heart from the melancholy of an old crush somewhere.

“Even though you like it when it was Touya nii and Natsu nii touching you?”

But now he was on top of you, his eyes quirking up as his hand gripped onto the sheets at the side of your head, his lips almost like he was pouting as he trapped you there.

Nee san...

Right, how foolish of you to forget.

He was your brother too.

“Come here,” he leaned into your touch almost immediately when you reached out for him. His breath was shaky as you sat up, your lips ghosting against his before you whispered all while looking into his eyes. “let nee san show you how to do it...”

He did not react at first when you kissed him, your fingers threading into where the white met the red at the back of his head as you deepened the kiss. The little whimper he made when you moved his hand onto the side of your waist did something to you, and suddenly you wondered why you waited so long before doing this.

You chuckled into his mouth when he clumsily held onto your jaw, his tongue swiping at your bottom lip before slipping past. You made sure to moan almost a bit exaggeratedly when you felt his hand running up your abdomen and stopping at your tits, pressing down encouragingly when he fondled with the soft mound.

He got bolder and bolder as you replied to each miniature, the years of longing erupting in him as he gripped onto your thigh and hooked it at the side of his hip. You yelped at the sudden shake of your vision when he flipped you so that you were straddling his lap. You whimpered when you felt the hardness that was poking against you, his hand now sliding underneath your shirt to toy with your perked nipples as your hand planted firmly on hid toned stomach.

“I’ve wanted to touch you for so long...”

His breath was feverish on your skin when he peeled your shirt off, his lips latching onto your chest almost immediately once you were bare as his fingers dug deeper into your skin like he wanted to leave a bruise. You moaned when he flicked his tongue against the hard bud, licking and nibbling as he stared at your face while holding onto your ribcage.

“Wanted to kiss you for so long...”

You mewled when he bit down a little too hard on your collarbone, his tongue swiping across the dents of the mark as his hand continued to knead your soft flesh.

“Now you’re finally here- with me...”

A roll of his hips had his hard one pressing against your thinly covered pussy, the friction and the heat that was burning against you making you bit down on your lips to stop the moan from slipping past your lips. He gave a dissatisfied pinch to your breast when he saw the action, humming in content when the sudden shock of pain made you hiss.

“No, no, don’t hold it in,” his two toned eyes sent a chilling shiver down your spine as he glared at you in warning, one hand finding grip on the base of your thigh while the other slid into the band of your shorts before pulling it down the curve of your ass, “I want to hear every sound you makes while you get fuck by your little brother...”

His skin heated up when your face contorted together in pleasure when his hands gripped onto the cheeks of your ass and parted them roughly, the flesh jiggling when he released it from his hold with a pull.

“Hm!” you whimpered when he felt his palm rubbing at your folds, the tip of his fingers pressing down on your clit before he dragged each digit up along your slit to gather the wetness that was starting to form from his stimulation. Your lips fell apart when he slipped the first finger in, then added another, and the third. He watched in amazement at each pull of the muscle of your face as he stretched you out around his slender fingers, feeling your cunt sucking him in as he slowly pumped them in and out of your hole.

It was almost unreal, the person that had lingered in his dreams for years on end now naked in his lap and moaning because of his fingers scissoring inside of her. His cock felt painful straining against his pants when you rolled your hips back, impatient for how he moved agonisingly slow inside of you in order to draw out each reaction you gave him. His chest swelled at the sight of you slamming yourself down on his fingers as you laid on his body, your hands gripping at the cotton of his shirt all while arching your ass up so he could rub every inch of your walls.

“You look so pretty fucking yourself on my fingers, nee san...” Shouto whispered against your lips, his free hand bringing you close to him to kiss your quivering lips as he crocked his fingers inside of you and ripping a sharp mewl from the back of your throat.

“Sho- Shoto-” the syllables of his name chocked out of your tongue that felt heavy in your mouth, your knees that prop you up on his lap feeling weak as you alternated the speed at which you threw yourself back at him to chase the tightening of your core.

The drop yanked you back by the seams when you were greeted with a sudden emptiness as you were close to snapping, a squeak spilled out from the back of your throat when you clenched around nothing. Your instinct was to press your legs together to stop the running arousal from dripping down your thighs from the flex of your walls but Shouto held you still with his hands, the wetness that was coating his fingers smearing over your skin as he brushed against your thighs before bringing them to his face.

Your face was burning when he moved his digits apart, showing you the string of your essence that was sticking to his skin before he brought it to his lips. Your stomach flipped when he darted his tongue out, licking his fingers clean like a kitten as he groaned.

“You taste so sweet...” he pulled you close to him like he wanted to give you a taste of it too, the saltiness of yourself tickling your cavity as his words were muffled by his lips on you, “I would have gotten a taste for myself directly much earlier if I knew this is how you taste, but right now...”

He brought your hand to his bulge, the hardness filling under your palm as you cupped his erection. Your hand wrapped around the base of his girth the moment you pulled it out of the band of his sweats and it pressed against his lower stomach, the vein that climbed up the side pulsing under your touch as you ran your finger along his cock.

Your breath hitched at the back of your throat when he lifted you up, your cunt hovering above his tip as he muttered against your neck.

“I want to be in you, nee san.”

It took every fiber in your being to stop yourself from screaming out when he let go of you, slamming you down all the way until he was balls deep inside of you. He sighed at how warm you were all wrapped up around him, his arms snaking around your waist as he started bouncing you on his cock.

You scratched down on his chest through his shirt with each hilt of his length in you, your eyes pressing tightly into thin lines as you fought against the shocks that ran down your spine. He bit down on your skin in discontent, glaring at you like he was warning you to keep your focus on him as he railed in you.

It was fear that made your eyes snapped wide open when you heard a click of someone’s tongue from your back.

“Take this as a lesson to lock your door.”

Shouto’s nails on your skin felt like they could draw blood when he shot up to see the grinning face of his eldest brother, his blood curling when you clamped down around him at a moment of panic.

“Touya!"

He hated the way your eyes moved away from him onto the man leaning against the door, the name that wasn’t his sounding so breathless as it rolled off your tongue.

Touya had already gotten his fair share of your time, now he wanted to interrupt when it was finally his turn?

“Fuck off,” Shouto sneered but the other Todoroki only let out a dry chuckle at his defensive state as he walked towards where you were. His eyed you up and down, how tense you were as you froze under the intrusion evidential as the muscles of your legs pulled taut against your skin.

“Aw, don’t shut me out so quickly, I’m sure she doesn’t mind,” Touya mused, seeming to be egged on even more when he saw his brother tightening his hold on your hips when he shamelessly gripped himself on the crotch over his sweats. “You’re at it already,” you let out a soundless hiss when he pulled your head back just the way he liked it as he yanked his pants down, eyeing his little brother that was staring daggers at him out of the corner of his eyes as he pulled his cock out, “why not take another one?”

Almost like he was asserting his claim, Shouto snapped you out of your trance with a thrust up into your cunt. The sudden friction made your mouth fell apart as a moan was ripped from the back of your throat but it was quickly muffled into a gag when Touya took the chance to shove his cock in your mouth. He hardened and filled inside of you as he held your head still, pulling you to the side so that you were staring helplessly at the man who was slamming into you as he pushed his cock deep at the back of your throat with each surge of his hips.

This was nowhere near the same time Touya treated your mouth as nothing but another hole to fuck but the hilt of his tip at the back of your cavity still made your eyes tear up immediately as the burn settled into the pit of your stomach. Shouto did not give up easily, determined to make sure that his brother’s cock drilling in your mouth was not enough to divide your attention away from him as he threw you up and down on his length vigorously as the lewd squelches and slapping noises echoed off the walls.

Touya’s laugh came out like a howl when he felt the vibrations of your moans around his girth, loving the way you had drool leaking from the corner of your lips as he gripped your head with both hands and pivoted in you. He was laughing, but the stare he cast his brother was no less competitive than the younger boy who was clearly not happy about sharing.

The tension was thick in the air, like they were taking out whatever rivalry that had rooted between them out on you as they treated you like nothing but a toy that they could break if they fight over it hard enough. You had never seen Shouto this visibly angered before, his handsome face twisted together as the scowl tugging at his lips stayed permanent. Your muffled pants and gags as well as the sound of skin against skin was all that could be heard as the two men bared their teeth at each other, Touya in a menacing grin and Shouto like he was ready to tear the other’s smile off his face.

You felt like you were being pulled apart by the threads, with Touya pulling your hair until your scalp felt numb from the pain and Shouto digging his fingers in your ass a little bit too forcefully. The way Touya forced your face away was enough to get under his skin but Shouto could not look away as tears tainted your cheeks as his brother held you still at the base of his cock, your nose brushing against his pubic hair while your nostrails flared in a desperate attempt to breathe. Each thrust of his hips sent both cocks deeper inside you, the burn pulsing all through your body as your toes curled.

“Hnpm-”

“Go on,” Touya gave a tug at your scalp, pulling at the side of your eyes and forcing you to look right at Shouto, “stare into his eyes while you swallow my cum.”

And you did, the bitter and salty mixture pouring down your throat and almost scorching where it touched as you gulped down his load as he held you still, almost choking on your own spit as you stared at the younger boy from behind your glassy eyes. His pupils were blown out as he fixated on the sight of your throat bobbing and white leaking out of the corner of your lips which were wrapped around his brother’s cock, your jaw almost slack as Touya pulled out and pressed your jugulars tight to make sure you drank everything he had to give you.

You did not dare to move as Touya tucked his limp cock back into his pants, still smiling ear to ear before he turned around but not without throwing down another snarky remark.

“Treat her rougher,” his glance darted towards you for a second before looking back at his brother, “she likes it that way.”

The acidity welled up in your mouth as Shouto stayed put, the lack of even a sound or movement somehow stirring in your stomach until it was all tied up as a knot. Your skin felt clammy with your sweat when he shifted under you, his cock very much so still pressing hard against your gut as he moved and sending sparks all the way to the tip of your toes.

“Open your mouth."

His voice was scary calm as he commanded and you reacted before even processing his words. Shouto gripped onto your jaw, his teeth hurting from how hard he was clenching down as he looked at the trails of white along your chin and the residues of cum on your tongue.

You shivered when something cold landed in your open mouth, a silver string connected his lips and dripping down your tongue.

“Swallow.”

The last bit of cum mixed together with his spit slid down your throat as you felt small under his gaze. It was like a switch was flipped inside of him when he slammed you on the bed, him now taking full control as he perched on top of you much like when he initially came onto you tonight and thrusting up hard, fast, deep into your cunt.

Your mind was too muddled for you to think straight at the shocks of electricity spiking across your skin when the tip of his cock rubbed along your walls furiously, your pants and moans coming out as slurred strings of incomprehensible noises. He sounded animalistic as his teeth graced past your pulse point at the side of his neck, the muscles in his stomach tensing up both from getting close to his edge and the scene from earlier of you getting face fucked by his brother right in front of his eyes replaying in his head again and again.

“When I’m done,” you could barely make out what he said as you slammed your head back, “my cock will be all you can think of- all you need...”

You whined when his cock sheathed against the spongey spot right below your pelvis, a sharp cramp creeping onto your legs that were already close to giving in at the melting pleasure.

“I’ll fuck you again and again if that’s what it takes,” he grunted.

Again and again, until all the traces of other people’s hand tainting your skin was wiped off with his mark instead.

“Starting-” his shoulders shook as his hips surged forward, his cock throbbing in you as he dipped his head down, your legs threw weakly around his waist as you felt the heat from his chest blazing against your skin.

“Now.”

You arched yourself off the mattress at the feeling of his cum filling you up, his body stiff on top of you as he pumped his load in you. He gripped onto your knees almost immediately when you wanted to put your legs down, giving a few more thrust before finally pulling out of you but still not letting go.

He tried to go a few rounds more that night, but you managed to settle him at your side in your bed with a soft whine and your arms latching onto his waist tightly as you buried your face in his chest.

Shouto was the only person who had fallen asleep next to you of all the ones that had gotten into your bed at night, looking almost angelically serene as he drifted into slumber that you didn’t have the heart to wake him up even though the fear of someone catching him sneaking out at daybreak next morning scared you.

No one did, of course, and even if they do, they all did a very good job not saying a word about it.

Todoroki Fuyumi did nothing but furrow her eyebrows and sighed when she saw her own brother slipping out from your room at the crack of dawn, before going back to her normal day-to-day routine like she did not just witness the confirmation that she could no longer pretend she did not sense things stirring under the roof she called home as she did ever since you moved into the house.

If anyone asked, Fuyumi would be very honest with the fact that while less obvious about her dismay, she was about as keen on the prospect of a woman no one had met before marrying into the family and bringing an adult child with her as the rest of her siblings. The family was messed up enough as it was, no need to bring an outsider into the mix to further complicate the matter. There was also the convenient fact that the buffer period between her birth mother’s death and the announcement of the engagement was far too short for anyone’s comfort, and the speculation of an overlaps in the timeline where Enji started seeing his new wife while his now deceased wife was hanging onto the last breath of her life by a thread.

But she hid the urge to scrunch her face up the first time she met her new stepsister and stepmother and smiled, knowing full well that the others would take up the role of pushing you away until eventually you would have to break under their scrutinising gaze.

Fuyumi had always been the one trying to hold the family together, even if it meant turning a blind eye on the cracks that were starting to form.

The first siren call was when Touya came downstairs one morning acting like a completely different person around you then he was the night before. She felt her guts twisting together at how sickly sweet his voice was as he passed by you, his arms draping over your shoulder slightly before he slumped down on his own seat. Touya was supposed to be the one that was the least likely to wield out of the four, god knows how much of a tantrum he threw when he learnt of the engagement. Something must have happened over night for him to go from sneering at you to cooing at you in the matter of hours, and what the something might be was not a pleasant thing to guess around on.

Still, Fuyumi didn’t confront her brother on his strange antics. Even after she became rather certain on how accurate her guess was regarding your relationship as the bruises on your thigh and offhanded teases got more and more blatant each day. Touya had always been one to play around, she had sent many pretty young things off in the mornings when she came to the living room to find them sitting there with their clothes very wrinkled and legs very much so wobbling with each step.

He was probably doing it as a protest like most other things he had done and it would take no time for him to get bored of you.

But one morning turned into a week, and Todoroki Touya only seemed to grow closer and closer to you as each day passed.

Natsuo was much worse when it came to playing things off compared to his older brother and Fuyumi noticed almost immediately when he started getting involved with you too. It should not have come as a surprised, it certainly was not to her. Sentimentally, the two older Todoroki boys were often similar but expressing it in different ways. Fuyumi was aware of how a yearning for being needed was in place of his head where the desire for chaos was cemented in Touya’s.

It took her a while to see how tightly you had Natsuo wrapped around your fingers, how he very much so ignored the way you amped up your helplessness and dependence when he was around that seemed almost painfully blatant to her. But it didn’t unsettle her as much as it did when the dynamic between you and the siblings switched the first time. If anything, this was the more logical progression. Natsuo had always been the more passive one with his attitude towards you, and him shifting stances would not do much to the scene.

It got harder and harder to bite on her tongue and stay quiet ever since she caught Shouto walking out of your room. She was the most concerned about the youngest Todoroki and his almost dangerous affection towards you. She had connected the dots herself after some baiting fished out that you two were already acquainted before the untimely marriage. She saw the way Shouto watched you with so much fever in his eyes when the other two even inched close to you, the unhidden teeth marks on your arms and legs almost too deliberate for her to not think too much about it. It was the self-righteousness of finally getting something that was lost, and Fuyumi found this one particular budding flame to burn hotter and more destructive than the rest.

You were playing a very dangerous game here, and she was the only one that was left out of it until right now.

Right now, it was a heavy silence in the room at the far end of the house where no one would go to. Fuyumi was sitting right opposite you, both of your postures looking extremely formal with your feet tucked under your legs, hands planed flat on both thighs as you waited for her to say something.

You had a dreadful feeling you knew what this was about when she asked you to go with her for something important with a face so expressionless it scared you.

She had not said a word after she motioned you to sit down on the tatami, looking blankly at the empty floor in front of you like she was deep in thought. All you could hear was the pounding in your eardrum and the steady breaths the left your own nostrils, your hands wanting to claw at the fabric of your shorts to ease the shaking nerves but your head fighting it back with an unwillingness to look like you did not have the upper hand.

You did not, and you were genuinely horrid by the direct confrontation that you did not have to go through with the rest of the family.

“I know you’re sleeping with my brothers.”

Her voice came out like the notes of a lullaby, ghosting in the air but knocking you right in the lungs. She said it like it was nothing but a trivial fact, not a question but a statement that she knew you could not deny.

Fuyumi looked right at you now, like she could see right through your soul and all the gears running in your head as they spun like mad while thoughts trampled your head. Her eyes were clear, so clear behind the frame of her glasses and at the moment you knew she did not leave room for you to lie or try to get your way out of it.

"I am,” you replied.

It felt almost cathartic to say out loud. There was no need for you to pretend or lie or appease towards someone who already had your game figured out, and there was something about being on the same page that anchored you on your footing.

“Why?”

Yes, why?

“I need to find my place in this house,” you answered, feeling your mind go blank as you reached to the pit of your core and dragged out the words you were searching for, “and they wanted me.”

They wanted you.

You gave them what they wanted in exchange for what you needed, the simple equation that formed the beauty, the complexity and the rotting of human desires.

Your breathing shifted to go with her rhythm without even knowing as she sighed, long and shaky as she dropped her head.

She went into this with the determination that one way or another, she would get you to stop with whatever you were doing with her brothers so things would go back to normal once and for all without lingering glances and hints that weren’t so subtle and glares at the dining table, but now she wasn’t so determined anymore. Fuyumi now realised that things had never been normal, the cracks gad always been here and you simply found a way to slip through.

They wanted you, but what did she want?

Todoroki Fuyumi was the one who desperately tried to hold the family together through the years when her siblings were deep in resentment and her father obsessed with making a legacy out of what was left, even if it took filling up the growing cracks bit by bit until she didn’t even know who she was doing it for anymore.

If the cracks had managed to close because they all wanted the same thing, then so be it.

You did not flinch away when Fuyumi leaned forward, her lips stilled on yours as she held herself up with her palms on the floor. Her lips were cold, like the first rain drop that fell into the calm ocean before the surface started to ripple into many, many silver rings, until it melted into the heat on your skin and seeped right under.

You felt a tingle unlike any you had experienced when you snapped out of your shock and kissed her back, subtle closing and opening of lips turned into gentle nibbling as you gravitated towards her body. Her skin was so soft, and the way she held onto your jaw with the tips of her finger as she made you parted your mouth wider was almost tender in a way.

You couldn’t stop the whimper from slipping out when she sucked on your tongue, hand placed at the base of your spine to press your body closer to hers. Her chest squished against yours and you whined when she shoved her knee between your legs. Her palm smoothed over your curves and down to the swell of your hips as she cradled your face, gripping on the doughy flesh encouragingly as she guided you to hump against her thigh.

Her breath was shaky when she pulled away, the one drum in her heart particularly loud when her eyes landed on your misted stare behind hooded lids.

So this was why they were all so crazy about you.

One tilt of her head was enough of a sign as you latched onto her, your lips trailing along her exposed neck and down to the collar of her shirt. She sighed when you rolled it up from the hem, your hands cupping her tits before placing open kisses on the delicate skin. The way her skin flushed under your touch was an intoxicating sight and you found yourself wanting more as you pushed the cup of her bra down to wrap your lips around her nipple. It was the moan she made when you sucked on the bud that set you off, the way it hardened in your mouth as you swirled your tongue around it had you bucking your hips against her legs uncontrollably.

The saltiness that lingered on her skin provoked your senses as you trailed down, making sure to kiss every soft curve and dent of her body before settling at the waistband of her pants. Her legs were tight around your head when you pulled it down, the muscles of her thighs flexing when your mouth hovered right above her sex. She laid back to allow you better access and you could see her breasts heaving with each heavy exhale above you as she leaned against the tatami. You tested the waters with a kitten lick along her folds, getting a little bolder when her legs clenched around your shoulders and she let her head fell back with a hum. Her cunt clenched around nothing when you pulled away, the silver string of your saliva connecting her folds and your lips was sinful as you took in the clear essence that was starting to form.

She mewled when you dipped back down, your hand kneading her soft thighs as your tongue parted her folds and savoured the taste of her arousal. Your finger brushed past her pubic hair as you pulled back the hood of her clit, the shudder of her legs hitting you in full force when you flicked your tongue against the engorged bud. Fuyumi brought her hand to the back of your head, her fingers lacing into your hair to shove your face closer against her pussy as she rolled her hips, pressing herself on your face for more friction.

Her lips fell open when you eased a finger into her tight hole, the velvet walls gushing with wetness sucking your digit in as you pumped it in her cunt. Toes curling under the pleasure when you added in another one while your lips focused on her clit.

“Hm- right there!” she panted when you scissored your fingers in her, stretching her out as you slurped up her juices that were trailing down your wrist and seeping with each flick of your wrist. You could feel her tightening around your fingers and you looked up only to feel a rush of heat down your core when you saw her face.

Her glasses had fallen half way down the bridge of her nose, the lenses were not enough to hide her blown out pupils that were hazy with lust. A furious flush dusted across her cheek and reached the tip of her ear, plump lips parted as her tits bounced with each heave of her chest. Her throat bobbed when you arched your fingers inside of her, strumming along her clenching walls encouragingly as meek moans rolled off her tongue.

The musky scent overwhelmed you when you sucked down hard on her clit, her legs kicking mid-air as a lewd moan rippled out from her lungs while you held her still. The pad of your fingers dragging along her insides rang tingles on her scalp as she came on your mouth, the squelch from her wet cunt loud in your ear when you pulled your hand away and earning you a whimper.

Fuyumi’s vision was still clouded over by the aftershocks of her orgasm but she found herself unable to look away when you darted your tongue out to lick your fingers clean between her legs. The grip on your shoulder as she ushered you up was almost painful before it was replaced by the feeling of her fumbling hands trying to stripe you down, her whining into your mouth at the taste of her arousal on your tongue as she cupped your ass.

Your moan as she pulled you to straddle her thigh was muffled when she pushed your head down against her chest, the soft mounds pillowing you as she dug her fingers into your hips and pressed down. Your cunt throbbed when it rubbed against the smooth skin of her leg, the muscle beneath flexing and coaxing out numbing shivers along your spine. Your hands flew to find hold on her arm as she bounced the leg you were riding, your back arching and pushing you closer to her as your eyes shut tight.

The coil in the pit of your stomach tightened with each drag of your folds along her thigh, feeling her hot skin under your touch as your hands roamed all over her body. Your breath fanned against her skin, each moan and pant rumbling against her in weak vibrations. She kept one arm around your waist as the other slid down her stomach and stopping at her slit. Every hair on her skin stood up at the sight of your shoulders tensing up, slipping her fingers in as the speed at which you rolled your hips against her flesh increased and setting a feverish pace like she was rushing to tip over.

You tried to follow the rhythm of her fingers jamming in her cunt with the thrust of your hips, your legs almost cramping up as your toes curled and uncurled. She thumped her leg up and down more vigorously as muscles pulled taut under her skin, fighting back the urge to roll her eyes back so she wouldn’t miss the miniatures on your expression as you came undone.

“Are you close?” she let out a hasty chuckle when you nodded rapidly, her hand that was on your torso gripping down encouragingly as she aimed her fingers at the spot that had shocks pulsing through her veins, “then cum on me- cum on nee chan-”

The band in you snapped at the coo, your nails leaving white lines on her skin as you scratched down. Your hips dragged sloppily along her skin as you rode out your high, lying weakly on her shoulder as you looked up at her. Fuyumi threw her head back as her arm tensed, the joint of her wrist popping out as a sharp moan spilled from her mouth.

All that could be heard in the room was the pants that were under your ear as you leaned on her chest, the steady rise and fall under your cheek luring you into a state of serenity. A mellow heat slowly imploded from your core, spreading through your skin and planting at the back of your head.

Fuyumi’s arm draped over your frame loosely, her breaths slowly calming down as she drummed a soothing rhythm against your skin, the tempo synching with the pounding under your ear.

Thump. Thump. Thump.

Your eyelids felt heavier and heavier as the warmth seeped in, your shoulders almost weightless for the first time in a while.

So you closed your eyes, and listened to the steady beats of your sister’s heart, until you could hear nothing at all.

“Sometimes I feel bad for always leaving you at the house on your own.”

Your mother’s smile was apologetic as she rummaged her bag for her keys as she shoved her feet in her heels. You leaned against the frame of the door, tilting your head as you tap your feet against the ground.

“It’s alright, I have company around,” you said with a hum, “leave it, I’ll lock the door for you.”

Your mother paused, looking up from her bag with an almost sheepish sounding chuckle as you leaned over for the knob. She had been worried about whether you would get alienated by the Todoroki children when she married into the family, but it seemed like her worries were unneeded after all.

Sometimes she would walk in on you with the rest of Enji’s children and laugh to herself at how silly she was for even thinking that you would have an issue blending in.

You were a strong girl, you could always find a way to manage yourself through anything.

Your throat felt dry when your mother suddenly gripped your hands in her palm, the calloused pad of her fingers rubbing against your wrist as she looked at you, looking almost teary eyed as she shook her head with a laugh.

“I’m so glad that you are happy here,” she said, the wrinkles at the corner of her eye crinkling up as she smiled, “I really am.”

The tug at the corner of your lips felt almost stiff as you squeezed her hand, nodding to the way she shook your clasped hands like words could not do her thoughts justice. Her touch lingered, even after you gave her a light chuckle and reminded her that she would be late if she doesn’t head out soon.

She gave you one last look before stepping out the door, the beaming grin on her face not once faltering before she was gone from your sight.

She did not need to know. You thought to yourself as you turned around, your hand rubbing at where your mother’s emotionally tight grip had left a warm sting on your skin as you headed back upstairs.

Your family was waiting for you, after all.

#bnha imagines #bnha x reader #bnha smut #todoroki x reader #todoroki smut #kinktober 2020 #tw: stepcest #tw: pseudo-incest

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rebelwrites · 3 years

Text

Trouble Is Her Default (NSFW)

Jax Teller x Reader

A/N so I got the quote “Trouble is her default setting.” out of the book series Night School by CJ Daugherty. This is for @little-diable 7k followers writing challenge, I’m in love with how this turned out and think you chose the perfect quote for me to write 💜

Warnings: public sex, mention of bodily fluids

Glancing over to the passenger seat, a smirk playing on your blood red lips, Jax was sat not watching the world pass but on a phone call. Probably something club related but you weren’t paying attention and you were bored, he had turned your music down and the conversation was taking far too long for your liking, this was meant to be a day off.

You knew just how to get his attention, one thing that always worked, the thing that always freaked him out. Driving with your knees whilst you rolled a cigarette. Your eyes flicked between the road and the tobacco pouch waiting for his reaction.

“Babe” Jax shouted.

“What” you laughed “I’m rolling you one as well”

“You know that isn’t what I meant” He scolded before turning back to his call “yeah I gotta go she’s driving with her knees again. We will be there soon and hopefully arrive alive”

Rolling your eyes at his comment as you passed him his smoke.

“Thank you but eyes back on the road trouble” He winked, lighting the smoke, placing his free hand on your bare thigh.

A couple more hours passed and Jax was getting bored, he wasn’t the best passenger but agreed to let you drive as it meant you got time alone. But you had been on the road for a while now and because he was bored you knew the dreaded question was coming.

“Are we there yet?” He whined.

“Get out” you said with no emotion in your voice.

“You do realise we are going 85 miles and hour, down the highway in the middle of nowhere” He said staring into your head.

“Did I stutter bitch?” you sassed glancing over at him.

You knew what you were doing, it was payback for him teasing you for the past hour as he gently ran his fingers over the inside of your thigh, every so often he ran his finger over your thong. So calling him a bitch, you were awaking something in him as you saw him shift in the seat. When it came to Jax you were very much a submissive behind closed doors but once in a while your dominant bratty side came out to play and you knew he loved it.

“Pull over now” Jax demanded taking control again.

“And what if I don’t want to?” you smirked “like we are nearly at this stupid place anyway, you know I don’t like weddings”

“But it’s your cousin and Juice’s wedding” Jax laughed.

“Still hate weddings and you know that” you huffed “you know I’m only coming for the free food, drink and that hella slutty wedding sex I plan on having”

“Is that right?” Jax hummed as his hand moved further up your thigh, pushing the lace of your thong aside, his fingers grazing over your aching clit making you take a sharp breath “and just who would this slutty wedding sex be with then miss Y/L/N?”

“I dunno yet” you shrugged as you pulled up into an empty lay-by at the side of the road, as soon as you cut the engine Jax was leaning over breathing down your neck “you never know I might find some really hot groomsman”

“Well darlin’ you have the hottest groomsman right here in the car with you” he whispered against your ear before slowly dipping his head connecting his lips on your neck. “I can feel how wet you are already babygirl and I know you won’t last the ceremony and it’s not like we can bail halfway through for me to give you that slutty wedding sex you want”

Every word he said he moved his fingers just a little more until he was teasing your entrance whilst rubbing circles on your clit with his thumb.

“Jax” you breathed leaning your head back against the headrest “don’t be a tease please”

“Tell me what you want Babygirl” he said lowly nipping at the sensitive spot on your neck whilst he slowly pushed his finger into your wet pussy.

“I want” you breathed letting the pleasure of his fingers wash over you “I want you to fuck me”

“Need a bit more than that darlin’” he smirked against your skin as he inserted another finger making you moan.

“I want you to fuck me, right here, right now” you whispered thrusting your hips against his fingers to create some much needed friction. “Over the bonnet of the car”

“Damn my baby is feeling frisky” he chuckled slowly pulling his fingers out making you whine.

You could help it as you wrapped your hand around his wrist bringing his fingers to your mouth, looking up at him through your false lashes you took his fingers into your mouth sucking your juices off them making him growl and adjust his pants from the hard on he was rocking.

Moving your hands up your thighs you pushed the material of the dress up, wrapping your fingers around the band of your thong, shimmying your way out of them, placing the damp material in his hand before climbing out of the car, positioning yourself over the bonnet, thank god you cleaned your car yesterday so at least you dress would get ditched.

“Fuck you look so pretty like this” Jax growled as you head him unbuckling his pants “just waiting patiently for me to slam this big cock into you, stretching that pretty little pussy”

Glancing back he was standing there palming his hard cock, smirking at you. In the time it took him to reach you he had ditched his waistcoat, tie and had rolled his sleeves up, the white shirt clinging to his toned body, the sight alone made you wetter if that was physically possible. Here you were bent over your mustang, pussy on show waiting like a good girl.

You were distracted by your thoughts you didn’t realise Jax was now digging his ring adorned fingers into your hips.

“Jax please” you whined “stop teasing me and just fuck me”

“As you wish” he smirked as he thrust into you making you moan at the feeling of him stretching you out.

There was nothing gentle about it, this was a hot quick fuck at the side of the road as you both knew neither one of you would have made it until the reception so this kept the horniness at bay for a bit.

“Play with your clit you slut” he hummed in your ear making you quiver.

Following his command you slipped your hand between you and the car, finding the sensitive bud. A loud moan left your lips and you played with your clit whilst Jax rammed you from behind.

“Holy fuck” you moaned as his thrusts got harder and harder “baby I’m so fucking close”

“That’s my girl” Jax panted as he slapped your bare arse making you squeal “I can feel you clenching babygirl, stop holding back we don’t have time for games right now”

“Make me cum Jax” was all you managed to say before your orgasm washed through you making you scream out his name.

The feeling of your walls tightening around his cock pushed Jax over the edge as he squeezed your hit, moaning in your ear as he came. You were still coming down from your high to even realise he had put a condom on, that wasn’t like him at all.

It’s like he could tell the thoughts running through your head as he placed a soft kiss on your butt cheek.

“I don’t think people, mainly your parents, would appreciate seeing their little girl with cum dripping down her thighs so I took one for the team” he chuckled as he cleaned himself up with a napkin before redressing himself.

You hadn’t moved an inch.

“You gonna be okay to drive?” Jax asked as he helped clean you up, pulling your dress back down.

“I don’t think so” you whispered as he pulled you into his arms.

“Okay” he whispered kissing your head guiding you to the passenger seat of the car “just rest for the last 35 minutes before we get to the church”

The final part of the drive was a blur, Jax kept his hand planted on your knee, gently stroking your skin.

As you pulled into the car park of the church the rest of the sons were smirking at you both, they knew what had happened just by the fact Jax was driving and by his appearance.

Jax being the gentleman he was, climbed out the car to help you out so you could keep your modesty, his tie was hung undone around his neck. Once he had grabbed his waistcoat and jacket out of the car he quickly redressed before you walked hand in hand to everyone else.

“Took your damn time” Juice smirked looking at the time on his phone “you were meant to be here like 20 minutes ago”

“Yeah well something came up” you shrugged leaning your head against Jax’s shoulder.

“You mean you stopped to fuck” he smirked. “Making you late to my wedding always knew you were trouble Y/N”

“Come on Juice like you didn’t already know trouble is her default setting” Jax smiled kissing the top of your head “now let’s get in the church before your wife to be gets her and busts your balls before you are married”

SOA TAGLIST

@chibsytelford @talicat713 @corebore123 @nothingeverdies @teapartydreams @mrspeacem1nusone @khyharah @itmejado @beth-winchester21 @rocketqueen @auroraariza @trulysuccubus @haynsey @witching-hour @destynelseclipsa @edonaspanca @abbiesthings @enamouravecleslivresetlechocolat @jadesamhart @lady-pswrld @ly--canthrope @hennessyauntie @gemini0410 @i-love-scott-mccall @est11 @mystic-shadows42 @sugary-x-sweet @starrynite7114 @skyofficialxx @terminallygenius @lauraashley93 @leaalfred @angelreyesgirl89 @sheeshgivemeabreak @marquelapage @meteora-fc @penny4yourthot @justahopelessssromantic @ilikechocolatemilkh @mayans-sauce @xbreezymeadowsx @ben-c-group-therapy @-im-fantastic- @bigcreatorwombatdreamer @milaxmariex @cubblycie @little-diable @hotdamnhunnam @behindmyeyes-insidemyhead

#jax teller oneshot #jax teller x reader #jax teller imagine #jax teller fanfiction #jax teller #sons of anarchy

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ptolomeia · 3 years

Text

Will Every Day Be the Same

Rating: T

Ship: Roman/Janus

Word count: 2964

Link on AO3

Summary: Roman is stuck as Janus's best man at Janus's wedding to another man. Has, in fact, been stuck at Janus's wedding to another man for the past 380 days. Maybe confessing his unrequited feelings, letting Janus knowingly break his heart and accept the pain he deserves for not being a good enough friend is what Roman needs to do to be able to move on.

Fortunately for him, the universe has other plans.

Or, in which the universe decided these two idiots are going to get together is it has to reorder space and time 380 times to make it happen.

Roman leaned against the stone railing of the balcony that stretched across the west side of the venue Janus had chosen for his wedding and watched the sun set. The sky was aflame in pinks and purples as the sun made it’s way slowly beneath the horizon. It was the perfect sunset, just has it had been the perfect sunset the last 380 times he’d watched it.

The perfect sunset, the perfect venue, the perfect decorations—yes, everything about this wedding was perfect—except the man Janus had agreed to marry. Oh, the Asshole might be excellent on paper—good salary, doing well in his field, high grades, objectively (no matter how little Roman wanted to be objective about that Ass) good looking, but Janus didn’t love him. In all the time they’d dated, been engaged, any of the 381 times Roman had lived out this day, Roman had never seen the Asshole make Janus laugh his real laugh, or show any sign that he knew that underneath Janus’s sharp and witty exterior was an actual person—

Roman cut off that train of thought. It never ended well. Mostly, in fact, it ended with Roman punching the Asshole in his smug face. Or egging Virgil to do it instead, as he had the first time, because he’d promised when Janus had asked Roman to be his best man—‘you I can trust not to deck my fiance’—and Roman was honour bound to not give into his baser, if extremely tempting, instincts. Or slipping some very powerful laxatives—and why Remus had brought those to a wedding, he really didn't want to know—into the Asshole's drink. Or—

There were at least another 200 'or’s on that list, and none of them had made the slightest difference. Even on the days when he had been good. When he’d honoured his promise to Janus to not start anything in both letter and spirit, someone (mostly Virgil) did something that made the whole thing end in tears anyway and Roman woke up this morning again, to have to attend Janus’s wedding to that Asshole.

The sun slipped further below the horizon and the sky above him drifted darker.

Roman didn’t think he’d ever be able to think of the man by his name instead of the nickname Virgil and he had decided on after Janus had introduced them to his boyfriend for the first time.

His boyfriend.

That’s what it came down to, wasn’t it? Even if there weren’t all of his entirely valid critiques of the man Janus had chosen, the heart of the problem was that it wasn’t Roman Janus chose.

Roman was in love with his best friend, and the universe was punishing him for it. Either punishing him for loving Janus at all, or for not loving him enough. Not enough to step back and respect Janus’s choice. Not enough to actually do the job Janus had asked him to on his big day. It should have been an honour, to be given such a task. But Roman had failed it and now he was paying the price.

His throat burned and he wished he had some alcohol to wash the pain away, but he hadn’t ruined this iteration yet, and he wasn’t about to shoot himself in the foot now.

And who knew? Maybe accepting he deserved this pain was what he needed to do to move on. Maybe if he stopped fighting it, just let his heart shatter into a hundred thousand pieces and did the work anyway, maybe then he would be allowed to move on. Or maybe he had to accept moving on wasn’t in the cards for him and that he would go through this day—through watching the man he loved marry someone who didn’t love him—would be all he’d ever know for the rest of time.

Could he accept that? Could anyone make peace with that kind of pain? Did he even have a choice in this at all. He’d already gone through this day for over a year, how many more could he take before he broke down completely?

“There you are!” called out a voice from behind him. The corners of Roman’s lips turned up. From the day Roman had first heard it, it had never failed to stir butterflies in his stomach or set his heart racing, even if now it raced to the breaking point.

“Is it time for the ceremony already?” Roman asked, as if he didn’t know exactly how much of the sun disappeared before it was time. He still had half an hour or so left, before he had to smile as Janus smiled his Public Smile at the Asshole, and they exchanged vows full of beauty and empty of sincerity.

“Roman?” Janus asked, and Roman heard more genuine emotion in his name than Janus would have for the rest of the evening—at least until the Yelling at Roman for Ruining His Wedding started. That portion of the evening was always full of genuine emotions. “Roman… is something wrong?”

Roman let out a soft laugh. He wasn’t sure what he’d done wrong this time, but it seemed he’d manage to mess up iteration 381 as well, if Janus was worried instead of enjoying himself. No point in fighting again until the next this morning then.

“Yes,” He admitted, keeping his eyes on the Sunset and refusing to turn to see Janus dressed so perfectly—every piece of his outfit carefully selected and perfectly in place; so beautiful it could break Roman’s heart even without everything else.

“What is it?” Janus asked, a strange gentleness in his voice despite the stress from the wedding. Or was it strange? After all, they hadn’t reached the part where Janus hated him yet.

And anyway, how was Roman supposed to answer that question? I’m stuck in an infinite time loop and in the past 380 versions of this day, I’ve been arrested, beaten, disgustingly drunk, and worst, worse than all of those combined, watched you marry someone not worthy of polishing your shoes three hundred and eighty times?

Fuck it. He’d already ruined this iteration, he might as well say it. Just once. Once when it wouldn’t make a difference anyway. Maybe that was what he needed to be able to move on.

“What’s wrong,” he said, feeling the strange lightness honesty brought, “is that I’m in love with you, and I can’t stand to watch you marry that man—a man who’s never once made your eyes sparkle the way they do when even you can’t hide how happy or amused you are—again. You deserve so much better than him, Janus. You deserve someone who understands and appreciates your brilliance and wit, yes, but also someone who loves the soft parts of you you try so hard to hide with that facade of yours any time something hits too close to home. You deserve someone who wants to see you happy more than anything else in this world, which means you also deserve better than me. Because no matter how hard I try, I can’t stand back and respect the choice you made. I’m too self involved. Why else would I be out here, confessing my feelings when I should be in there, helping soothe your nerves and practicing my best man speech. I’m sorry for telling you this—I know you hate me for it—I’m sorry I’m not a better man, but just this once, when it won’t matter in the morning, I needed to tell you I love you. More than anyone I’ve ever loved on this earth. And I’m sorry it’s not good enough.”

“Roman,” Janus said, and Roman refused to look at him, refused to see the anger that he new would be blooming across Janus’s face. “Roman, look at me.”

He’d just confessed his feelings to his best friend 25 minutes before that friend’s wedding. He deserved what was about to come. He forced himself to turn to face Janus’s unreadable, searching expression.

“You’re in love with me?” Janus asked, voice full of what emotions Roman couldn’t discern.

“Yes,” Roman said, closing his eyes—unable to handle the pain he knew he deserved. “I’m sor—“

“Good,” Janus said, before grabbing Roman’s collar and yanking him forward.

Roman’s eyes flew open as Janus’s lips met his.

His brain simply froze and desperately tried to process for exactly one second before his body went ‘fuck it’, wrapped Janus in his arms and pulled him close. Even—no, especially if this would all disappear in the morning, he was going to hold onto it for all it was worth. Eventually—Far too soon—Janus pulled back just enough to speak.

“Ahh,” he breathed, “I have wanted to do that for a very, very long time.”

Roman blinked once. Twice. And then his brain finally caught up with the words Janus had just said.

“Then why didn’t you?!” he demanded, thinking of all the pain that could have been avoided if Janus had. For example, Roman wouldn’t be stuck in a repeating loop of Janus marrying someone else for the rest of eternity.

Janus raised an eyebrow. “When we first met, you were head over heels in love with some other man—Jake? Jonathan?—Whatever his name was, it was clear you had eyes for no one else. I try not to pick fights I know I can’t win, Roman, and you were in love with him.” In hindsight, Roman thought, perhaps pretending to be madly in love with a man who, if he kept things vague enough, he could hide was actually his 42 year old, happily married co-worker, was not the best way to handle wanting to hide his crush on Janus. A crush that had grown into so much more. “Alex… well, he may not have been my first choice, but you do have to admit, he’s very good on paper.”

“He’s an asshole and you don’t love him.”

“I didn’t think I could have the man I did,” Janus replied. “And you? Why did you wait until half an hour before my wedding to tell me this?”

For the sake of not ruining this precious, fragile, unbelievable moment, Roman did not explain that he’d actually waited more than 9000 hours after the first time Janus had gotten married.

“Because the man I love was with someone else, and I am a man of honour.”

“What, and that doesn’t apply now?” Janus asked, eyebrow raised.

No, of course it did, but after 380 times—

“Sometimes, the truth is more important.”

A look passed across Janus’s face too fast for Roman to identify before his expression firmed, and he took a step back.

“Alright, that’s it,” Janus said, grabbing Roman’s arm, turning on his heel and marching off toward the parking lot.

“Janus?” Roman asked, not quite believing his luck.

“You have your keys on you? Good, give them to me. All my things are still inside—Text Logan to gather them and we’ll tell him where to bring them tomorrow. Oh, that reminds me. Text Virgil the wedding’s off and I’m delegating him to deal with it. He’s only been badgering me to do it since I first mentioned Alex brought up marriage. This can be how he pays me back for finally doing what he wanted me to.”

“Where to bring them— The wedding’s off—Janus, where are we going?”

“A hotel, probably. The masses know where the two of us live and I’m not wasting tonight answering questions now that I finally have you.”

If the loop weren’t hours from restarting, if this wasn’t the only chance Roman might ever have to be with Janus, he’d want to slow down, want Janus to end things properly with the Assho—with Alex. Want to start things right. But none of those were true, and if this was the only time in all eternity that Roman got to be with the man he loved, he was going to treasure every second of it.

Smiling, Roman reached into his pocket, pulled out his car keys, and handed them over.

Janus took them, stole one more kiss, before they both slipped into Roman’s car and drove away from Janus’s wedding without another word.

Janus found them a hotel as Roman sent the texts and turned off his phone. After all, it wasn’t like there would be any fall out from this in the morning.

They checked in, found their room, found each other, talked like they’d used to, before Janus’s life had been taken over with planning the wedding. They made love, grabbed cheap Thai take out, and ate it in their expensive suits as they talked even more, before making love again.

Finally, the early hours of the morning found them lying in bed together, Janus curled up into Roman’s chest, dozing off as Roman played with his hair. Roman tried to fight off the sleep he knew was coming—tried to treasure every last ounce of happiness he could take from this beautiful, impossible, perfect moment. He knew when he woke up, it would be today again, and who knew if he’d ever find his way back here, with Janus again. Even if he tried to do everything the same, he was the one thing that couldn’t help but changing how the day played out, even if, until today, he hadn’t been able to change the ending. All he knew was that this was the only time he knew he’d get to have Janus, because right now, he did. He’d never have thought that being caught in a time loop would make him aware of just how little time he had, but when all you have is hours in the face of eternity, you value each second for everything it’s worth.

Maybe every day for the rest of time would be the same, but this one day had been different. It would have to be enough.

“I love you,” Roman whispered one more time, while he still could.

“Mmmm,” was all Janus managed to reply.

Smiling softly, Roman tucked this moment away with all the others, and let himself drift off to sleep, finally ready to face today again.

So he was understandably surprised when he woke up at 7:16 the next morning, still in a hotel room, still with the man he loved curled up close. Roman blinked, incapable of processing the first new thing he’d seen upon waking for 381 days. His brain simply refused to work.

Until all of a sudden it did and his hand was scrambling for his phone, desperately turning it back on. He ignored the hundreds of missed messages and calls and stared desperately, unbelievingly, at the date. April 14th. It was tomorrow.

It was TOMORROW!

His eyes flicked down to the missed messages—including a few from Remus with increasingly imaginatively explicit use of emojis—and calls and—

Oh God.

If today was tomorrow then yesterday was real.

Roman and Janus had just walked away from Janus’s wedding with nothing but two text messages and now they were going to have to deal with it.

Oh, this was more than bad. He needed to pace, to move, to try to process the enormity of what they’d done.

Carefully, making sure not to wake Janus, Roman slipped from the bed so he could pace. Yet once he was upright, he couldn’t find it in himself to do so.

He should be panicked. He knew he should be panicked. There was no way this was going to be anything close to easy or simple but… but at least in theory, they’d only have to do it once. And for the first time in 381 days, he wouldn’t have to do it alone.

He looked down at Janus, still curled up in the bed. His hair was tousled and drool leaked from the corner of his mouth. Roman couldn’t help smiling. He wanted to get back into bed and hold Janus for all he was worth until Janus woke up and they could then eat breakfast as they talked about how they wanted to handle the mess they’d left behind, but first—

Roman had spent 381 days watching the same day pass him by, had watched the same perfect sunset 381 times. Before he went back to Janus, there was something he needed to see. He padded silently over to the window and, angling himself so that no light would fall across Janus and wake him, pulled open the curtains just enough to see outside.

It was a lucky chance, that their hotel had east facing windows.

Outside, the sun was struggling to fight through heavy cloud cover that promised curtains of rain later. There was nothing particularly note worthy about this sunrise—there weren’t really even any colours to speak of.

It was the most beautiful thing Roman had ever seen.

“Roman?” asked a sleep roughened voice behind him. Roman let the curtain fall closed and turned to see Janus, rubbing the sleep from his eyes despite Romans’ best efforts. “Roman, what are you doing? It isn’t even 8 AM and we definitely need more sleep before we tackle whatever’s waiting for us there.” He gestured to Roman’s phone and, thinking of some of the more inventive threats he’d see in the notifications from Virgil, Roman couldn’t help but agree. “Come back to bed, love.”

Love.

“Of course,” Roman said, walking back over and sliding under the covers to hold Janus close again.

At Janus’s smug, happy, sleepy smile up at him, Roman had to correct his earlier thought.

The first new sunrise in 381 days was the most beautiful thing he’d ever seen, but one.

#Roman Sanders #Janus Sanders #roceit #Sanders Sides #Sanders sides fic #deceit sanders #they're idiots your honor #and i love them

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jovialyouthmusic · 4 years

Text

Silver Service

The Winter Games at Lythikos begin, and Liam and Olivia are seen together more and more. Anton’s condition deteriorates.

Word Count 3558

A/N One more chapter to go and this series comes to an end.

22 Not Quite Over

‘Well this is a step up from my last visit to Lythikos’ Drake said as Sophia consulted the list of bedroom allocations, remembering how she had helped out last time she’d been there. ‘Olivia always put me in the chalet furthest away from the Lodge, with only just enough room to walk round the bed and a shared bathroom.’ He explained to Riley ‘Mind you, that meant raiding her wine cellar all the more tempting. Sophia and I made a bit of a dent in her collection’ Sophia shuddered at the memory, remembering she had gone there after an ominous meeting with Constantine, when she wondered if Bastien would have to give her up for his job.

‘Maybe you and I can pay a visit this time’ Riley grinned, squeezing his arm as they walked along the narrowing corridors of the guest section of the lodge. The room they had been allocated was at least in the main building, and Drake knew that all of them had their own en suite bathrooms, though the section they were coming to was at the lower end of what the building had to offer. Still, it was better than queuing to shave and having to wrap up warm to get to the main house. Sophia stopped to look at the schematic she’d been given.

‘It’s just at the end of the corridor on the right’ she said, and as she did, her phone beeped with an incoming text message. She looked at it and smiled ‘It looks like Bas has some time off, so I’m going to go and meet him’ Riley grinned at her.

‘Don’t do anything we – oof!’ she grunted as Drake interrupted by elbowing her in the ribs.

‘Don’t remind me that my mentor has a healthy sexual appetite’ he grumbled, then rubbed the back of his neck sheepishly ‘Sorry Soph’.

‘It’s fine’ she said ‘I’ll probably see you at dinner, there’s a buffet in the main dining room at six’.

‘Sure thing’ Drake waited until she was out of earshot before leaning across to whisper in Riley’s ear ‘Now let’s go and give our bed a thorough testing’

‘Okay Tiger’ she murmured, and they went off to explore their new quarters.

--------

It was late when Olivia and Liam finally got time to talk again, as the Duchess had people to greet and meetings with her staff to make sure all was ready for the opening ceremony the day after. This time it was Olivia’s suite where they met. Liam had and adjoining room with a connecting door. Olivia sat heavily on the bed, and Liam went to sit with her, taking one of her feet to massage it.

‘I’m glad I had that nap in the limo’ she groaned ‘My energy levels aren’t what they should be’

‘Naturally, your growing a whole new person’ Liam smiled softly. ‘You can always delegate to me, you know’ She scoffed

‘This is my duchy, Liam’ she replied, and lay flat, looking up at the ceiling.

‘So what do you think of my proposal?’ He asked ‘I understand you’ve not had a lot of time to think about it, but I’d like to know what way you’re leaning.’

‘I know I need to give you an answer’ she said ‘Time’s getting on, and if I say yes, the announcement will be considerably different than my bearing the heir, to say nothing of our problem with Anton. I’m still his wife’

‘Now that’s where I’ve got good news for you’ he replied, and she sat up to look at him.

‘Good news is exactly what I need right now’ she said.

‘Well, there is yet another ancient Royal marriage clause that states that both parties must be reasonably expected to physically beget or bear children. King Theodore’s eldest son wasn’t allowed to inherit the throne after he had a riding accident that paralysed him from the waist down and made him impotent. The throne went to his brother’

‘But that didn’t apply to Regina. She was known to be barren when she married Constantine’ Olivia pointed out

‘Constantine already had two heirs, so that clause was null and void.’

‘So Anton’s condition – oh wait, Lucretia said death was certain’ Olivia mused.

‘But even if he lingered for years, we could argue that he’ll never be able to beget an heir’

‘It sounds a bit shaky’

‘A bit shaky is better than impossible’ Liam said ‘It’s our best argument so far’ Olivia lay back down with a sigh.

‘It’s not a good thing to wish another human being dead, even Anton Severus’ she grumbled ‘But it would solve a number of problems’

------

The following morning, Olivia and the King declared the games open. A winter fair with tents, stalls and marquees close to the lodge ran all through the event, and the sports started off with a downhill ski race that morning. There were enough entries for three heats, and four from each heat would go through to the final, to be held the next day. The next morning there would be curling on the lake and the afternoon hosted the downhill ski finals. The following morning was set aside for a figure skating event on the lake and snowboarding in the afternoon. The third day saw skating speed races in the morning and ski jumping in the afternoon. The fourth day was set aside for finals, awards, and a closing ceremony.

The event was well attended, and it looked as if Olivia’s fears of being unpopular were unfounded. She made sure to mingle with the crowds at the fair and with the competitors and sponsors. That meant that at the end of the day she was exhausted, which worried Liam.

‘Livvy, you need to take a break’ he said as she got ready for bed, too tired even to take a bath.

‘You know I have to work hard at this’ she sighed ‘There’s nobody to delegate to here, not even you.’

‘Then let me take care of you’ he said, and took hold of her shoulders, looking into her eyes ‘You know you can trust me’ She sighed, and he pulled her close ‘You’ve done really well today’ he continued ‘I plan to tell the country about our arrangement at the closing ceremony if things continue like this’ He felt her stiffen.

‘And if Anton’s still alive? He’s still legally my husband’

‘I’m working on it – remember that clause about being able to provide an heir? I’m waiting for a report from the hospital that will confirm that’s impossible’

‘You’d say it all hinges on who I choose’ she said ‘and you know I’d never choose Anton’

‘I suppose that’s true’ he replied ‘Now come on, let’s get you to bed, you need to rest’

------

The second day was a roaring success, and Olivia continued to make herself seen, but now Liam kept her company. There were whispers and rumours about the two of them, but they all seemed positive. Sophia was happy to discover that Bastien’s duties were light, and they spent most of the day together watching the sports and visiting the winter fair. She made sure to keep abreast of the media, monitoring opinions on the budding friendship between Olivia and the King. Late in the day, it was confirmed at last that Anton was unlikely to recover enough to reign, let alone provide an heir for his line. An broadcast to the public was arranged for early evening.

Liam chose to film the broadcast in the lounge of the suite Olivia had provided him with. It was to be recorded and broadcast within an hour. He sat at the desk by the window, the snowy slopes of the Lythikos mountains behind him. He gazed into the camera with sincerity, and began.

‘My dear citizens of Cordonia - although Lord Severus and I were at odds regarding the monarchy, I am deeply saddened to hear how ill he is. He is receiving the best of care, but the doctors tell me that he is extremely unlikely to recover full mobility. It is also doubtful that he will regain his mental faculties.’ he said gravely. ‘I need to go through due process, but I believe that his condition precludes him from ascending the throne. It is also evident that as Lord Severus is unable to sire an heir, and as he is the last of his line, that also means that Lady Olivia can be released from her betrothal, as set down in Cordonian law’ The camera crew couldn’t help but react to this statement, and Liam knew he would be answering some searching questions in the press conference after the broadcast. He paused to let his statement sink in before starting again.

‘Staying here in Lythikos, I am aware that I am not on home ground, and over the centuries there has been rivalry between the houses of Rys and Nevrakis. I am aware that my own father also caused disharmony with House Severus. In this day and age, I hope that we can use diplomacy and frank discussion to solve disputes between families, or Duchies or countries.’ He paused for a moment

‘The charity tour that I have instigated has proved popular, so much so that I hope to make it an annual or biennial event. Each Duchy has a chance to raise money for deserving causes, and involves all levels of society, unlike the lavish balls and other events that have been run in the past almost for the sole benefit of the nobility. Here in Lythikos, the Winter Games and the fair have proved popular, not just with Lythikans, but with Cordonians from all corners of the Kingdom. I hope that our two houses can at last co-exist in harmony and unity with strong intentions for the prosperity of all our citizens. I am open to talks with any dissidents who have disputes that have remained unsolved in recent history, or indeed with longer standing issues.’

‘In conclusion, I would like to add that I will be making another address to the nation at the end of the games. I am honoured to be responsible for the prosperity and peace of such a beautiful part of the world, and intend to reign wisely and benevolently. Thankyou.’

-------

After the broadcast, Liam went to Olivia’s lounge, to find her dressed for bed, reading a book on Lythican traditions. He stooped to land a kiss on her forehead, and she looked up, surprised.

‘What was that for?’ she asked

‘Do I need a reason?’ he asked ‘You look more relaxed this evening’

‘Not being married to a snake like Severus goes a long way toward relaxing’ she answered ‘That, and the games are going really well.’ She put her book down and stretched. Liam knelt in front of her.

I know something that would relax you more’ he smiled, crooking an eyebrow.

‘I’m sick of massages and warm baths’ she grumbled ‘I’ll be glad when I’m into my second trimester. I’m told things are much more comfortable then’

‘Neither of those’ Liam replied, tracing a finger up the inside of her calf. When he reached her knee, she put her hand on his to stop him going higher.

‘Liam’ She said, drawing a breath ‘I’m pregnant, we don’t have to…’

‘Why not?’ he replied ‘I have it on good authority that orgasms are good for mother and child’ He took his hand back and put his palm to her cheek, rising as she leant toward him for a lingering kiss. She gazed at him, and he back at her.

‘You’re beautiful. Olivia’ he breathed ‘As soon as I let off the pressure of having to declare a bride, I relaxed, and saw who you truly are. You’re loyal and strong and passionate, and you never back down. I need someone like that in my life. You complement me perfectly.’

‘Liam’ she protested, but he stayed kneeling in front of her.

‘Just hear me out’ he said ‘I’ll accept whatever terms you want. Be my Queen, my lover, my consort. Whatever you want, I’ll give it to you willingly. Anything to have a loving family. You don’t wear your heart on your sleeve, but I see it. I see how selfless you were, offering to have the heir, asking nothing in return’

‘Why, Liam – what changed?’ she asked ‘You told me you weren’t capable of love, that you wanted to be free��

‘I saw what I was missing’ he said ‘I saw Bastien with Sophia, Drake with Riley – and I wanted the same. I just want to be with one person, and you – you know me inside out. I didn’t think I could expect anything like a normal relationship, but I think we could have something together. We’re a lot the same, you and I’ Olivia looked at her hands, but he caught at them.

‘Be mine, Olivia. Share your nights with me, be seen with me, stay by my side. I know you’re an independent woman, but I’d be so happy if you kept me company. Being King is a lonely job’

‘This is – well it’s not sudden, I suppose I’ve seen this coming.’ Olivia said ‘But will you feel the same this time next year?’ Liam looked thoughtful.

‘To be honest Livvy, I don’t know’ he said ‘Not for certain. But I have to try – if you’ll try with me’ Olivia nodded

‘I suppose none of us really know how things will be in the future’ she replied ‘I have given thought to your offer, but I’m not ready to answer you just yet.’

‘If it was up to me, I’d give you all the time in the world’ he said ‘But you know the sooner I announce you’re pregnant, the sooner the country will have some stability. If I can call you my Queen too, that would be incredible. I need to know by the end of the Games.’ Her eyes widened, but she nodded

‘I understand. I’ll give you an answer before your closing speech’

-------

Liam’s speech was well received, and as he had expected, he had questions to answer about Olivia, who accompanied him outside in a marquee at the Winter Fair the next morning, on the third day of the Games. The crowd demanded to hear from her, which of course Sophia had planned for, so she stepped up to the microphone.

‘I’m both honoured and humbled to have our new King, a close and long standing friend, attend this event, and am delighted that so many citizens have come to make it such a success. As you know, funds go toward setting up a new modern Intensive Care Unit in Lythikos capital, and we are well on the way to our target.’

‘What about Lord Severus?’ someone shouted out. Olivia composed her face.

‘I am of course saddened at the circumstances that have terminated my betrothal, much as I disliked the arrangement. As you know, it was planned before my birth and enforced by a very ancient law that was extremely difficult to negate. I would rather have found a legal solution to the problem than the tragedy that befell Anton. As you all know, my aunt acted without my knowledge and consent, and she will be dealt with under the law that she upheld and which bound me by an arrangement I did not seek or want.’ She smiled at the throng of people, a thin lipped smile which nevertheless reached her eyes so that the corners crinkled in genuine benevolence.

‘Lythikos has had a long tradition of solving its problems by force and conflict, but I hope under the guidance of King Liam to bring our Duchy into the twenty first century by relying on diplomacy and negotiation. War may be glorious, but it leaves widows, widowers and orphans, and the more Lythicans there are in the world, the better we can share our culture and arts.’

‘Can you comment on your relationship with his Majesty?’ someone asked ‘You’ve been seen together a lot recently. Is there some sort of alliance coming in the future?’ Again Olivia smiled, but enigmatically.

‘Liam and his family took care of me when my parents died’ she pointed out ‘We have a deep and close bond, and it’s only natural to seek each others’ company. Lythikos is part of Cordonia, and we hope to strengthen our bonds with all the other Duchies of Cordonia now that I am free of my betrothal.’ She looked at the clock at the back of the room ‘If you will excuse me, I have an appointment with the medals committee. Please feel free to watch the games and observe the wonderful talent our country has in winter sports thanks to Lythikos.’ She stepped away from the microphone, and Liam took over.

‘Thankyou for your time and patience, ladies and gentlemen. I will also be giving a speech at the closure of the games later tomorrow. Until then, please enjoy yourselves.’ As Liam walked away from the dais, Bastien approached him.

‘Your Majesty, I need to talk to you privately’ he said, a grave expression on his face. Liam nodded, and followed the Guard into to an empty lounge in the Lodge.

‘What is it, Bastien? I need to go and join Olivia’

‘The hospital called, Sir’ he replied ‘There’s been a deterioration in Severus’s condition. As he has no relatives, they need to know whether to keep him on life support, and you appear to be the person they feel best qualified to make the decision’ Liam frowned

‘That’s not good’ he replied ‘I could be accused of maliciously terminating him if I agree to turn the machines off’

‘That is true, Sir’ he replied ‘I suggest that you put the matter to an emergency Council meeting. All the members are here’

‘That’s excellent advice. Get everyone assembled in my lounge as soon as possible’

-------

The nobles and commoners of the current Council took a vote after both Liam and Olivia abstained from the motion that Anton be taken off life support once the doctors were certain that his quality of life suffered so much that he would have less than a minimal quality of life. Under present Cordonian law, unless family members could vouch for a patient’s care, it was customary not to let cases such as his remain on artificial means of support indefinitely. The threshold of viability, as it was known, was rapidly approaching, and although Liam vowed that the law would be changed, that would take time – time that Anton didn’t have. Nobody had stepped forward to claim responsibility for his welfare, so the Council voted that the machines be switched off at the discretion of the Doctor in charge of Anton’s care.

Liam was relived, as the decision took responsibility away from him, as it did for Olivia. It was decided that only one representative of the Council would be present when the machines were turned off, but not the King, not Anton’s unwilling wife, nor the Captain of the Guard. Bastien was yet to be sworn on to the Council.

‘Poor soul’ Liam murmured to Bastien ‘I’ve heard that those who made a last minute recovery say that it’s torment. Doctor Reeve told me that they will keep him hydrated and pain free, but that’s as much as they can do for him. I can only hope that he’s not aware enough to suffer.’ Olivia sat next to him, ramrod straight, her face unreadable to those that didn’t know her well+.

‘You’re too soft’ she muttered ‘I hope he suffers for all he’s put us through – you and me, and Sophia and Riley - and Drake, and Bastien and Adelaide. The list is too long for him to leave this life peacefully’ Liam bowed his head and closed his eyes.

‘Perhaps you’re right’ he said after a while ‘I have the feeling my Father would have handled this differently, but I can’t bring myself to follow in his footsteps. I’ll be glad when it’s all over’

@sirbeepsalot @stopforamoment @drakesensworld @katedrakeohd @texaskitten30 @be-still-my-aching-heart @hopefulmoonobject @dcbbw @classylady1234 @rainbowsinthestorm @kimmiedoo5 @bascmve01 @ibldw-main @addictedtodrakefanfic @trappedinfandoms @ravenpuff02

#silver service #bastien lykel #liam x olivia #anton severus #lucretia nevrakis #olivia nevrakis

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reallifesultanas · 4 years

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Portrait of Şehzade Mehmed/Mehmed herceg portréja

There is relatively little to know about Prince Mehmed, although legend says that he was the favorite child of Hürrem and Suleiman I. The prince’s education, intelligence and capabality are also legendary, as is the mosque built for him, the Şehzade Mosque, one of the most fantastic mosques in Istanbul, radiating the greatest serenity and perfection. Fortunately, Prince Mehmed was portrayed fairly well in the series, but there were still plenty of lies about him: for example, his relationship with his older brother, the circumstances of his death...

Circumstances of his birth

Mehmed was born in 1521, presumably around September, as the son of Sultan Suleiman and his concubine, Hürrem. At the time of his birth, his father was on a campaign in Rhodes, so probably his grandmother, Ayşe Hafsa Valide Sultan named the newcomer. As with every child’s birth, there were celebrations and feasts in the harem and even throughout the city. Mehmed was the first prince to born during the reign of Sultan Suleiman, and even the first prince to be born in the capital for the last almost 50 years. For this reason, his birth certainly caused great joy not only for the family but also for the people of Istanbul, as he indicated that their ruler was quite active not only on the battlefield but also in bed. The joy surrounding Mehmed's birth was further enhanced by the fact that Suleiman, who was on a campaign, reaped brilliant victories, the fame of which certainly reached the capital by then.

However, Mehmed had little chance of ever becoming sultan, for by this time he already had three older brothers. But soon, a tragic event overshadowed the joy that arose after his birth. In October, the plague broke into the palace and killed Suleiman’s two older sons, Mahmud and Murad. With that, Mehmed's chances increased. Suleiman soon, in violation of all traditions, made Mehmed's mother, Hürrem his favorite concubine and only sexual partner, thus the little prince was followed in quick succession by his siblings. And with Hürrem's influence, Mehmed's future also shone brighter. His only rival was his older half-brother, Prince Mustafa.

Early years and education

He certainly spent his early years with his mother, his teacher, within the walls of the Old Palace, but his father also frequently visited the family. Mehmed received parts of his education together with his older half-brother, Mustafa. He shared the most important event of their childhood with Mustafa also. In 1530, Suleiman staged a huge ceremony for Mustafa, Mehmed and his younger brother, Selim for their circumcision. The celebration lasted for days, with banquets, entertainment shows and a plethora of important, influential guests. A similar circumcision ceremony has never been held in the capital. During the ceremony, the princes also attended at the meatings with their father. In doing so, Suleiman actually introduced them to the public and to the statesmen as his heirs.

Mehmed was in the perfect age to be circumcised, so in his case, essentially after this event, his education became much more serious. This is evidenced by a letter, presumably from 1532, sent by Mehmed to father in his absence. In it, he reports about the conditions prevailing in the city, indicating precisely that the little prince had tracked every little detail from the accounts and reports. He mentioned that minor fires had struck twelve times since Suleiman's departure, but it was always managed to stop the spread in time. In another letter, he reports to his father with surprising accuracy and precision, that the Admiral, Hayreddin Barbarossa was in a sea battle.

In addition, the prince's letter also serves as evidence that the princes (at least Mehmed certainly) could make suggestions and could ask their father for requests, also on political issues. Namely, in his letter, Mehmed thanked his father a thousand times for accepting his proposal and elevating one of his men, Pilak Mustafa Pasha to a higher position. Mehmed liked Pilak Mustafa very much, so he wanted the pasha to rise up. His mother probably also supported his decision because she was the one who selected a girl from the harem to be Pilak Mustafa Pasha’s future wife.

In addition to politics, history, and other important topics, Mehmed also studied arts and languages. We know that he spoke Ottoman Turkish, Persian, Arabic, and some even say he learned Latin. It is clear, that his education was all-encompassing, and that Suleiman, as a true father, supported his son in his decisions, moreover he seriously considered the suggestions of the little prince. These already, and the relative immediacy of their letters, suggest that the Sultan and Mehmed were very close to each other.

The young prince

He was given the first really important position of his life in 1534. This year was very eventful for the family, as Suleiman's mother, Hafsa Sultan, died in early spring, and Suleiman soon left for a campaign, but before that he married Mehmed's mother, Hürrem, and also make her the head of the harem. Also, as he embarked on a long Iranian campaign, he left Prince Mehmed at Topkapi Palace to take care of the empire. This certainly filled the prince, just 14 years old, with immense pride, and placed a very heavy burden on the shoulders of his mother and teachers. It is probably during this period that the whole family moved from the Old Palace to the Topkapi Palace.

The prince’s position as defender of Istanbul and the fact that he successfully completed the task entrusted to him certainly increased in him the desire to have his own princely province as soon as possible and to gain real combat experience. He did not have to wait long for the latter, because in 1537 he was able to join to his father's campaign in Corfu. However, he had to wait a few years for the province still.

Later, in 1541, together with his two brothers, Selim and Bayezid, he accompanied his father to his campaign in Buda, and after the campaign Suleiman appointed him to his first princely province, Manisa. Prince Mustafa had previously lived in Manisa, but Suleiman had transferred him to another province, where he could make better use of his experiences, long before Mehmed was appointed. Thus, the legend that Suleiman exiled Mustafa from Manisa for the sake of Mehmed is not true.

Mehmed finally arrived in Manisa on 12 November 1541. Based on traditions, his mother should accompany the prince, just as Mustafa was accompanied by his mother and as Suleiman was accompanied by Hafsa. However, because of Hürrem's exceptional position, as the mother of more princes and as the sultan's legal wife, she did not accompany Mehmed. However, that doesn’t mean he was left alone. Mehmed's governess accomponied him, and usually the governesses were even closer to the children than their mothers, so Mehmed certainly did not suffer from a lack of support. The governesses were quite highly esteemed, in the eyes of both the public and the family. We know, for example, that Mehmed’s governess received an outstanding salary for the rest of her life. For being a governess was work for a lifetime, and in the absence of the prince's mother, the governess was considered the embodiment of the princely mother, so her words and orders were sacred. Of course, because of the paramount importance of the post, it is clear that the governess could only have been a person who was extremely loyal to Hürrem.

In addition, Hürrem herself chosed carefuly the the most beautiful and loyal concubines, the best kalfas, and eunuchs for Mehmed's harem. And indeed at the first capable time, Hürrem visited Mehmed. In 1543 Hürrem was already in Manisa, but the reason for her visit was not clear. She may have "just" wanted to visit her son, others say she went to Manisa for the birth of Mehmed's first child. Mehmed's first and only child, his daughter Hümaşah, may have been born around this time. Anyhow, when Hürrem left Manisa she wanted to visit her husband, who was nearby, since he was on his way to homa, after a campaign.

The tragedy

Hürrem had almost reached Suleiman's camp in Adrianapole when she received the devastating news from Manisa: Prince Mehmed was dead. The messengers certainly reached Hürrem for the first time, as she was on her way just from Manisa to Adrianapole. Maybe when she got the knews, Hürrem wanted to return to Manisa immediately, but this was not allowed to her, as the prince had lost his life in an infectious disease. The Manisa registers wrote about the prince's death the followings: "On the day when an agha brought news of the conquest of Esztergom and Belgrade, a huge ceremony and fireworks were held in Manisa, and at the same time Prince Mehmed fell ill. He was in bed for six days, and before the seventh night, the prince died. After a brief mourning period, his teacher and the treasurer Ibrahim Çelebi immediately set out for Istanbul with the prince's body. Until his death, the prince spent a year and two days in Manisa." The exact cause of death may be evidenced by an earlier post: "In the spring of this year, the plague reappeared in the city and buried a great many families underground." Thus, it cannot be ruled out that the prince also died of the plague, but any other disease is possible, for there is no direct evidence. Either way, on 7 November 1543, Prince Mehmed died.

Legendary funeral

The princes were traditionally buried in Bursa, whether they were executed or died by natural causes. However, Mehmed's body was quickly transferred to Istanbul. It is questionable whether Sultan Suleiman ordered this or whether Mehmed's teacher acted by himself, for the sources do not match. But it seems unlikely that a teacher would dare to make such a serious decision without the Sultan’s permission.

When Mehmed's body arrived to Istanbul on November 18, people, agas, pashas and everyone were amazed but accepted. It was expected that he will be buried in his grandfather, Selim I's mosque complex as Suleiman's previously deceased children or maybe in Bayezid II's mosque complex. However, Suleiman and Hürrem had other plans.

Since the body had to be buried as soon as possible, the funeral was eventually held in Bayezid Square and the prince's body was placed in a temporary tomb. During his funeral, the Suleyman were weeping unstoppably for more than 2 hours and he did not allow the body to be buried. After that, instead of the usual 3 days, he ordered prayers for his son’s soul for 40 days and the pashas had to wear mourning clothes for 40 days instead of the usual 3. Suleiman himself wore only black for a long time. This also shows well the father’s pain. Hürrem, meanwhile, tried to alleviate her grief by taking Mehmed's little daughter and her mother to herself. But for months she also kept a close watch on Mehmed's other concubines to see if any of them were pregnant. But unfortunately, none of the concubines were pregnant. In any case, Mehmed’s little daughter, Hümaşah, comforted the grieving sultan and his wife, as she became one of their favorite grandchildren, along with Mihrimah’s daughter and Selim’s son.

However, all this was not enough for Hürrem and Suleiman, so they decided to build a mosque for their son. The ambassadors expressed their shock in their reports and the people of Istanbul were also surprised to hear the news. Especially since the mosque was planned to be built at a very prominent point in Istanbul, on the site on which Sultan Suleiman had begun doing constructions months before Mehmed’s death. This clearly suggests that the sultan planned to set up his own complex on the wonderful place, but after his son's death he changed his mind and recommended the complex to his son. It was not only a generous and unprecedented act, but also quite bold. Suleiman was no longer young, it was not at all sure that he would be able to build another complex for himself in his life, so he risked to never have his own construction project in the capital. We have to admit, this is no small risk from a sultan. Fate eventually gave Suleiman enough time to build his own huge complex almost next to the mosque of Prince Mehmed.

The construction of the Mehmed's Mosque complex took about five years, during which time both Suleiman and Hürrem visited the construction site several times and commented on the work taking place there. Their care is a good indication that perhaps the rumor that Mehmed was Suleiman's dearest son and that he would have been the most worthy for the throne may be true. And according to this, the death of the prince was a tragedy not only for the family but also for the whole Ottoman Empire.

Used sources: L. Peirce - The imperial harem; L. Peirce - The empress of the east; G. Yermolenko - Roxolana in European Literature, History and culture

* * *

Mehmed hercegről viszonylag keveset beszélnek, pedig a legendák szerint ő volt Hürrem és Szulejmán kedvenc gyermeke. A herceg műveltsége, intelligenciája és rátermedtsége szintén legendás, akárcsak a számára emelt mecset, a Şehzade mecset, mely Isztambul egyik legfantasztikusabb, legnagyobb nyugalmat és tökéletességet sugárzó mecsetje. Mehmed herceget a sorozatban szerencsére meglehetősen jól ábrázolták, azonban még így is rengeteg csúsztatás volt vele kapcsolatban. Így például viszonya bátyjával, halálának körülményei...

Születésének körülményei

Mehmed 1521-ben született, vélhetőleg szeptember környékén Szulejmán szultán és ágyasa, Hürrem fiaként. Születésekor édesapja éppen Rodoszon volt hadjáraton, így vélhetőleg nagyanyja Ayşe Hafsa Valide szultána nevezte el a jövevényt. Mint minden gyermek születésekor, ekkor is ünnepségek és lakoma volt a háremben, sőt az egész városban. Mehmed volt ugyanis Szulejmán szultáni uralkodása során az első herceg, sőt az első herceg aki a fővárosban született az elmúlt majd 50 évben. Emiatt születése bizonyosan nagy örömöt váltott ki nem csak a családból, de Isztambul népéből is, hiszen jelezte, hogy uralkodójuk nem csak a harcmezőn, de az ágyban is meglehetősen aktív. Tovább növelte a Mehmed születése körüli örömöt az, hogy az éppen hadjáraton tartózkodó Szulejmán, fényes győzelmeket aratott, melyek híre minden bizonnyal elérte a fővárost is addigra.

Mehmednek azonban meglehetősen kevés esélye volt arra, hogy valaha is a birodalmi trónra ülhessen, ekkorra ugyanis már három idősebb fiútestvére volt. Hamarosan azonban tragikus esemény árnyékolta be a születése után jelentkező örömöt. Októberben a pestis betört a palota falai közé és magával ragadta Szulejmán két idősebb fiát, Mahmudot és Muradot. Ezzel Mehmed esélyei egyre csak növekedtek. Szulejmán szultán hamarosan minden hagyományt és tradíciót megszegve kedvenc ágyasává és egyetlen szexuális partnerévé tette Mehmed édesanyját Hürremet, így gyors egymásutániságban követték a kisherceget testvérei. Hürrem befolyásával pedig Mehmed jövője is egyre fényesebben tündökölt. Egyetlen vetélytársa idősebb féltestvére, Musztafa herceg volt.

Korai évei és neveltetése

Korai éveit minden bizonnyal édesanyjával, nevelőnőjével töltötte a Régi Palota falai között, azonban édesapja is gyakorta látogatta a családot. Itt már megkezdődött alapvető oktatása is, melynek egy részét bátyjával, Musztafával együtt kapta. Musztafa, gyermekkoruk legfontosabb eseményén is Mehmeddel együtt vett részt. 1530-ban Szulejmán hatalmas ceremóniát rendezett Musztafa, Mehmed és annak öccse, Szelim részére. Az ünnepség napokon át tartott, lakomákkal, szórakoztatóműsorokkal és rengeteg fontos, befolyásos vendég felsorakoztatásával. Ehhez fogható körülmetélési szertartás sosem volt még a fővárosban. Az ünnepség alatt a hercegek részt vettek a meghallgatásokon is édesapjukkal. Ezzel pedig tulajdonképpen Szulejmán bemuatta őket a nyilvánosságnak és az államférfiaknak, mint örököseit.

Mehmed épp tökéletes korban volt a körülmetéléshez, így esetében lényegében ezután az esemény után komolyodott sokat az oktatása is. Egyre részletesebbé, felnőttesebbé vált. Erre bizonyítékul szolgál egy feltehetőleg 1532-ből származó levél is, melyet Mehmed édesapjának küldött, annak távollétében. Ebben beszámol arról, hogy a városban milyen állapotok uralkodnak, pontosan jelezve, hogy a kisherceg nyomonkövetett minden apró részletet a beszámolókból. Említette, hogy Szulejmán távozása óta tizenkét alkalommal ütötte fel fejét kisebb tűzvész, ám mindig sikerült időben megállítani a terjedését. Másik levelében pedig Hayreddin Barbarossa admirális egyik csatájáról tesz jelentést apjának, meglepő pontossággal és precizitással.

Emellett a herceg levele arra is bizonyítékul szolgál, hogy a hercegek (legalábbis Mehmed bizonyosan) tehettek javaslatokat, fordulhattak kéréssel apjukhoz, politikai témákban is. Ugyanis levelében Mehmed ezerszeresen megköszöni édesapjának, hogy a elfogadta javaslatát és egyik kegyeltjét Pilak Mustafa Pasát magasabb pozícióba emelte. Mehmed nagyon kedvelte ugyanis Pilak Mustafa Pasát, így szerette volna, ha a pasa felemelkedhet a ranglétrán. Döntésében valószínűleg édesanyja is támogatta, mert ő volt az, aki a háremből választott ki egy lányt Pilak Mustafa Pasa jövendőbeli feleségének.

Mehmed a politika, történelem és más fontos témakörök mellett művészeteket és nyelvet is tanult. Tudjuk, hogy az oszmán török nyelv meleltt beszélt perzsául, arabul is értett, sőt egyesek szerint latinul is tanult. Jól látható tehát, hogy oktatása mindenre kiterjedt volt és, hogy Szulejmán valódi édesapaként támogatta fiát döntéseiben, komolyan fontolóra vette a kisherceg javaslatait. Már ezek is, és leveleik viszonylagos közvetlensége is utal arra, hogy a szultán és Mehmed igen közel álltak egymáshoz.

Az ifjú herceg

Élete első igazán fontos pozícióját 1534-ben kapta. Ez az év igen eseméyndús volt a családnak, hiszen koratavasszal hunyt el Szulejmán édesanyja, Hafsa szultána, majd Szulejmán hamarosan felszabadította, feleségül vette és a hárem fejévé tette Mehmed édesanyját, Hürremet. Emellett, amikor egy igenhosszú iráni hadjáratra indult, Mehmed herceget hagyta a Topkapi Palotában, hogy vigyázza a birodalmat. Ez minden bizonnyal hatalmas büszkeséggel töltötte el a mindössze 14 éves herceget, és igen komoly terhet rótt annak édesanyjára és oktatóira. Valószínűleg ezen időszakban költözött át az egész család a Régi Palotából a Topkapi Palotába.

A herceg posztja, Isztambul védelmezőjeként és az, hogy sikerrel teljesítette a rá bízott feladatot, minden bizonnyal tovább növelte benne a vágyat, hogy mielőbb saját tartományt kapjon és valódi harci tapasztalatokat szerezzen. Utóbbira nem kellett sokat várnia, 1537-ben csatlakozhatott édesapjához annak korfui hadjáratán. A tartományra viszont még éveket kellett várnia.

Végül 1541-ben két öccsével, Szelimmel és Bayeziddel karöltve elkísérték apjukat annak budai hadjáratára, a hadjárat után pedig Szulejmán kinevezte őt első hercegi tartományába, Manisába. Manisában korábban Musztafa herceg élt, ám őt Szulejmán már jóval Mehmed kinevezése előtt másik tartományba helyeztette át, ahol tapasztalatait jobban tudja kamatoztatni. Így tehát az a legenda, miszerint Szulejmán Mehmed kedvéért száműzte Musztafát Manisából, nem igaz. Végül 1541 November 12-én érkezett meg Mehmed Manisába.

A tradíció azt diktálta volna, hogy édesanyja kísérje a herceget, mint ahogy Musztafát is elkísérte édesanyja és ahogy korábban Szulejmánt is elkísérte Hafsa. Azonban Hürrem kivételes helyzete miatt, mint több herceg anyja, mint a szultán hites felesége, nem kísérte el fiát. Ez nem jelenti azonban azt, hogy magára hagyta volna. Mehmed dajkája tartott vele, márpedig egy dajka abban az időszakban sokszor még az édesanyánál is közelebb állt a gyermekekhez, így Mehmed egészen biztosan nem szenvedett hiányt támogatóban. A dajkák egyébként meglehetősen nagy becsben álltak, mind a közvélemény, mind a család szemében. Tudjuk például, hogy Mehmed dajkája élete végéig kimagasló fizetést kapott, annyit, mint amennyi egy vezető hárem kalfát illetett meg. A dajkaság ugyanis egy életre szólt, és a herceg édesanyjának hiányában a dajkát tekintették a hercegi anya megtestesülésének, így szava szent volt. Természetesen pontosan a poszt kimagasló fontossága miatt, egyértelmű, hogy a dajka csak olyan személy lehetett, aki a végletekig hűséges volt Hürremhez.

Emellett Hürrem maga választotta ki a herceg háremét a legrátermedtebb ágyasokból, kalfákból és eunuchokból. Sőt! Hürrem az első adandó alkalommal meglátogatta fiát. 1543-ban Hürrem már Manisában is volt, ám látogatásának oka nem tisztázott. Lehet, hogy "csak" meg akarta látogatni fiát, mások szerint Mehmed első gyermekének születése miatt utazott oda. Mehmed első és egyetlen gyermeke, lánya Hümaşah ugyanis ekkortájt születhetett. Így tehát Hürrem lehetséges, hogy friss nagymamaként hagyhatta el Manisát, hogy meglátogassa férjét, aki éppen a közelben táborozott egy hadjárat után.

A tragédia

Hürrem már majdnem elérte Szulejmán Drinápolyi táborát, amikor hírt kapott Manisából: Mehmed herceg elhunyt. A hírvivők minden bizonnyal Hürremet érték el először, hiszen éppen Maniszából volt úton Drinápoly felé. Nem tudni, hogy Hürrem innen Szulejmánhoz sietett e, felthetőleg azonnal vissza akart fordulni Maniszába, ám ezt nem engedték neki, hiszen a herceg fertőző betegségben vesztette életét. A maniszai jegyzőkönyvek így írnak a herceg haláláról: "Azon a napon amikor egy aga hírt hozott Esztergom és Belgrád meghódításáról, hatalmas ünnepséget, tűzíjátékokat rendeztek Manisában is, és ugyanekkor Mehmed herceg beteg lett. Hat napig nyomta az ágyat. A hetedik éjszaka előtt a herceg meghalt. Egy rövid gyászszertatás után tanítója, a kincstárnok Ibrahim Çelebi és néhány aga azonnal útnak indultak a herceg testével együtt Isztambulba. Haláláig a herceg egy évet és két napot töltött Manisában." A halál pontos okára pedig egy korábbi bejegyzés szolgálhat bizonyítékul: "Ezév tavaszán a pestis újra megjelent a városba és nagyon sok családot temetett a föld alá." Így nem lehet kizárni, hogy a herceg is a pestistől hunyt el, ám bármilyen más betegség is lehetséges, ugyanis nincsenek közvetlen bizonyítékok. Akárhogyan is, Mehmed herceg 1543 November 7-én örökre lehunyta szemeit.

Legendás temetése

A hercegeket a hagyományok szerint Bursában temették el, akár kivégezték őket, akár természetes halállal haltak meg. Mehmed testét azonban gyorsan Isztambulba indították. Kérdéses, hogy Szulejmán szultán rendelte így vagy Mehmed tanítója maga cselekedett, a források ugyanis nem egyeznek. Ám valószínűtlennek tűnik, hogy egy tanító meg mert volna hozni egy ilyen komoly döntést a szultán engedélye nélkül.

Amikor Mehmed Isztambulba ért november 18-án az emberek, agák, pasák és mindenki csodálkozott, de elfogadták. Arra számítottak, hogy nagyapja I. Szelim, esetleg II. Bayezid mecsetjében helyezik majd örök nyugalomra, ahogyan Szulejmán korábban elhunyt gyermekeit is. Szulejmánnak és Hürremnek azonban más tervei voltak.

Mivel a testet mielőbb el kellett temetni, végül a Bayezid téren tartották meg a temetést, és egy ideiglenes türbébe helyezték a herceg testét. Temetése alatt a szultán több, mint 2 órán keresztül zokogott megállíthatatlanul és nem engedte, hogy a testet eltemessék. Ezekután pedig a szokásos 3 nap helyett, 40 napig rendelt el imádságokat a fia lelkiüdvéért és a pasáknak 40 napig kellett gyászruhában járni a szokásos 3 helyett. Szulejmán maga is sokáig csak feketét viselt. Ez is jól mutatja az apa fájdalmát. Hürrem eközben gyászát azzal igyekezett enyhíteni, hogy magához vette Mehmed kislányát annak édesanyjával együtt. De hónapokig szoros megfigyelés alatt tartotta Mehmed többi ágyasát is, hátha valamelyikük áldott állapotban van. Sajnálatosan egyik ágyas sem volt várandós. Mindenesetre Mehmed kislánya, Hümaşah vigaszt nyújtott a gyászoló szultánnak és feleségének, hiszen ő lett egyik kedvenc unokájuk, Mihrimah leánya és Szelim fia mellett.

Azonban mindez nem volt elég Hürremnek és Szulejmánnak, ezért úgy döntöttek, mecsetet építtetnek fiuk számára. A követek döbbenetüket fejezték ki jelentéseikben és Isztambul népe is meglepetten állt a hír hallatán. Főleg, hogy a mecsetet Isztambul egy igen kiemelt pontján tervezték megépíteni, azon a telken, melyen Szulejmán szultán már hónapokkal Mehmed halála előtt építkezésbe kezdett. A szultán ugyanis saját komplexumát tervezte felhúzni a csodálatos színtéren, amikor azonban fia halána után meggondolta magát és a komplexumot inkább fiának ajánlotta. Ez egyébként nem csak nagylelkű és példátlan húzás volt, de meglehetősen merész is. Szulejmán ugyanis már nem volt fiatal, egyáltalán nem volt biztos, hogy életében képes lesz még egy másik komplexumot is felépíttetni önmaga számára, tehát azt kockáztatta meg, hogy soha nem lesz a fővárosban saját építkezési projektje. Be kell lássuk, ez nem kis kockázat egy szultántól. A sors végül elég időt adott Szulejmánnak arra, hogy szinte Mehmed herceg mecsetjének szomszédságában felhúzhassa saját, hatalmas komplexumát is.

Mehmed mecset komplexumának építkezése nagyjából öt évig tartott, mely időszakban mind Szulejmán, mint Hürrem többször is meglátogatták az építkezést és véleményezték az ott zajló munkálatokat. Gondoskodásuk jól jelzi, hogy talán igaz lehet a pletyka, miszerint Mehmed volt Szulejmán legkedvesebb fia és ő lett volna a legméltóbb a trónra Szulejmán halála után. Eszerint pedig a herceg halála nem csak a családnak volt tragédia, de az Oszmán Birodalom számára is.

Felhasznált források: L. Peirce - The imperial harem; L. Peirce - The empress of the east; G. Yermolenko - Roxolana in European Literature, History and culture

#Suleiman the Magnificent #Suleiman I #KanuniSultanSüleyman #süleyman I #hürrem sultan #haseki #hümaşah #Mihrimah Sultan #Selim II #manisa #bursa #Şehzade mosque #şehzade mehmed #prince mehmed #Sehzade mehmed #mehmed

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In the Shadow of the Moons - Selected Quotes

Selected quotes from In the Shadow of the Moons by Nansook Hong (first wife of Hyo Jin Moon, Rev. Moon’s eldest son from his marriage with Hak Ja Han)

Table of Contents

Nansook Hong reflecting on why she was chosen as Hyo Jin’s wife Sun Myung Moon Gambling Verbal abuse from Hak Ja Han - part 1 Verbal Abuse from Hak Ja Han - part 2 Physical abuse from Sun Myung Moon Verbal abuse from Sun Myung Moon Moons’ use of fortune-tellers Racist theology Reflecting on Heung Jin Moon’s death Black Heung Jin Unethical fundraising in Japan Moons’ admission of Sun Myung Moon’s infidelity

Nansook Hong reflecting on why she was chosen as Hyo Jin’s wife

“I have never known exactly why Sun Myung Moon chose me to marry his eldest son. Maybe he thought I was pretty, a good student from a good family. At the time, that was explanation enough for me. As the years went on, I came to believe that my youth and naivete were the central reasons for my selection. I was younger than Hak Ja Han was when the Messiah married her.” page 72-73

Nansook Hong was 15 at the time of the wedding, as shown in the following passage:

“I brightened a little when we arrived in Florida and Peter Kim suggested taking me to Disney World [for the honeymoon]. I was a fifteen-year-old girl.” page 92

Sun Myung Moon Gambling

“Gambling is strictly prohibited by the Unification Church. Betting of any kind is seen as a social ill that undermines the family and contributes to the moral decline of civilization. Why was Sun Myung Moon, the Lord of the Second Advent, the divine successor to the man who threw the money changers out of the temple, spending hours at the blackjack table? The Reverend Moon was eager to explain our presence in a place I had been taught was a den of sin. As the Lord of the Second Advent, he said, it was his duty to mingle with sinners in order to save them. He had to understand their sin in order to dissuade them from it. Peter Kim sat there for him and placed the bets as the Reverend Moon instructed from his position behind Peter Kim’s shoulder. ‘So you see, I am not actually gambling, myself,’ he told me. Even at age fifteen, even from the mouth of the Messiah, I recognized a rationalization when I heard one.” page 93

Verbal abuse from Hak Ja Han - part 1

“My knees were raw with carpet burns early the next morning when Mother summoned me to her room. Hyo Jin and the others still were not home. Where were they she wanted to know. Why wasn’t I with them? Prostrate before her on the floor, I wept as I recounted the events of the previous evening. It was a relief to share this awful burden with Mother. Maybe now something would change. Mrs. Moon was very angry, but not at Hyo Jin, as I had expected. She was furious with me. I was a stupid girl. Why did I think I had been brought to America? It was my mission to change Hyo Jin. I was failing God and Sun Myung Moon. It was up to me to make Hyo Jin want to stay home.” page 97

Verbal Abuse from Hak Ja Han - part 2

“Hyo Jin did not return to East Garden until summer. Our daughter, a tiny newborn when he left, was by then a bright-eyed babbling baby. He seemed just as indifferent to her as he was when he went to Korea. I was at a loss, fearful for our future. That summer the Moons decided I could not return to Irvington High School. They worried that public school officials could get too curious about the cause of my extended leave of absence, that there would be rumors about the baby. I was still below the age of consent in New York when she was conceived. They did not need their son accused of child abuse or even rape.

I was admitted to the Masters School, a private school for girls in Dobbs Ferry, New York…

One morning the Moons called me to their room. I was alarmed. When they sent for me, it usually meant I had done something wrong in their eyes. I never knew which one of them would be angry with me. Both of them had horrible, raging tempers, but they rarely were angry at the same time. This time it was Mrs. Moon who began shouting as soon as I fell to my knees to bow to them.

Did I know how much the tuition was at the Masters School? Did I have any idea how much money it would take to educate me? Why should they be burdened with this expense? I was not their daughter. They already had to pay to feed and clothe and house me. How much more did I want? She could barely speak, she was so furious. The Reverend Moon said nothing while she ranted. I kept my head bowed, bit my lip, and began to cry. I thought I had done everything the Moons wanted. I married their wayward son. I stood by him even when he left me, pregnant, for his girlfriend. I had given them a beautiful granddaughter. Why was Mother screaming at me?

Mrs. Moon said that Bo Hi Pak’s daughter had received her high school diploma through a correspondence course. I could do the same… I was stunned…

I was so grateful when the Reverend Moon finally spoke up. Those correspondence courses are no good, he told Mother quietly; we have to send Nansook to school.

The two of them discussed the options as if I were not there, on my knees sobbing before them. They made every important decision about my life and then blamed me for the repercussions…When she had fully vented her rage, Mrs. Moon suddenly remembered I was still there. “Get out!” she shouted.” page 128-130

Physical abuse from Sun Myung Moon

“In Jin disapproved of my friendship with her sister [Un Jin] but she could be nice to me herself when it suited her purpose. She came to me once, asking to borrow some clothes so she could sneak out that night. Her own room was next to her parents’ suite in the mansion and she did not want to risk running into Father. Why not? I asked. She told me that recently she had come into her room on tiptoe about 4:00 A.M. It was still dark. She thought she was in the clear, when she saw Father’s shadow in a chair across the room.

As Sun Myung Moon struck her over and over again, his daughter told me, he insisted he was hitting her out of love. It was not her first beating at Father’s hands. She said she wished she had the courage to go to the police and have Sun Myung Moon arrested for child abuse. I lent her my best blue jeans and a white angora sweater and tried to hide how shocked I was by her story.” page 101

“The Reverend Moon would become enraged if our efforts to shush them [the young Moon children] did not succeed immediately. I remember recoiling the first of so many times that I saw Sun Myung Moon slap his children to silence them. Of course, his slaps only made them cry more.” pages 101-102

Verbal abuse from Sun Myung Moon

“I had no idea where he [Hyo Jin] was. It was not until later that I would learn that he had used the money we were given as wedding presents to pay for his “fiancee’s” airfare to the United States and to rent an apartment for the two of them in Manhattan. On his return to East Garden from Korea, he had told the Reverend and Mrs. Moon that he intended to live with the woman he chose. Neither parent made any attempt to stop him. I always believed that the Moons were afraid of their son. Hyo Jin’s temper was so volatile, his moods so irrational, that the Reverend and Mrs. Moon would go to any lengths to avoid a confrontation with him.

Instead, True Parents sent for me. I bowed before them, remaining on my knees, my eyes downcast. I hoped they would embrace me; I prayed they would reassure me. On the contrary, Reverend Moon lashed out at me. I had never seen him so angry; his face was twisted and red with rage. How could I have let this happen? What had I done to so displease Hyo Jin? Why couldn’t I make him happy? I did not lift my head for fear Sun Myung Moon would strike me. Mrs. Moon tried to calm him, but Father would not be appeased. I had failed as a wife. I had failed as a woman. It was my own fault Hyo Jin had left me. Why hadn’t I told Hyo Jin that I would go with him?

My own thoughts made little sense. How could I go with him? To live with him and his girlfriend? I had high school to finish. I was frightened by the Reverend Moon’s fury but I was also hurt at being wrongly accused. Why was it my fault that Hyo Jin had taken a lover? Why was I to blame because the Reverend Moon’s son did not obey his father? I knew better than to voice these thoughts, but I had them just the same. It was my lot to humble myself before them, to take their abuse, and to speak only when spoken to. Tears burned my cheeks. I stayed on my knees, silent before the Lord of the Second Advent, but I seethed inside at the injustice of his attack on me. ‘Get out,’ he finally screamed, and I scrambled to my feet. I ran all the way back to Cottage House, blinded by my tears.” page 107-108

Moons’ use of fortune-tellers

“One morning soon after Hyo Jin’s return, I came to greet True Parents at their breakfast table. I was surprised to see that they had been joined by the Buddha Lady, the Buddhist fortune-teller who had blessed my match to Hyo Jin the previous fall in Seoul. Mrs. Moon urged her to tell us what the future held for Hyo Jin and me. ‘Nansook is a winged white horse. Hyo Jin is a tiger. This is a good match,’ she said. ‘Nansook will have a difficult time in life but her fortune is very good. Hyo Jin’s fortune is tied to hers. He can be great only if he sits on Nansook’s back and together they fly.’

Mrs. Moon was so pleased by the Buddha Lady’s optimistic forecast that she went out and bought me a diamond-and-emerald ring — the fortune-teller had told her that green was my lucky color…” page 110-111

Racist theology

“On March 7 we held such a ceremony [the Eight Day Ceremony for Nansook’s first child, a girl named] Shin June. My diary records the event: ‘...Father said her [Shin June’s] eyes were like those of a mystical bird and that this meant that she would be witty. Westerners have round eyes that show what they are thinking. Easterners’ eyes are dark pools that can’t be penetrated. Father said this means we have a bigger, deeper heart.’” page 124

Reflecting on Heung Jin Moon’s death

“Father walked to the front of the room [this was at Heung Jin’s funeral] and instantly all sounds of weeping ceased. He told the funeral gathering that Heung Jin was now the leader of the spirit world. His death had been a sacrificial one. Satan was attacking the Reverend Moon for his anti-Communist crusade by claiming the life of his second son. Like Abel before him, Heung Jin had been the good son. Hyo Jin looked wounded by his Father’s comparison, but he knew himself that he bore more of a resemblance to the Biblical Cain.

Heung Jin, Father said, was already teaching those in the spirit world the Divine Principle. Jesus himself was so impressed by Heung Jin that he had stepped down from his position and proclaimed the son of Sun Myung Moon the King of Heaven. Father explained that Heung Jin’s status was that of a regent. He would sit on the throne of Heaven until the arrival of the Messiah, Sun Myung Moon.

I was stunned by the instant deification of this teenage boy. I knew Heung Jin was a True Child, the son of the Lord of the Second Advent, so I was ready to believe that he had a special place in Heaven. But displacing Jesus? The boy I had helped search for a lost kitten in the attic of the mansion at East Garden, he was the King of Heaven? It was too much, even for a true believer like myself. I looked around me, though, and the assembled relatives and guests were nodding gravely at this imparted revelation. I was ashamed of my skepticism but powerless to deny it.” page 136-137

Black Heung Jin

“The Reverend Moon was thrilled with the news [of a Zimbabwean man in 1987 who claimed to have Heung Jin speaking through him] from Africa. The Unification Church had been concentrating its recruitment efforts in Latin America and Africa. Clearly a Black Heung Jin could not hurt the cause. Without even meeting the man who claimed to be possessed by the spirit of his dead child, Sun Myung Moon authorized the Black Heung Jin to travel the world, preaching and hearing the confessions of Unification Church members who had gone astray.

Confessions soon became central to the Black Heung Jin’s mission. He went to Europe, to Korea, to Japan, everywhere administering beatings to those who had violated church teachings by using alcohol and drugs or engaging in premarital or extramarital sex. The Black Heung Jin spent a year on the road, dispensing physical punishment as penance for those who wished to repent, before Sun Myung Moon summoned him to East Garden.

We all gathered to greet him at Father’s breakfast table. He was a thin black man of average height who spoke English better than Sun Myung Moon. He seemed to me intent on charming the True Family, in much the way a snake encircles and then swallows its prey. I was anxious to hear some concrete evidence that his man possessed the spirit of the boy I once knew. I was not to hear it. The Reverend Moon asked him standard theological questions that any member who had studied the Divine Principle could have answered. He offered no startling revelations or religious insights. Maybe what most impressed Father was his ability to quote from the speeches of Sun Myung Moon.

The Reverend and Mrs. Moon suggested that we children meet with the Black Heung Jin privately and report back to them on our impressions. It was an amazing meeting. Hyun Jin, Kook Jin, and Hyo Jin kept asking the stranger questions about their childhood. He could not answer any of them. He did not remember anything about his life on earth, he told us. Instead of inspiring skepticism, the Black Heung Jin’s convenient memory lapse was interpreted as a sign of his having left earthly concerns behind when he entered the Kingdom of Heaven. Everyone in the household embraced him and called him by their dead brother’s name. I avoided him and found myself thinking that I was living with either the stupidest or the most gullible people on earth. There was a third alternative I did not consider at the time: the Reverend Moon was using the Black Heung Jin for his own ends, just as he had used the American civil liberties community before him.

Sun Myung Moon seemed to take pleasure in the reports that filtered back to East Garden of the beatings being administered by the Black Heung Jin. He would laugh raucously if someone out of favor had been dealt an especially hard blow. No one outside the True Family was immune from the beatings. Leaders around the world tried to use their influence to be exempted from the Black Heung Jin’s confessional. My own father appealed in vain to the Reverend Kwak to avoid having to attend such a session.

The Black Heung Jin was a passing phenomenon in the Unification Church. Soon the mistresses he acquired were so numerous and the beatings he administered so severe that members began to complain. Mrs. Moon’s maid, Won Ju McDevitt, a Korean who married an American church member, appeared one morning with a blackened eye and covered with purple bruises. The Black Heung Jin had beaten her with a chair. He beat Bo Hi Pak - a man in his sixties - so badly that he was hospitalized for a week in Georgetown Hospital. He told doctors he had fallen down a flight of stairs. He later needed surgery to repair a blood vessel in his head.

Sun Myung Moon knew when to cut his losses. When you are the Messiah, it is easy to make a course correction. Once it became clear that he had to disassociate himself from the violence he had let loose on the membership, Sun Myung Moon simply announced that Heung Jin’s spirit had left the Zimbabwean’s body and ascended into Heaven. The Zimbabwean was not quite so ready to get off the gravy train. At last sighting, he had established a breakaway cult in Africa with himself in the role of Messiah.” page 151-153

Unethical fundraising in Japan

“...Japan was fertile fund-raising ground for a messianic leader like Sun Myung Moon. Eager young Unification Church members found elderly people anxious to ensure that their loved ones came to a peaceful rest in the spirit world. To that end, they fleeced thousands of people out of millions of dollars for religious vases, prayer beads, and religious pictures to guarantee that their deceased family members entered the Kingdom of Heaven. [Click here for an article by the Washington Post which further explores this phenomenon.] A small jade pagoda could sell for as much as fifty thousand dollars. Wealthy widows were conned into donating all of their assets to the Unification Church to guarantee that their loved ones would not languish in hell with Satan.

Members of the Moon family were thoroughly scrutinized by customs agents whenever leaving Korea or entering the United States. This trip [in which Nansook accompanied Hak Ja Han Moon to Japan for a ten-city speaking tour] was no exception. One benefit of her enormous entourage was that Mrs. Moon had plenty of traveling companions with whom to enter the country. I was given twenty thousand dollars in two packs of crisp new bills…

I knew that smuggling was illegal, but I believed the followers of Sun Myung Moon answered to higher laws...I was so grateful to God that they didn’t find the money. In the distorted lens through which I viewed the world, God actually had thwarted the customs agents...” page 171-173

Personal Note: This seems to be evidence that Moon was truly guilty in the famous tax evasion case that put him in Danbury. If you don’t fully and accurately record your finances, doesn’t that inevitably lead to tax evasion?

Moons’ admission of Sun Myung Moon’s infidelity

“I went directly to Mrs. Moon with Hyo Jin’s claims [that Hyo Jin’s affairs were providential]. She was both furious and tearful. She had hoped that such pain would end with her, that it would not be passed on to the next generation, she told me. No one knows the pain of a straying husband like True Mother, she assured me. I was stunned. We had all heard rumors for years about Sun Myung Moon’s affairs and the children he sired out of wedlock, but here was True Mother confirming the truth of those stories.

I told her that Hyo Jin said his sleeping around was “providential,” and inspired by God, just as Father’s affairs were. “No. Father is the Messiah, not Hyo Jin. What Father did was in God’s plan.” His infidelity was part of her course to suffer to become the True Mother. “There is no excuse for Hyo Jin to do this,” she said.

Mrs. Moon told Father what Hyo Jin was claiming and the Reverend Moon summoned me to his room. What happened in his past was “providential,” Father reiterated. It has nothing to do with Hyo Jin. I was embarrassed to be hearing this admission from him directly. I was also confused. If Hak Ja Han Moon was the True Mother, if he had found the perfect partner on earth, how could he justify his infidelity theologically?

I did not ask, of course, but I left that room with a new understanding of the relationship between the Reverend and Mrs. Moon. It was no wonder she wielded so much influence; he was indebted to her for not exposing him all these years. Perhaps all the money, the world travel, the public adulation, were compensation enough for her.” page 196-197

#unification church #moonies #sun myung moon #true family #true parents #hyo jin moon #ffwpu #cults

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therealcalicali · 5 years

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White Lies

The Best Kept Secrets: Ivar, shocks you with a secret. He's gotten someone in the family way. Worse yet, it’s your sister.

Warnings: Emotional Abuse, Cheating, and Lots of Angst

Part II here

Part III here

Part IV here

Part V here

Part VI here

Finale here

Deleted Scene here

White Lies AU - Bitter Fruits here

"Ivar, why are you so quiet this evening?" You asked, eyes full of worry as you studied his expression. "Have I done something to upset you?"

Despite slightly rolling his eyes, he stated that things were perfectly fine. Without even looking you direction, he then asked that you allow him to enjoy the festivities.

"More mead!" He hissed at a nearby Thrall. As the man poured, the verbal assault continued. "What is wrong with everyone around here? Must I beg for drink now? Next time, I'll get your attention with my axe."

With a bow of the head, the old man apologized profusely before filling your horn as well. He then rushed back to his position near the thrones to avoid anymore of Ivar's abuse.

After eyeing your husband a while, you sighed.

Despite his words, you knew something was very wrong. You may have been married for a little over two years, but you could read Ivar well.

"Will you stop staring at me!" He snapped, looking at you from the corner of his eyes. "There's an entire troupe of foreign dancers performing, yet you choose to watch me instead."

"Why are you so short-tempered lately?" You asked, trying your best not to make your sadness noticeable. After all you were hosting a massive feast. The last thing you needed was to fight with the King in public. "I'm only trying to figure out what I've done to make you........so-----"

"So what, Y/N?" He interrupted, cutting off your train of thought. "Listen, stop trying to read my thoughts. Just enjoy the lavish lifestyle being my wife affords you."

You were dumbfounded.

It wasn't as if you even cared about such things. In fact, you had not even been thinking of the youngest Ragnarsson at all when unmarried. He was the one who chose you on a whim during a midsummer festival.

Ivar did so because all of Kattegat referred to you as the "purest of maidens". The one that even Odin himself couldn't bed. A woman who never allowed a man to come close enough to even temp her for a kiss.

Your reputation intrigued all the Ragnarssons. However, it was Ivar who made his intentions known first.

Despite their fear of his temperament, your parents did question his motives. They raised their concerns about many things, including a Prince marrying a farm girl.

Still, Ivar insisted that you had to be his wife.

Surely, a woman as headstrong and principled as you was meant to be at his side. Thus, they gave in. And he truly seemed happy after your vows. Not only did Ivar treat you well, he allowed you to fall love with him at your own pace. Never forcing anything on you.

But now.............

Now, he behaved as if you had bewitched him in some way.

"I wish to retire for the night." You said leaning closer, the pain of his aloof behavior making your voice tremble . "That is, if it's alright with you, my King."

"You will not!" Ivar replied, his gaze finally falling on you. "Besides, the night is still young and you are the Queen."

"Am I?" You asked, searching his eyes. "You treat me like a stranger. As if I cannot be the same woman you wanted to be yours not so long ago."

"You are the same woman. Of that I can be certain." He scoffed with a shake of his head. "Are you not the one that lost seed for the third time only months ago?"

Your heart nearly stopped.

How could he say such a cruel thing?

Ivar knew how devastated you had been since your most recent womb difficulty. You cried for weeks, unable to be consoled by anyone. Not even your mother and Aunts. Yet, here he was, throwing it in your face.

"Y/N, you have given me neither a son nor daughter. Yet you feel the need to pester me incessantly. But why am I surprised?" Ivar added. "You think I am your hostage. But I will prove to you that I am not!"

You fell silent. Saying nothing as you gazed over the Great Hall. If you had to weep , it would be behind closed doors.

After all, if you did so publicly, no one would show any sympathy. They would all side with Ivar and mock you relentlessly.

The Queen who had yet to produce an heir for their God King.

As you were lost in thought, a hush fell over the Hall. Confused, your eyes went to where attendees were parting and creating a path to the thrones. There, dressed in a lavish red and gold embellished gown was your youngest sister, Eiriana.

She had only recently become a woman the previous year. In fact, she completed her rites with the help of coin from Ivar.

As you gazed at her adorable face, you were about to stand to greet her when you noticed something. Not the absurdly fine jewels or the gold crown atop her braided hair. No, none of those peculiar things.

Your eyes fell to her belly.

There was no mistaking that Eiriana was with child. Perhaps anywhere from seven months along if not more. As your tried to think of who could have possibly done this to your unmarried sister, your parents made their way to her side.

Their eyes avoiding your own.

"Everyone, please look at this woman before my throne." Ivar announced as he rose to his feet with the aid of his crutch. He then looked at Eiriana who gave him a smile that reached her eyes. "Come, my love."

Your heart was beating within your ears.

"My, love?" What did he mean by such a phrase you wondered to yourself. “No, it cannot be!"

Eiriana made her way up the small steps with the aid of some guards. Everyone in the Hall watching with baited breath. Once she was beside him, Ivar gently took her hand in his.

To your surprise, she briefly looked in your direction and gave you a friendly wave. Not a mocking one. But a genuine greeting that signified that she was happy to see you.

"I want all of Kattegat.......no, all the world to know who this woman beside me is. This is Eiriana, sister to my wife, Y/N." Ivar declared, his eyes falling on her with a tenderness you had not seen in months. "She is carrying my child. The child of the greatest Ragnarsson to ever live! And though we have exchanged vows already, we will conduct a second ceremony after she gives birth. A ceremony fit for a Goddess."

Your head swam with tension as the Hall erupted with celebratory shouts and cheers. It was as if you were either going to pass out or die from the shock.

"Eiriana and Ivar?" You thought as everything began to sink in. "He laid with my little sister."

You watched as he palmed on her protruding belly, it's rounders that more noticeable due to her petite frame.

"I missed you so much." Eiriana said, wrapping both arms around Ivar's neck. "Did you miss me?"

"Of course I missed you."

"Liar! If that is true, then why did you have me away on the island for so long without visiting? You or Y/N?"

She looked at you as he drew her closer.

Kissing her on top of the head, Ivar apologized and stated that the two of you had been busy. However, he promised to make it up to her.

"Are you lying to me again?" She asked, raising a brow. “You know I hate to be lied to.”

With an amused smirk Ivar replied that he was indeed being sincere. After promising that she could have whatever she desired, he walked her to his throne.

"Now please sit, before you tire yourself."

"Only if you give me a kiss." Eiriana teased causing you to grip the armrests to the point that blood formed around some of your fingernails.

Your entire body was hot with rage and shame.

As she hung on Ivar yet again, you averted your gaze. Still, from the corner of your eyes, you saw him press his lips to hers. You hoped it would be a quick show of affection, however, Eiriana kissed him deeply, her arms about his neck.

"I love you." Ivar whispered, his lips still touching hers.

"You better."

With that Eiriana took her place on his throne as he had requested. With a giddy smile upon her face, she turned to you.

"I have missed you so much Y/N. You look so very beautiful tonight." Your sister practically squealed. Placing both hands on your arm, she beamed at you. "So, did you get all of my letters?"

You didn't know what she was taking about. However you were too numb and hurt to delve any deeper.

"Uh....yes...I did."

"Ivar told me how busy you were with your duties but I had to write even if you couldn't reply" She confessed. "The island was beautiful but it was also boring in some ways. Plus, the family taking care of me hardly let me do anything. They were afraid they would be put to death if something happened to me."

"I.................don't blame them." You replied, unable to prevent yourself from looking at her belly.

Taking notice, Eiriana asked if you wanted to touch it. When you hesitated and tried to decline, she forced your hands atop the swell.

It was heartbreaking and you could have burst into tears then and there. But you fought it. You were not going to give the people gathered a show at your expense.

"Don't worry. The baby is really strong despite........ anyway, he kicks all the time." Eiriana said with a giggle, pressing your hands to the sides of her rounded belly. Almost like magic, you felt the baby begin to move around. "See? He's awake. He always wants to play when it’s nighttime."

The movements kept going as your hands began to tremble. This was a viable baby. One that was too far along to be expelled from the body unexpectedly.

Unlike you who could hardly hold seed for two months, Eiriana was truly going to deliver the child Ivar so desperately wanted.

"Can you sleep in my chamber tonight ?" She suddenly asked. "We have so much to gossip about. Like Henrik's new woman. Kristina wrote that she's Gaul. Can you believe our eldest brother goes through women like that?”

You could hear your sister’s voice but your mind was miles away. If had been possible, you would have preferred the ground swallow you whole.

"Love." Ivar said, his eyes fixated on Eiriana. "We are taking our leave of the festivities" He then looked at you, his blue eyes scrutinizing your expression. "You as well Y/N."

"But why? I just got here!" She protested.

Your sister was quite high-strung and showed no fear of Ivar. Perhaps it was her age or the fact that she was the spoiled youngest of your family. Whatever it was, she truly cared not for his reputation.

"Please do not argue with me." He replied. "You have traveled far on the waters, you must rest."

"I don't want to rest! I want to see the shows and speak to interesting people" Eiriana said with her eyes locking on his. "If the two of you are tired, you may go, but I'm staying."

"Eiriana, I do not wish to repeat myself."

"Then don’t!” She quickly hissed back at him. “And I’ll let you know this. Saying my name doesn't frighten me, Ivar. Mother did it all the time when we were little and it never worked."

You could hardly believe your ears.

No one had ever spoken so rudely to him....ever. Even though you had your moments of push-back, it was never to the extent of your sister. Surely, Ivar would become enraged at any moment.

With child or not, he had proven numerous times that he did not tolerate disrespect. But to your utter surprise, he didn't get irate and yell. Instead, Ivar began to smile.

Pressing his lips to Eiriana's ear, he whispered something that made her practically jump out of the throne.

"Are you sure?" She asked, looking between you and him. "I was just asking Y/N to spend the night in my guest chamber."

He nodded, making her smile even more as she excitedly took his free hand, intertwining her fingers with his.

"Come, Y/N, we are taking our leave?" Ivar beckoned, his eyes only falling on you a short while.

"How could you do this?" You asked, the tears running down your cheeks as though they would never end. "My own sister?" Of all the women in Kattegat, you choose my own blood?"

Ivar glared at you dismissively, drinking his mead with annoyance. After telling you to calm down he confessed that it had not been intentional, however he had no regrets.

"Eiriana is special." He admitted, tilting his head slightly. "You may not like it but it's not going to change anything. She is my wife and the mother of my child."

The words were like a sword to the heart.

The mother of his child? Your little sister?

It was enough to cause you to grab the stack of maps and measuring devices that were on the table and hurl them at him. One of the guards in the chamber stepped forward to intervene, but Ivar waved him off.

"You best control that temper, Y/N." He said, pointing at you. "I still love you, but I will not hesitate to send you away if this continues."

Your eyes widened in disbelief.

"You speak of love after laying and seeding my sister?" You asked with eyes welled. "I may have lost three times in my endeavor to bear you children, but I never lost my heart. I loved you in spite of how cold you grew with each occurrence."

"If you want to be angry, then be angry with the Gods." Ivar said, moving to the doorway. "You are still first wife and I shall treat you as such. But Eiriana is here to stay. I love her just as I love you-----"

"Just as you love me?" You repeated.

"Enough! I have said my peace!" Ivar fumed, wanting no more of the conversation.

“Well, I’m not done saying mine!”

Just as he was about to unleash a verbal tirade, your sister approached, already in her nightdress. She had one hand on her belly whilst the other held her hem.

"Ivar." Eiriana whined. "What's taking you so long?

"Nothing, my love." He replied, his entire demeanor changing instantly. "I was just making sure Y/N was settled in her chambers. She is still first wife you know."

Your sister gazed around, commenting on how well it was decorated. As she was about to say something else to you, Ivar took her by the hand.

"Say good evening to Y/N." He said, already dragging her away.

Sleep well, sister." Eiriana said with a pleasant smile. "We shall have our chat in the morning. It should be fun since Kristina and the others will be here for a visit."

With that, the two if them left and went to what was once your marital chamber.

TAGGED: @alicedopey @lizblinder @ainatirb-j @glassywriting @lyanna-the-giantsbane @justacripple @queenmissfit @winchesterwife27 @john-lemons @queenmissfit @dangerous-like-a-loaded-pistol @november7378 @bravado07 @ivarlcthbrok @inforapound @paintballkid711 @ariascarlet11 @tis-itheapplepie @alexa4040 @whyiminlove @tephi101 @millie67 @tgrrose @julian--casablancas @imonique0 @faintlyforgotten @lilliephoenix @gruffle1 @thewisewolf218 @funmadnessandbadassvikings @lil-lit-bit @dangerousvikings @sallylebecks @lostinthoughtsandfeelings @walkxthexmoon @puddin116 @chinduda @peaches-seed @naaladareia @youcancallmeladyjoker @littletinyblog @tierneygonzalez @hallowed-heathen @rvj5234 @starrmoondaisy @laketaj24 @titty-teetee @deathbyarabbit @retratosdemarfim @ivarslittlebadgirl @ivarslittlebadgirll @imaginequeen @lovingeb @moodygrip @kingbouji3 @captstefanbrandt @ivarsrideordie @artemis--wild @ivarslittlebadgirl @jeowjungkook @readsalot73 @kylobien @cbouvier23 @memememememe1-blog @mblaqgi @thelastemzy @honestsycrets @zuz28 @unicornbaby741

#ivar x reader #reader x ivar #ivar fanfic #ivar the boneless #ivar the boneless fic #ivar the boneless x reader #reader x ivar the boneless #vikings fic #vikings fanfiction #ivar the boneless drabble #vikings drabbles

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luulapants · 4 years

Text

Hale Royal Family AU - Part 3

Based on @shey-elizabeth‘s post:

”Me reading the Prince Harry-Meghan Markel royal family drama:

Wait… I think I read this fic already. (Starts scrolling through my AO3 history)

#random #royalty au #someone write me a steter fic #reading the news before coffee”

Part 1

Part 2

May 2017

Trendy or In-Your-Face? 20 of Stiles’s Most Outrageous Looks

Peter snagged the tablet out of Stiles’s hand on his way to the kitchen, stopping just long enough to tap it on the top of Stiles’s head. “I thought you said you were going to stop reading this tabloid trash,” he tutted.

“Do you think my stompy boots are a cry for attention?” Stiles asked.

“No, but I think they imply a level of masculinity you have no intention of following through on.”

“That’s hurtful,” Stiles said.

“I also think they’re no one’s fucking business but yours,” Peter added for good measure. He stuck his head into the kitchen and called, “Mrs. Larson? I don’t mean to rush you, but is the tea about ready? I’d like to be out by nine thirty.”

When he turned around, he saw Stiles had stretched out long on the sofa, his feet and hands dangling over the ends on either side. “What’s the rush? We’re just hanging out with my dad.”

“We would be skinned alive if we arrived late to one of my family’s events. I think we should extend your father the same respect out of principle,” Peter lied smoothly. He walked over and bent down for a quick kiss.

“Mmm, I love you,” Stiles murmured.

“Even when I get on your nerves?” Peter asked. This had become a standard call-and-response of affection for the two of them.

“Especially when you get on my nerves,” Stiles answered.

As far as Stiles knew, this would be a quiet celebratory brunch, just the two of them and the sheriff. He had opted not to attend his university’s graduation ceremony, not wanting the press that would inevitably come with such a public spectacle. “There’s thousands of other kids graduating, too, and if I go, it’ll all be a bunch of cameras on me drawing the attention,” he had said with a roll of his eyes, and Peter hated that the vultures in the tabloids had already gotten under his skin so thoroughly.

“It’s your graduation. It’s a big deal, and you deserve to enjoy it as much as the rest of them,” Peter had argued.

But Stiles had just shrugged a lazy shoulder. “Knowing me, I’d wear my stupid square hat wrong or my gown would be too flashy.”

So, to make up for it, they were spending graduation day with the sheriff. Peter had expected the man to hate him, what with the age difference and the reporters harassing Noah for information about Stiles. At first, he may very well have hated Peter, but a few blowups between Peter and those same reporters had proved beyond any doubt that he was prepared to defend Stiles with utmost ferocity.

When Peter pulled him into his scheme for the day, Noah hadn’t even hesitated. He just clapped a hand on Peter’s shoulder and asked if he had the ring size worked out.

He’d taken the size while Stiles slept. A parade of elephants couldn’t wake Stiles before seven.

—-

“Did we really have to go somewhere that requires formal attire?” Stiles griped, fidgeting with his blazer. “For breakfast? I’m too scared to eat pancakes in this thing – I’ll get syrup on it.”

“You should try eating with your mouth closed,” Peter advised, and got an elbow to the ribs for his trouble.

The hostess that greeted them stumbled over her words in giddiness. “Oh, uh, your – your Highness, Mr. Stilinski. We’re so happy you chose to dine with us this morning.”

“I hear your terrace has one of the best views in town,” Peter replied smoothly. He had reserved the whole terrace for this morning.

It was beautiful, high up on a cliffside overlooking a comparatively quiet, scenic area of Richardson Bay. He couldn’t have asked for better weather, the fog having cleared already, leaving nothing but cloud-dappled sunshine and a sweetly cooling breeze off the water.

Noah was already waiting for them, leaning against the railing and looking out over the bay with a broad smile on his face that Peter didn’t often see so unguarded. He hadn’t expected to feel so jittery over the idea that Noah was actively happy about this.

Stiles got the pancakes after all, but insisted on taking the blazer off while he ate. They mostly talked about Stiles’s plans now that he was finished with school. Laura had already assured him a seat in the royal family PR department, though Stiles wasn’t sure if he wanted to do that full time.

“It just sort of feels like… like it’s getting handed to me? It’s not supposed to be that easy, you know?”

Peter clicked his tongue and leaned over to kiss some syrup off the corner of Stiles’s mouth. “It’s about time our penchant for nepotism went to a deserving candidate,” he argued. He pulled back, licking the sticky flavor off his lips. The spot was still there. He dipped the corner of his napkin in his water, then reached over to scrub it off. Stiles would be furious if he had syrup on his face for the proposal.

Noah watched his fussing with a nostalgic sort of expression, and Peter couldn’t help but think that he was remembering Stiles’s mother. It made him flush a little, not expecting the kick of emotion that came with the thought.

“He’s right, you know,” Noah said. “Most successful people had someone give them a hand up at some point. There’s no shame in it. You said yourself Laura is interested in the research you were working on – that’s on your merit.”

“And you did promise you would keep working on the promos for the vineyard,” Peter added. “So it’s not like it would be your sole vocation.”

“Oh, because working for your vineyard totally helps with the nepotism issues,” Stiles joked.

“I didn’t say that. I said you promised,” Peter shot back with a grin.

As they were finishing up their food, Stiles’s dad received a call, right on time. “Work,” he said, “I’m gonna go take this.” Then he disappeared inside, leaving Stiles and Peter alone on the terrace.

Peter nudged Stiles and stood. “Come on, let’s enjoy the view.” He walked over to the railing, his heart thudding in his chest as he placed a hand briefly over the lump in his jacket pocket.

Stiles came up next to him, hands gripping wide on the railing as he leaned forward. “God, this place is really, really beautiful,” he sighed. He looked over at Peter. “Thank you. This is, like, a thousand times better than getting mobbed by reporters today.”

Stepping in close, Peter wrapped a hand around the back of Stiles’s neck and leaned in for a kiss. “I can think of something that would make this day even better,” he purred.

A mischievous grin spread across Stiles’s lips, clearly buying the misdirection as he turned toward Peter. “Oh yeah? You’ll have to tell me all about it.” He kissed at Peter’s jaw.

“Well, to start…” Peter murmured, then took a half step back and dropped to a knee. He saw the teasing turn to confusion turn to shock and realization all in the matter of a second as he reached into his pocket and pulled out the little ring box. “You know I love you, Stiles. I’ve loved you since the day I met you, and I love you more every day.”

“Even when I get on your nerves?” Stiles blurted.

Peter grinned. “Especially when you get on my nerves.”

They had talked about it, of course. Peter would never make this sort of decision for the two of them without Stiles’s input. They had talked in vague terms, though: What would they do when it happened? Should it be public or private? How long should they wait? How would they handle the press?

He opened the box. Inside sat two slim cobalt rings, simple but elegant with a subtle, weaving design. “Will you marry me?”

Stiles sucked in a shaky breath, blinking quickly to chase off the waterworks Peter knew were threatening to overtake him. He covered his face with his hands, then slipped them down so they covered just his mouth and nose, peeking over them at Peter, at the rings. He said nothing, just made noisy near-hyperventilating sounds.

Finally, Peter said, “You know, traditionally, an answer is expected in this situation. Some of us are getting on in our years and have knee pain.”

“Shut up, you don’t have knee pain,” Stiles laughed. “Let me feel my fucking feelings for a second.” He wiped at the inside corners of his eyes and nodded quickly. “Yeah. Yes. Obviously. Get up.”

Peter started to get up, but Stiles was already grabbing him by his arm, pulling him up the rest of the way. He crowded in for a hug first, burying his face in Peter’s neck and scenting him. He didn’t have werewolf senses, but he knew that Peter liked the feeling of scenting and being scented. Stiles pulled back just far enough to kiss Peter, slow and sweet.

Off on the other side of the balcony, Noah was snapping pictures on his cell phone. Inside the restaurant, he had no doubt others were as well. They would make an official announcement this week, but the rumors would leak well ahead of then.

Bringing the ring box between them, Peter looked down at it. “Should we put these on now or wait until the wedding?” he asked.

“Oh my god the wedding,” Stiles said. “There’s going to be a wedding. I’m going to marry you.” He was grinning like an idiot at Peter, then looked over to where his dad stood, trying to pretend that he wasn’t crying. “Dad, I’m gonna marry this guy!” he called.

Noah laughed and waved a hand.

“Oh my god, he knew!” Stiles realized, gaping. He shoved at Peter’s shoulder. “Did you ask his permission for my hand in marriage?” he demanded.

Peter lifted his chin. “That’s a trick question, and I won’t respond to it.”

Stiles laughed, then looked down at the rings. “I want to put it on now,” he decided. “I think I’m gonna go crazy waiting to be married to you.”

The words hit Peter square in the chest. For a second, he could hardly breathe. He kissed Stiles again, nuzzling his cheek as they parted. “Come on,” he said, reaching down to separate the rings in the box. One was just slightly smaller than the other, for a slenderer finger. He picked it up and held it out for Stiles’s finger. It fit perfectly.

Stiles picked up the other and slid it on Peter’s finger, leaning up to kiss his cheek as he did. “I’m gonna marry you…” he murmured, a bit manically against his skin.

Finally, Stiles crossed the terrace to tackle his father in one of those all-out Stilinski-style hugs. Peter could hear the sheriff murmuring, “Congratulations, son. He’s a good one.” Then Noah was releasing Stiles and turning to him, holding his arms out. “Come on, then. You may a Hale, but you’re going to be a Stilinski, too. Stilinskis are huggers.”

—-

They drove back to the house with Stiles’s dad, though Peter’s personal driver and a bodyguard stuck close to their back bumper. Stiles sat up front with his dad and spent the whole drive gleefully grilling the both of them on how long they had been planning this behind his back.

Nothing looked amiss as they turned down their street, but the moment the front gate opened to let them in, Stiles whipped around in his seat with an accusing expression. Their driveway was lined with cars, many of which Stiles would recognize on sight.

“How many people did you tell about proposing!” he demanded.

Peter laughed and leaned forward to push on the side of Stiles’s head playfully. “I told them it was a graduation party, you idiot.”

“Oh. Right.” He looked back around at the cars, probably cataloging who he could expect to be here. “We get to tell them, though, right?”

“That’s the idea.”

The royal presence was relatively modest to start with – at least, as modest as it could get with two princesses and three princes in attendance. In any case, Peter hadn’t branched out into his extended family, except for a couple of cousins who lived locally and who he got on with well. His nieces and nephew had come, Laura hugely pregnant and Marco glued to her side, his protective instincts in overdrive. Peter had invited some business friends he’d met through the winery as well.

The rest were Stiles’s people. They were mostly around his age, high school friends and a few from college. Scott ran over to tackle Stiles in a hug the moment they stepped onto the terrace. The staff had done a spectacular job setting everything up in the short time they had been out. Lydia approached at a more sedate pace, strolling up with a plate of hors d’oeuvres balanced in a neatly manicured hand. Peter liked Lydia the best out of Stiles’s friends, though they had only met when she was back from MIT on vacation.

She waited for Scott to stop trying to squeeze the life out of Stiles before leaning in and pecking him on the cheek. “Happy graduation,” she praised. Lydia had graduated a year earlier and was now working on a graduate degree of startling complexity. Turning to Peter, she said, “And thank you again for the plane ticket – it was very sweet.”

“Of course,” Peter agreed.

“You bought her a plane ticket?” Stiles demanded, then spun back to Lydia, gesturing wildly. “You let him buy you a plane ticket?”

Lydia shrugged and tossed her hair over her shoulder. “He insisted.” Then, changing the subject, she reached out and snatched Stiles’s flailing left hand from the air. “Now why don’t you tell me what the hell that is.”

It figured she would be the first to notice the rings.

“Wait, woah, what?” Scott demanded, face splitting in a grin. “Dude!” He turned and called over his shoulder, “Hey, Allison!” waving her over.

Stiles groaned. “Oh my God, would you two shut up? We’re supposed to make an announcement. I don’t even have a drink yet.”

As if on cue, a waiter appeared at their sides with a tray of drinks, and Stiles snatched a pink-tinted glass of champagne from it. “That one’s the wolfsbane,” the waiter corrected gently. Stiles passed it to Peter, then reached for a glass of the yellowish bubbly.

“You thought I would serve sparkling rosé?” Peter asked, wrinkling his nose.

Stiles rolled his eyes, leaning against Peter’s shoulder, turning to Lydia and Scott as Allison came over. “He thinks rosé is a tacky bandwagon trend,” he explained.

“It’s only popular because Instagram models think it looks pretty,” Peter huffed.

“Oh my god, did you get engaged?” Allison blurted, a touch too loud, and every wolf in attendance wheeled around to look at them. A moment too late, she slapped a hand over her own mouth, mortified as she realized that she had blown the surprise.

Peter waved a hand at her. “That’s on us, I let him distract me,” he assured her. Next to him, Stiles was cracking up, face pressed against Peter’s shoulder. Peter sighed, wrapping an arm around Stiles’s middle. He raised his voice. “For those of you who didn’t hear, Stiles and I have an announcement to make,” he called out.

Stiles quelled his laughter, lifting his head and then snatching Peter’s left hand with his own. He raised them into the air. “We’re getting married!”

The next two hours of the party, Peter lost track of how many people they had talked to. There weren’t even that many people at the party, he didn’t think. By the time one person had finished congratulating them, another pair of lips were against his cheek or an arm around his shoulders.

“It’s a good thing we ate before we got here,” Stiles murmured against his ear. “I haven’t even gotten near the food.”

Peter kissed his temple and grabbed his hand, dragging Stiles toward one of the food tables. “Sorry, her future highness demands sustenance,” he joked to Marie, his Winemaking Director.

“I wasn’t demanding anything,” Stiles insisted with a laugh.

“You were about to,” Peter replied. He knew the progression of Stiles’s appetites. If he so much as mentioned food, it meant he was no more than ten minutes from devolving into a whiny, hangry mess. “Come on, what do you want? They made all your favorites.”

“Taquitos?” Stiles teased.

“All of your favorites that are fit to serve to guests,” Peter amended.

By the time he had a seventh bacon-wrapped water chestnut stuffed in his cheek, Stiles had fallen deep in conversation with Marco about his and Laura’s royal wedding experience. Peter hadn’t wandered far from Stiles, caught up in conversation with Lydia and Kira but keeping track of his fiance’s movements in the back of his mind. He didn’t notice Talia’s arrival so much as he noticed the sound of Stiles choking on his food.

He coughed and scrambled over to Peter’s side, hissing, “You didn’t warn me she was coming!”

Talia heard – of course she heard – and looked over at them with a smile. Peter lifted his hand in a wave, smiling sweetly, though he felt as thrown as Stiles looked. “I invited her,” he murmured through his teeth, “but since it was just a graduation party, I figured she wouldn’t make it. One of her brood must have texted her.”

The crowd parted for her like opposing magnets, repelled by her admittedly intimidating presence. Her Majesty wore a bold red business dress, a little out of place at a garden party, but he figured she hadn’t had enough notice to change. Lydia and Kira, even Marco, cleared out to give her unfettered access to the guests of honor.

“I hear congratulations are in order,” she said, stopping a respectable distance away. If they had done this in private, she would have hugged them both, been exuberant and happy for them. In front of this many unknown people, she had to maintain her stoic alpha veneer.

“You heard right,” Stiles answered, holding his hand out to show the ring.

Talia took his hand, using it to pull him in close enough to press her cheek to his, a more affectionate greeting than she had given him in public ever before. Stiles looked elated when she pulled away to give Peter the same greeting. “Congratulations to you both. Stiles, we’re very excited to have you in the family,” she assured him, and the tone was genuine, though Peter could hear the underlying anxiety. No doubt her political wheels were already churning with the potential fallout.

They made polite small-talk for a while. Peter hated talking to his sister in public like this, when she knew others could be listening in. Everything stayed surface-level, unemotional, stiff. It made him feel, sometimes, like she didn’t care about him at all, even if his logical brain knew better. She asked about the proposal. She asked if they had thought about timing yet, which they hadn’t. She offered the use of the royal events planner, which Peter had already assumed was a given.

Then, as if it were just another innocuous question, she smiled at Stiles and said, “And do you think you’ll want the bite after the wedding?”

Stiles froze, and Peter could hear his heart hammering, the sour scent of anxiety spiking.

Peter placed a hand on Stiles’s lower back, trying to steady him. He wanted to snap at Talia, scold her for asking that sort of question in this setting, on this day, for asking at all. He wanted to call it out as a rude fucking question, but he had no idea if it was. There really wasn’t a prescribed etiquette for a royal marrying a human. They just weren’t supposed to in the first place.

After what felt like an eternity, Stiles found his voice. It came out quiet, though, a little shaky. “Um, no. I… thank you, but I don’t want that.”

Talia’s expression moved in ways so minute that nobody but immediate family could have picked up on it. She recognized, Peter knew, that she had upset Stiles.

Peter gave her a coldly polite smile. “We are very glad you could make it,” he said. “I know it wasn’t on your agenda for the day. I hope you didn’t have to detour too far.”

She took the out, turning fully to Peter. “Oh, not at all. I was just on my way to a meeting in the city here. I should probably be heading that way, though. I’m sorry I couldn’t stay longer.” If anyone noticed the awkwardness of her exit, they didn’t say anything.

Once she was gone, Peter turned and took both of Stiles’s hands in his own. “I love you,” he breathed, voice soft and just for Stiles. “I love you exactly as you are.”

Stiles let out an unsteady breath and nodded. He pressed their foreheads together and closed his eyes.

—-

Peter swore, checking his coat pockets, then his laptop bag, then the dining room table, for the third time. Finally, he headed upstairs to the bedroom. “Stiles? Could you call my -”

He stopped in the doorway at the sight that greeted him. Stretched out face-down on the bed, still in his pajamas, Stiles lie with a pillow hugged under his chest, face pressed into the sheets. It was a Stiles position of deep distress, one of the most distressed of his library of absurd positions.

“Sweetheart, what’s the matter?” he asked, walking over to sit on the edge of the bed. He nearly sat on Stiles’s tablet, then picked it up and turned the screen on.

Gold Digger Stiles Strikes It Rich

Peter’s hand tightened on the edge of the tablet, but he quelled the surge of rage before he could snap the stupid thing in half. He closed out the window, then set the tablet aside. “You know nobody that matters thinks that, right?” he asked softly, rubbing a hand over Stiles’s back.

Stiles’s shoulders lifted in a shrug.

“Stiles,” Peter admonished. “Do I think that? Does my family think that? My family adores you.”

“Talia thought I wanted the bite,” Stiles said into the mattress.

Peter sighed. “She shouldn’t have made the offer when she did,” he said firmly, “and I can assure you she didn’t offer because she thought you were only with me to get it. If anything, that was her own selfish hope of avoiding the mixed marriage.”

Stiles rolled onto his side to face Peter, still hugging his pillow. “I hate that I care about that shit. I told myself I wasn’t going to care about it, I told myself I didn’t give a shit what the vultures said, but.. but, fuck, why don’t they like me?”

“Like has nothing to do with it, Stiles,” he said softly, scooting closer so he could pet Stiles’s hair. “They’re just out to get attention and sell subscriptions.”

“They didn’t do this to Marco,” Stiles argued. “Marco wears a flashy pocket square and, oh, hey, everyone, pocket squares are in this season! Everyone go get yourself a new pocket square!” He waved his hands in front of the pillow theatrically. “I wear a tie that doesn’t match Talia’s hat and I’m trying to tear apart royal society with my bare hands.”

Peter moved up to the head of the bed, tugging Stiles up to sit curled against his chest. “It’s homophobia,” he said, not about to beat around the bush on the matter. “It’s specism.”

“It’s bullshit,” Stiles muttered, nuzzling into Peter’s chest. He’d worn a silk shirt for an early meeting with a wine exporter. Stiles held out his left hand, staring down at the ring on his finger. “I’m supposed to be happy right now. I’m supposed to be fucking, like, floating on the air, happy about getting engaged and getting married and instead I see one stupid article like that, and I just…”

Wrapping his arms around Stiles tightly, Peter said, “I know.” He kissed the top of his head. “You think I don’t know? There can be a hundred positive articles, and the one that sticks in your head is the nasty one. I went through this when I came out – you know I did. I don’t read the papers anymore, and do you know why?”

Huffing, because Peter had already told him a hundred times not to read the tabloids, Stiles looked up at him. “Because you’ll just drive yourself crazy?”

Peter kissed his forehead. “No. Because you told me not to.”

A little furrow appeared between Stiles’s brows. “When?”

“The night we met.” Peter rubbed his thumb over the furrow. “You made me promise that when I came out, I would kick anyone to the curb that wasn’t a delight about it. And, you know, the press was not a delight about it.”

Stiles stared up at him, a smile slowly fighting its way through the pout on his face. He groaned. “God, stop throwing my own good advice back at me. It’s annoying.” He sat up a little and nuzzled into Peter’s neck. He nipped at the skin there, just a tease. “I love you,” he muttered, as if thoroughly inconvenienced by the fact.

“Even when I get on your nerves?” Peter prompted.

Twisting in his arms, Stiles straddled him and kissed his lips. “Especially then.”

They made out for a long while, lazily shedding their clothes until Stiles sat bare in his lap, a hand wrapped loosely around both of their cocks while Peter pumped two fingers into his ass. Stiles pulled away with a shuddering breath that usually meant he was too distracted to focus on kissing anymore. Peter wrapped his free hand around the back of Stiles’s neck, keeping him close so their noses pressed together.

“How do you want to come?” Peter asked, voice low. He curled his fingers, and Stiles arched his back with a whine.

“Like this,” Stiles decided, rocking back against his hand and stroking them a little faster. “I wanna come like this, then I want you to come on my face.”

Peter ducked to press kisses along Stiles’s throat, working down to scrape teeth along his collarbone, then finally bit at one of his nipples. Stiles leaned back, his free hand braced on the bed between Peter’s legs as he rode his fingers.

“Yes, yes, yes. Fuck, Peter. Fuck, m’gonna -” His voice broke off as he came with a shiver, hand still stroking the both of them, using his come as lube now.

Once he had come down, Peter nudged him onto his back and crawled over him, straddling his chest. “You made a mess of me, darling,” he purred. “Are you going to clean it up?”

Stiles stretched his arms over his head. “I’m royalty now, I don’t have to clean.”

Peter gave him an exasperated look. “You know, for a future trophy husband, your bedroom talk could use some work,” he teased.

“Fuck my face?” Stiles offered, batting his lashes.

“Better,” Peter conceded. He dragged the head of his cock over Stiles’s lower lip. “Lazy, but better.”

“Lazy!” Stiles huffed. “Excuse you, I am catering to your alpha male instincts. I am alluringly vulnerable. I have -”

“Stiles?”

“Yes?”

“Arguing is for foreplay, and I can’t fuck your mouth while you’re talking.”

Stiles scowled at him, but he opened his mouth wide and dragged his tongue along the underside of Peter’s cockhead. With a grin, Peter leaned forward onto his hands and knees and slipped into the soft heat of Stiles’s mouth. He rocked his hips down in slow, uneven thrusts so Stiles could never be quite sure how much he was going to get. Finally, Stiles tightened his lips around him, moaned, and sucked. Peter’s knees nearly gave out, which would probably have resulted in a very difficult to explain injury for Stiles.

Peter continued thrusting shallowly, groaning and dropping down onto an elbow. With one hand freed up, he stroked Stiles’s hair, tugging lightly and winning an answering moan. “God, you feel incredible,” he murmured. He could feel his body tightening, nearly at the edge. When he couldn’t hold off any longer, Peter sat up again. He slipped out of Stiles’s mouth and started jerking himself over his face with short, quick strokes.

“Fuck yeah, please. Mark me up. Make me smell like you,” Stiles encouraged, stroking Peter’s thighs with both hands. Peter came with a low moan, watching as he streaked Stiles’s face with white.

Before his legs could really give out, Peter shifted and dropped onto his back on the bed, the opposite direction of Stiles, so his head was next to Stiles’s hip.

After a moment, Stiles swatted at his abdomen. “Peter, it’s in my eyelashes. Get a washcloth.”

Peter looked down and saw that, yes, Stiles had come in his eyelashes. “I don’t know,” he mused. “That look is really catering to my alpha male instincts.”

“Oh my god, I hate you.”

“It’s alluringly vulnerable,” he continued.

“You’re literally the worst. I’ll wipe my face on the bedspread. Mrs. Larson will poison us both.”

Peter laughed and sat up, leaning over to kiss Stiles’s lips. “Alright, alright.”

“Lazy,” Stiles huffed as Peter ventured into the en suite bathroom for a washcloth. “Is that any way to speak to your betrothed?”

“I call it like I see it,” Peter called back over the sound of the water as he wet the cloth. He walked back in and found Stiles hadn’t moved at all. He knelt on the bed and carefully dabbed at Stiles’s eyes, then wiped the rest of his face with the same soft touch.

Stiles blinked his eyes open and stared up at Peter, expression a little dreamy. He got that way sometimes, in between the joking and bickering. He looked at Peter like he never wanted to look at anything else.

“You know, there’s nothing I wouldn’t do for you,” Peter murmured.

“I know,” he agreed. Stiles caught him by the wrist, pulling the cloth from his hand before lifting Peter’s hand to his mouth. He kissed each knuckle, then rubbed his face against them. “I’ve been thinking about colors,” he said, “for the wedding.”

Peter settled next to him on the bed. “Tell me.”

#Steter #stiles stilinski #Peter Hale #hale family #sheriff stilinski #stilinski family feels #teen wolf #teen wolf fanfiction #teen wolf au #hale royal family au #royals au #this tiny prompt has gotten wildly out of control #part 3 of 6 #because I have no self control #rated I for I don't know how to tag rated e fics without angering the bots

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katzenkrieg · 4 years

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Loredump: FFXIV Ships I Sail

I have a massive loredump (see link in my bio) I work on updating occasionally, recording all kinds of details on my WoL, paladin Camille Delane, and his journey to date. Just got done with outlining all of the ships both with and without the WoL that I sail so far. (I’m sure I’ve missed some, of course!)

Spoilers through all of the ShB and 5.x!

Ships I Sail:

With the WoL:

Cam/Cid (headcanon) - my canon couple. They got together after ARR but before the events of Heavensward and have been a casually out/public couple ever since. After returning from the First, Cam immediately proposed to Cid. Cid’s accepted, but they won’t have the ceremony until they’ve fished a significant part of Cam’s found family back from the First somehow.

Cam/Nero (headcanon) - They’ve either had sex at least once already or will have in the future. There’s just too much sexual tension and rivalry between them when it comes to Cid--and Cid’s genuinely *not* interested in Nero romantically or sexually, so Nero can’t *do* much with his sexual tension/attraction towards Cid except redirect it at Cam. This doesn’t mess up Cam and Cid’s relationship, because Nero is actually much easier to deal with when *someone* is fucking him, and Cid’s fine with accepting Cam and Nero being together now and then as background noise to he and Cam’s relationship.

Cam/Ardbert (headcanon) - During his time in the First, Cam became increasingly lonely and isolated from the other Scions. Ardbert was the only person he could be completely honest with about his fears, doubts, and growing sense that he would be inevitably separated from his humanity, his mortality, and his friends and family. For Ardbert, Cam was the only person he could talk to at all, of course! They eventually got creative and formed a romantic-sexual relationship, despite the fact they couldn’t actually touch. Cam’s been honest about this with Cid, but if Cid’s not bothered by Cam and Nero occasionally getting together, he’s definitely not bothered by Cam having a relationship with a...ghost that also shared a soul with Cam. Cid’s not even going to pretend he can form any judgments on something that metaphysical.

Cam/Feo Ul (canon) - Cam’s decided that whatever forming a compact with a pixie means, it’s...a lot closer to an ownership relationship than the casual way the Exarch suggested Cam form one with Feo Ul would suggest. After being scolded and praised in equal measure by Feo Ul just about every time they’ve been face-to-face, and having them offer to possibly betray their entire world and lead it to inevitable destruction just to keep him safe and alive, Cam has realized he has an ally for life and beyond, even if that ally sees him as something a bit like a beautiful pet or flower--sweet, fleeting, and never knowing what’s best for it. Though the relationship isn’t sexual/romantic, it’s incredibly strong. (And, yes, I would 100% read/write Feo Ul as the Faery King dom/ming the WoL, so the not sexual/romantic part is only in canon, not in “awyeah, plot bunnies” one-shot and AU scenarios.)

Cam/Unrequited Aymeric (canon) - Aymeric is definitely in a combination of love/hero worship with Cam, but Cam doesn’t reciprocate the feelings. Sorry, Aymeric!

Cam/Unrequited Haurchefant (canon) - Cam would have loved Haurchefant back romantically/sexually if he could--Haurchefant’s love was so obvious, genuine, and no-strings-attached. Cam still sometimes feels guilt that he just didn’t have the same feelings in return. He still valued Haurchefant’s friendship highly and counts his loss as one of the lowest moments of his time as the Warrior of Light.

Cam/Unrequited Crystal Exarch (canon) - Cam’s not aware of this one at all, but the Exarch is so nervous around and concerned about him, it’s obvious to others (such as Emet-Selch and Alisaie).

Cam/Unrequited Zenos (headcanon) - Zenos has no healthy boundaries at all, and his obsession with Cam has a sexual--and, of course, predatory--element. Cam is extremely not interested.

Cam’s Ascian antecedent/Emet-Selch (canon) - They were definitely incredibly close and important to each other in some way. Whether this was sexual or platonic remains to be seen, but there was a romantic aspect to the relationship in either case.

Unrequited Cam/Moenbryda (headcanon) - Cam would gladly have made his interest in Moenbryda clear if her own interest in Urianger wasn’t so obvious. As it was, though he was attracted to her and greatly enjoyed any time they were able to work (and fight) together, he chose not to say anything. He thinks Moenbryda was aware of it at some level, but he believes Urianger never noticed. (Urianger did notice; he’s just never brought it up.) Moenbryda’s death, like Haurchefant’s, is one that still hits Cam hard, especially because he had so little time to get to know her.

Unrequited Cam/Ysayle (headcanon) - As a fellow Echo-bearer, Ysayle had quite a bit in common with Camille--not only in terms of knowing what it felt like to have the Echo, but also in her commitment to her ideals and to her allies. Cam admired her determination, dedication, and idealism, even though they came at a cost to her and to others; Cam’s own motivations tend to be less abstract and more based in his love for his family, friends, and world. He made a few clumsy attempts to show his interest, and Ysayle looked right past them, apparently without recognizing them for what they were. As time wore on, Cam decided it wasn’t fair to her for him to try to distract her from her goals and ideals (though, honestly, he could have done a great deal of good by distracting her at least a bit--perhaps if someone had pulled her closer to the earth in her relationships and goals, she might have chosen to live instead of sacrifice herself!). He settled on continuing to admire her and support her. Her loss is another sharp sore spot in his time as Warrior of Light.

Cam/Urianger (potential, AU) - as of Shadowbringers, I could actually see this happening during their time in the First, but *only* if, for some strange reason, Urianger and Thancred didn’t end up together. It would also definitely happen in the Faery King AU. Urianger clearly is fascinated by the fae and also just as clearly feels like he has to carry the emotional burden of any strange, life-altering transformative choices his friends make, in relation to the fate of the First, so if Cam became fae, Urianger would quickly become fascinated and protective/possessive in an understated way. Cam would benefit from having a mortal who knew *him* as a mortal and also knows a great deal about the fae to help him navigate his new existence and would reciprocate easily.

Cam/Lyse (potential, AU) - in canon/headcanon, they’re extremely close but in a siblings/platonic fashion. If Cid hadn’t been in the picture, however, Lyse and Cam might have become a romantic/sexual couple. He certainly loves her and is more at home with her than with any of the other Scions.

Without the WoL:

Unrequited Alisaie/Tesleen (headcanon) - Alisaie’s grief over Tesleen’s loss, I read as more than the loss of just a friend, comrade, and peer role model/mentor; whether Alisaie ever articulated it to herself or not, she felt an attraction to Tesleen. Tesleen’s loss--the loss of the first potential for a deep love-based same-sex relationship that she represented--will stay with Alisaie forever. If Alisaie comes out and establishes a firm queer identity later, articulating her feelings to herself and to Tesleen’s memory will be a major part of it.

Alisaie/Ryne (potential, headcanon) - Ryne seems quite interested in being around Alisaie and spending time with her during the Scions’ time in Amaurot. It’s quick and subtle, but I could easily see a crush developing between the two, with Ryne initiating the relationship.

Urianger/Thancred (headcanon) - They married (in all but name, at least). I wouldn’t have seen this ship coming prior to Shadowbringers, but boy is it clear they’ve reached an old-married-couple ‘I support his goofinesses and foibles even if I don’t get them’ level of just being around and covering for each other during their time in the First. They haven’t outed themselves publicly to the other Scions yet, but everyone knows anyway.

Y’shtola/Runar (potential, canon) - If Y’shtola doesn’t yet see how much Runar admires and loves her and wants to care for and support her--and show her how wonderful she is, in his opinion--it’s only because she’s deliberately not seeing it--or accepting it. Y’shtola doesn’t have any models in her past for good romantic relationships; Matoya actively pushed away others and distanced herself even in close family relationships, never mind romantic relationships. Y’shtola does the same, even though it’s not necessary for her to do so--and, in fact, might even hurt herself and others. Runar’s going to keep trying, though, and whether she ever reciprocates or not, he won’t waver.

Unrequited Nero/Cid (canon) - Nero envy-lusts after Cid. Cid had everything Nero could ever want--position, attention from the those in power, resources, talent--and then he *threw it away.* And not only that, he threw it away and the Empire didn’t immediately give all the recognition Cid had relinquished to Nero. *And* Cid himself seems oblivious to how much he had and how much Nero wanted what he had. Unacceptable! Clearly the only way to fix this is for Nero to make himself impossible to ignore and convince Cid to tie him to a bed somewhere and finally act like he *notices* how much Nero wants his attention. Cid, however, remains completely oblivious and uninterested. Cid’s one of those people who’s attracted to one person and *only* after that person has taken the initiative in suggesting/establishing a romantic/sexual relationship. That one person is Cam. Sorry, Nero, you weren’t ever going to win this one.

Platonic Yugiri/Hien (canon) - Yugiri views her relationship with Hien as permanent and primary--her service to him is her guiding relationship in life, much as Lucia’s is to Aymeric. It’s also completely platonic and requires no romantic reciprocation from Hien. Which is good, because Hien is...likely not entirely (or at least not consciously) aware of the depth of Yugiri’s dedication to him.

Platonic Thancred/Minfilia (canon) - Thancred’s feelings for Minfilia have been a bit mixed over the course of his life, I think, which is part of why he struggles to express them so much, but I do believe the bedrock of how he feels towards her is familial--as a sibling and a younger sister. He’s probably tried to think of it as or push it towards romance in the past, as that would be easier for him to deal with--and possibly easier for him to devalue and dismiss. Fortunately, Minfilia wasn’t having it, and Thancred has always been forced back to looking at his relationship straight-on -- as that of an older brother who thought of himself as the protector and was eventually no longer needed in that role. Until right up to Minfilia’s final Rejoining with Ryne, Thancred still wasn’t able to reconcile Minfilia’s choosing her own path and not requiring his protection with his love for her as a sister/family and his own conception of himself as her older brother figure; only finally admitting that she had gone beyond him, to places he couldn’t follow, allowed him to accept the truth of their relationship and put it in place in his mind and identity.

Platonic Lucia/Aymeric (canon) - Much as Yugiri is platonically committed to Hien, without any need of romantic reciprocation, Lucia has chosen to commit her life to Aymeric and his ideals. Unlike Hien, Aymeric is very much aware of the depth of Lucia’s commitment and respects and deeply appreciates it.

Unrequited Estinien/Ysayle (headcanon) - Estinien went from anger, resentment, and scorn towards Ysayle to, eventually, being intrigued by and drawn to her and seeing similarities between his own unbending self-isolating ideals and hers. Whether he ever reached true respect for her, completely free of pity or scorn, is an entirely different question. On Ysayle’s part, she noticed any subtleties in Estinien’s feelings and behavior towards her about as much as she noticed Cam’s--which is to say, not at all. Ysayle was very much fighting her own internal battle up until the very moment of her death, and the dating scene and what various adventurer-warrior types around her felt about her was nowhere on her radar.

Estinien/Gaius (potential) - Estinien spends time with no one (except for Aymeric and Ysayle and sometimes Cam…) and suddenly he’s spending almost all of his free time running around with Gaius? Come on, y’all, something’s up. Dish, Estinien.

Estinien/Aymeric (potential) - Whether they’ve been together in the past or will be together in the future...there’s definitely a connection between the two of them. They figure very large in each other’s views of their identities and personal histories/narratives.

Lyse/Hien (potential) - I could see it happening. Cam would support it--Hien and Lyse are both two slightly clueless, goodhearted, very straightforward people dealing with a lot of pressure and expectations placed on them, and they might have a lot of fun together helping each other meet those challenges. They might also get in a lot of trouble--trouble and fun not being mutually exclusive, of course.

Unrequited entire Buduga tribe/Hien (canon) - They clearly want Hien. A lot. Whatever this tribe of Xaela considers the ideal physical type, it seems like Hien must come pretty damned close to it...

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im-the-king-of-the-ocean · 4 years

Note

Galadrilake prompt: Dictatious attempts to give Barbara the shovel talk. Attempts is a key word, here

Barbara pulls up to her house, parks, and turns off her car. She takes a deep breath. It’s relieving to finally be home.

If this wedding stuff were actually left up to her and, as one of the ones getting married, Barbara feels it should be, there would be significantly less of it. She’s already been through the pomp and circumstance of one white wedding in her life. She really doesn’t need the stress or expectations of another.

Yet, here they are. Barbara leans her head back against the seat and closes her eyes. She knows she should go in before she falls asleep out here, but she needs a minute.

Barbara doesn’t want any of this. All she wants is to be happy, preferably with Blinky. She knows he wants the same. They could elope and it wouldn’t change a thing between them.

But, things aren’t that simple. He’s the Elder of both Trollmarket-Under-Arcadia and Trollmarket-Under-Jersey and she’s the Trollhunter’s Mother. As Barbara has slowly discovered, there’s certain expectations held by trollish society on how they should go about their business because of their respective statuses.

In short, a troll named Bagdwella threatened to start a riot if they don’t have a large scale ceremony, and a not insignificant number of trolls agree with her. Sure, trolls generally don’t make big deals of their own weddings, but when it comes to their leaders and public figures (Barbara is still adjusting to the fact that, by being Jim’s mom, she’s something of a celebrity to them), they certainly want the spectacle of All That.

So the second wedding in Barbara’s life is going to be just as big, if not bigger, than the first. On the bright side, since it’s a trollish wedding, that means she doesn’t necessarily have to invite any of her extended family.

Barbara isn’t sure she can handle difficult relatives on top of everything else.

With a deep breath, she exits her car, locks it, and goes to walk inside the house.

A bag is pulled over her head.

Barbara elbows behind her, jabbing her would-be kidnapper hard in the gut. He ‘oofs’ a grunt. She reaches down and grabs the knife she’s been keeping in her boot since her engagement began. It’s a trollish weapon Blinky insisted on that she’d only begrudgingly accepted, but apparently the blade will indeed have its moment. Barbara rips the bag off her head, takes up a fighting stance, and holds the knife in front of her threateningly.

She lowers the weapon when she recognizes her attacker. “Dictatious?!” Barbara snaps. “What the hell?”

“That huuuurt.” Dictatious groans. “Why must you harm me so? What have I ever done to deserve such cruel treatment?”

“You just tried to kidnap me!” Barbara steps back. Up to now she’s had no reason to believe Dictatious isn’t on their side, but he’s doing a very good job of convincing her otherwise.

“It wasn’t a true kidnapping, I assure you,” Dictatious mutters. “I just have a few pressing inquiries that we must attend to.”

Barbara crosses her arms. “You couldn’t just come and talk to me normally?” She tries not to scowl, but fails. She’s tired. She really, really doesn’t want to deal with whatever this is.

Dictatious grumbles, “It was supposed to be an intimidating maneuver to gain the upper hand.”

“Well that failed.” Barbara sighs. “Just, get in the house.”

“But—”

“Inside. Now.”

Once indoors, Barbara leaves Dictatious on the couch. She goes to make herself a bag of microwave popcorn. Only after she’s munched through half of it while standing in the kitchen does she return to her impromptu guest.

“Okay, what’s up?” Barbara demands.

Dictatious begins, “You are to be mated with my brother.”

“That’s one way of putting it, I suppose” Barbara pinches the bride of her nose. “And you’ve known this for months,” she reminds him.

“Yes, But up to recently I did not believe my brother would be so foolish as to truly go through with it. I mean you no insult but you are a fleshbag. You are soft, vulnerable. Certainly not a fitting companion for a troll such as my brother.” Dictatious folds a set of hands across one knee. “Seeing as he leads two trollish settlements.”

Barbara snorts. Like she hasn’t heard that one before. “I defended myself well enough from you.”

“Yes, yes.” Dictatious gestures dismissively. “I wasn’t done. If you’d simply waited until I was finished, you’d realize I’ve come to change my opinion about you.” He takes a breath. “You are, perhaps, one of the most fearsome flesh—humans I have come to know. You would make a fine partner for any troll.” He pauses. “And that made me realize our current pressing dilemma. You see, I’ve had the opportunity to listen in on discussions of other trolls over your growing prowess in the training arena. It seems my compatriots have determined that, if we are to unite with the human world, you would perhaps make one of the most suitable mates.”

“…okay.” Barbara isn’t really sure she wants to know where this is going.

Dictatious continues on undeterred. “That got me thinking. My brother, as well as myself—yes I can admit to it now—aren’t the most combat capable of trolls. I initially assumed you chose him because no other troll would have you, but, as it stands, you have the pick of both Trollmarkets. You no longer have reason to stay loyal to my brother and could easily pick a more desirable mate. Therefore, I consider it my brotherly duty to inform you that, if you should choose against my brother, and break his heart in the process, it will fall upon me to kill you.”

Barbara blinks. “Excuse me?”

“Blinkous is…” Dictatious trails off. “Too openhearted for his own good. Any fool can see how deeply he cares for you. We may not see eye to eye on most subjects, but I refuse to see him hurt. At least not without proper retribution. Ergo, you hurt my brother, I take your life.”

“Okay, well.” Barbara stands. “I’m not planning on breaking up with Blinky, so just, get that entire idea out of your head.” She motions for Dictatious to get up, and, when he does, begins herding him toward the front door.

“Are you sure? I have concocted a few trials and tribulations for us that will allow us to reach one hundred percent certainty and—”

“Yes, I’m sure,” Barbara cuts him off. “Good night, Dictatious.” She opens the door and motions for him to leave.

“Very good. I can tell I am no longer welcome, but, just know, I will be testing you until the day of the ceremony. Just secretly.”

“Fine,” Barbara grumbles. “Will you go now?”

When her future brother-in-law is finally gone, Barbara slides to the floor and leans against the door.

So much for no difficult relatives.

#trollhunters #galadrilake #barbara lake #dictatious maximus galadrigal #the doctor and the scholar #whirls writing #yellowmagicalgirl

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boat-full-of-lotus-pods · 5 years

Text

MDZS Chapter 106. “A Hatred for Life” Part 9

Assembly

Lan XiChen asked, “What letter?”

Jin GuangYao replied, “A blackmail letter. It contained…… all those things, and said that in seven days’ time it will reveal everything to the public. It told me to either take my own life to repent for my sins or…… to wait for death.”

Everyone understood at once. Jin GuangYao would never actually sit and wait for his death. He’d rather make the first move than to sit and wait for the utter destruction of his name and reputation, allowing himself to be mocked and humiliated by the entire world. Then, even if whoever had sent the letter revealed his history of dirty deeds later, all the sects would be suffering from the huge blow of the battle and would be in no state to stir another ruckus over him.

However, fate had other plans in mind. His plan was foiled by Wei WuXian and Lan WangJi.

Lan XiChen exclaimed, “Even so, you shouldn’t have finished what you’ve started and resorted to killing! What you’re doing is…….”

He couldn’t find an excuse for Jin GuangYao even if he tried!

Jin GuangYao said, “Then what else was I supposed to do? Wait until the truth gets revealed, until the words spread far and wide, until I become the laughing stock of every cultivation family, and then kneel down and offer my face to be stepped on, and beg for the world’s forgiveness? Er-ge! There is no third option. If they don’t die, then I will.”

Something like rage crossed Lan XiChen’s face. He took a step aside and said, “And isn’t it all because you…… because you’ve done all those things in the letter to start with?! If you had never done any of them, then you wouldn’t ever have been at somebody’s mercy like this!”

Jin GuangYao said, “Er-ge, listen to me. I won’t deny doing any of those things……”

Lan XiChen interrupted him, “How could you deny them? The witnesses and evidence are all here!”

Jin GuangYao continued, “Which is why I said I won’t deny them! But would I ever kill my father, my wife, my son and my brother if I had any other alternative left? Am I really such a madman[1] in your eyes?!”

Regaining some of his composure, Lan XiChen said, “Fine. I’ll ask you a few questions, and you can explain them to me one at a time.”

Lan WangJi warned, “Brother!”

Seeing that Lan WangJi had unsheathed Bichen and looked about ready to end Jin GuangYao with a mere swipe of his sword, Lan XiChen hurriedly said, “Don’t worry. He’s wounded and without weapons. He’s already at a great disadvantage. With so many people present, he can’t pull any more tricks.” Meanwhile, Wei WuXian had just kicked at Su She, ruining his attempt at a stealthy move. Lan XiChen continued, “Go take care of matters over on that side. Leave this side to me.”

Hearing Su She’s angry shouts, Lan WangJi went over. Wei WuXian knew that Lan XiChen still had some affection left in his heart for his sworn brother, that he still harboured some unspeakable hope for him, and would give Jin GuangYao this chance to speak no matter what. Coincidentally, Wei WuXian also wanted to learn a few things from Jin GuangYao’s own mouth. Thus, he paid minute attention as Lan XiChen started his questioning. “First of all, your father, the former Sect Leader Jin. Did you really use such a way to……”

Jin GuangYao spoke very carefully. “This question, I want to answer it last.”

Lan XiChen shook his head and continued. “Secondly, your…… wife……” He paused, as if finding the word wrong before correcting himself, “Your sister, Qin Su. Did you really marry her despite already knowing your true relationship?”

Jin GuangYao stared at him blankly. Suddenly, tears streamed down his face.

He answered in a voice full of anguish. “……Yes.”

Lan XiChen inhaled deeply, face ashen. Jin GuangYao continued in a low voice, “But I really had no choice.”

Lan XiChen berated, “How could you have no choice?! It was your marriage! Couldn’t you simply have chosen to not marry her? Even if it would have broken her heart, it would still have been better than utterly destroying a woman who truly loved and respected you, who never looked down upon you even once!”

Jin GuangYao replied, “Have I not truly loved her in return?! But I had no choice, and I mean it when I said I had no choice! Yes! It was my marriage, but could it really have been called off just because I wanted to call it off?! Er-ge, is there no limit to your naivety? Do you know how much work, the amount of blood, sweat, and tears I had to put in before Qin CangYe agreed to my marriage proposal? When the wedding date was finally near, just when both Qin CangYe and Jin GuangShan were at last more than happy with the matter, you’re telling me to suddenly call it off? What excuse am I supposed to use? How could I ever have explained myself to either of them?!

“Er-ge, do you know how I felt when Madam Qin suddenly came to reveal the truth to me in secret, just when I had thought that everything was finally going to be perfect?! Even if a streak of lightning had struck me in the head, it’d have been less mortifying! Do you know why she chose to secretly come to beg me instead of going to Jin GuangShan? Because Jin GuangShan had raped her! Not even the wife of a loyal subordinate could escape the palms of that dear old father of mine. He couldn’t even remember when he’d had an extra daughter or two! All these years, Madam Qin had kept the truth to herself. She didn’t even dare to tell her own husband, Qin CangYe. Tell me, if I suddenly called off the wedding and it made them sense that something was off, if it ended in an irreversible fallout between Jin GuangShan and Qin CangYe, who would end up being shunned by both of them? Who would be the one to end up suffering the most?!”

Though it wasn’t the first time that people had heard of Jin GuangShan’s shamelessly vulgar behaviour, everyone present still shuddered in disgust and horror, and couldn’t tell which of the two emotions was stronger in their heart. Lan XiChen said, “Even if……even if you had no choice but to marry Qin Su, you could still have chosen to distance yourself from her. Why must you…… Why did you have A-Song then? And then murdered your own son!”

Clutching his own head, Jin GuangYao bitterly answered, “……I never touched A-Su again after the wedding ceremony. A-Song…... was conceived before the wedding. At the time, I was worried that things might change……”

And consummated with Qin Su ahead of time.

Had it not been the case, he wouldn’t have accidentally had such messy relations with his own younger sister. Now after everything, he didn’t even know whether he should hate his irresponsible, inappropriate father, or hate his own overthinking, over-worrying self!

Sighing, Lan XiChen said, “Thirdly, don’t try to argue on this one. Answer me, on the death of Jin ZiXuan, did you orchestrate it or not?!”

At hearing his father’s name, Jin Ling’s eyes widened as he supported Jiang Cheng by his side.

Lan WangJi’s voice raised slightly as he asked, “Brother, you would believe him?”

Lan XiChen replied, expression complex, “Naturally, I refuse to believe that Jin ZiXuan had gone to the Qiongqi Path that day and hindered the ambush by accident, but……I want him to speak first.”

Jin GuangYao knew that no one would believe him if he continued to refute all involvement. Clenching his teeth a few times, he said, “……Indeed, I hadn’t bumped into Jin ZiXuan by chance.”

Jin Ling’s hands tightened into fists immediately.

Jin GuangYao continued, “But I had never planned for any of the things that had happened afterwards. Don’t imagine me as some scheming mastermind whose plans had never failed before. Many things will always be beyond my control. How was I to know that he would perish together with Jin ZiXun under Wei WuXian’s hands? How was I to predict with certainty that Wei WuXian would lose control for sure? That the Ghoul General would start a massacre?”

Wei WuXian shouted in a harsh voice, “But you’ve just said that you hadn’t bump into him by chance? You’re contradicting yourself!”

Jin GuangYao said, “I don’t deny that I’d let him know of the ambush at the Qiongqi Path on purpose, but it was only because I knew that he and you never got along in the past. Incidentally, his cousin[2] was giving you trouble, no doubt the situation would make life a little difficult for him. How was I to foresee that Mister Wei would just end up killing everyone present?”

Wei WuXian was so angry that he found himself smiling instead. “You are so……”

Suddenly, Jin Ling screamed, “Why?!”

Getting to his feet from Jiang Cheng’s side, with eyes brimming red, he rushed towards Jin GuangYao, shouting, “Why did you do that?!”

Nie HuaiSang immediately took a hold of Jin Ling, who looked about ready to start a fight with Jin GuangYao, and pulled him back. Jin GuangYao asked back, “Why?”

Turning to Jin Ling, he continued, “A-Ling, can you tell me why then? Why is it that even though I always put up a smiling face for everyone, I rarely received one in return? Meanwhile, your father was arrogant and proud everywhere he went, yet everyone was always chasing after him? Can you tell why is it that, though we had the same father, why is it that your father could leisurely stay at home and tease his child with his most beloved wife while I, who barely dared to stay alone too long with my wife, who’s frightened every time I gaze upon my own son, got sent out to deal with these things by my own father as if it was only natural for me to handle them—to ambush an unstable, dangerous man who could lose control of his fierce corpses at any moment and turn everything into a massacre?!

“Why is it that, though we even shared the same birthday, Jin GuangShan could be throwing a lavish celebration for one of them while watching the other one get kicked off from the Koi Tower on the very same day, all the way from the top of the first stair down to the very bottom?!”

He’d finally revealed the burning hatred buried deep within him, not for Jin ZiXuan, or Wei WuXian, but for his own father.

Wei WuXian said, “Stop finding excuses for yourself! Why couldn’t you just kill whoever you hate, why did you have to touch Jin ZiXuan?!”

Jin GuangYao replied calmly, “As you can see, I’ve killed them all.”

Lan XiChen said, “And with that kind of method.”

With tears in his eyes, Jin GuangYao knelt with his back straight as smiled and said, “Yes. Isn’t a death like that the most befitting for an old stallion who ruts all over the place?”

Lan XiChen yelled, “A-Yao!”

It was only after the word left his mouth that Lan XiChen remembered that he had already decided to sever ties with Jin GuangYao from his end, and thus shouldn’t be calling him like this. Jin GuangYao, however, did not seem to notice, and continued to speak in a calm fashion. “Er-ge, you see me speaking of him in such foul terms now, but you should know that I once had high hopes for this father of mine too. There was a time when I would do anything he ordered me—be it betraying Sect Leader Wen, protecting Xue Yang, or getting rid of opposing voices—no matter how stupid, how despicable, I would carry them out without fail. But do you know what truly, irreversibly disappointed me in the end? Let me answer your very first question now. It’s not because, in his heart, I won’t ever be more worthy than a single strand of Jin ZiXuan’s hair or a few holes on Jin ZiXun’s body. It’s not because he went and took in Mo XuanYu. And it’s not because of all those later attempts to discredit and hinder me. It’s because of something he said once to an escort over a cup of wine. During another one of his amorous escapades, these words spilled right out of his heart:

“Why wouldn’t the lavish leader of a prominent sect be willing to buy out my mother from the brothel when it should be a piece of cake? The reason was very simple: because it would be too troublesome. All those years that my mother had waited for him, all those excuses she had fabricated for him in front of me, the hardship she’d imagined him to be in, the difficulties she thought he must have faced—the real reason was no more than two words: too troublesome.

“This is how he phrased it: ‘Especially those educated women—they always think themselves a level higher than the rest, always wanting and asking for more, full of unrealistic ideas—those are the most troublesome. If I were really to buy her out, no doubt she’ll come to the Koi Tower to find me. Who knows how she’ll pester me then? So she better just stay where she is. With her assets, she’d probably still be popular for a few years, and wouldn’t have to worry about money for the rest of her life.

“‘The son? Eh, forget it.’”

Jin GuangYao had a flawless memory. As he quoted his father word by word, everyone could almost hear them coming out of Jin GuangShan’s own mouth, drunken and slurred. Jin GuangYao smiled and said, “Er-ge, see—this son of his is only worth three words: ‘Eh, forget it.’ Hahahaha……”

Pain knitted at Lan XiChen’s brows. “Even if your father was……But you’re still……”

Ultimately, he could not find the right words and failed to continue. Sighing, he said, “What’s the use of saying all these things now?”

Shrugging, Jin GuanYao smiled, “I can’t help it. Even after doing all the worst things imaginable, I still want the sympathy of others. That’s just the type of person I am.”

At the word “person”, he sudden flicked his wrist. A piece of red qin string looped around Jin Ling’s neck.

Jin GuangYao’s eyes were still brimming with tears when he warned in a low voice, “Don’t move!”

The move had seriously taken everyone by surprise. Jiang Cheng roared, “Wei WuXian! Didn’t you say you had disarmed him already?!”

The gravity of the situation had him speaking with Wei WuXian directly and voluntarily. His tone was not at all unlike the one he’d often used in their youth. Wei WuXian shouted as well, “I really did take away all his qin strings!”

It couldn’t be that Jin GuangYao’s cultivation was already high enough for him to create objects out of thin air!

It took but a glance for Lan WangJi to unravel the mystery. “He hid it inside himself.”

Following his train of logic, the others soon noticed a patch of red on the side of Jin GuangYao’s torso, gradually expanding over his white robes. The reason why this piece of qin string was red was because it was dripping with blood. Of course Wei WuXian would not have detected it earlier—Jin GuangYao had not carried it on his person, but within his body. While he had talked, riled up Lan XiChen’s emotions, distracted everyone else’s attention and provoked Jin Ling enough for him to come close, he was waiting for the right moment to cut himself open. While no one was paying attention, he gouged out the weapon from within himself.

No one had expected that Jin GuangYao was willing to put himself through this much just to save himself a way out. Though the qin string was extremely slim, it was still a coil of foreign, metallic object. Storing it within his own flesh and blood as he moved about could not have been a pleasant experience.

Jiang Cheng shrieked, “A-Ling!” Instinctively, Wei WuXian was ready to move as well until someone clutched him still. Turning and seeing that it was Lan WangJi, he then regained his senses and managed to stop himself from losing it. With Jin Ling in his hands, Jin GuangYao got to his feet and said, “No need to be so emotional, Sect Leader Jiang. After all, I did watch Jin Ling grow up. My offer still stands. Let us walk our own separate paths from now on. You will never see me again, and Jin Ling will naturally be returned to you in due time, whole and unharmed.”

Jiang Cheng warned, “A-Ling, don’t move! Jin GuangYao, if you need a hostage, take me instead!”

Jin GuangYao frankly said, “That wouldn’t be the same, would it? You are injured, Sect Leader Jiang. Traveling with you will be difficult. You’ll weigh me down.”

Wei WuXian’s palms were starting to sweat. “Sect Leader Jin, have you forgotten to bring something along? Your loyal subordinate is still with us.”

Jin GuangYao looked towards Su She, who was still being held back by Lan WangJi’s Bichen. Su She immediately shouted in a hoarse voice, “Don’t worry about me, Sect Leader!”

Jin GuangYao also immediately responded, “Thanks.”

Lan XiChen said slowly, “Sect Leader Jin, you’ve lied once again.”

Jin GuangYao said, “Just this once. There won’t be a next time.”

Lan XiChen said, “That’s what you’ve said last time as well. I can no longer tell how much truth there is in your words anymore.”

Just as Jin GuangYao opened his mouth to say something, a deafening clash of thunder exploded outside. Though it was far away, it sounded all but too near. Jin GuangYao couldn’t help but shudder and swallow back his words. The very next moment, three eerie, booming thuds came from outside the temple’s doors.

Rather than “knocking” the door, it sounded more like something was “slamming” against it. It sounded less like the noise of someone hitting on the doors with their arm, and more like the noise of someone clutching another person’s head and slamming it against the doors over and over. As the noise grew louder and louder, the cracks on the doors’ latch split wider and wider, and Jin GuangYao’s expression twisted more and more.

By the fourth sound, the doors’ latch finally broke off. Along with the pouring rain, a dark figure flew inside through the broken doors.

Jin GuangYao trembled, as if wanting to dart away on instinct, but quickly stopped himself from following through with it. The figure that had flown in was not heading for him. Instead, it headed for Wei WuXian and Lan WangJi. The two of them calmly parted to avoid the flying figure before standing shoulder to shoulder again. Turning back, Wei WuXian inquired, “Wen Ning?”

Wen Ning collided against the Guanyin statue with his head pointed to the ground. He was stuck in that position for a short while before falling to the ground with a “bam”. Finally, he said, “……Young Master.”

At the sight of him, both Jiang Cheng and Jin Ling’s expression darkened slightly. Meanwhile, Nie HuaiSang screamed, “Da-ge[3]!!!”

Aside from Wen Ning, another silhouette cut an imposing figure by the temple’s doors—rough framed, ashen-faced and dreary-eyed.

It was none other than ChiFeng-Zun, Nie MingJue!

Like an iron tower, he stood between the train and the temple, blocking the only way out. His head sat where it belonged above his neck. Dark threads crisscrossed across his neck; visible traces of needlework. Someone had actually taken a long piece of thread and knitted his head back onto his body!

Lan XiChen said, “……Da-ge.”

Jin GuangYao also mumbled, “……Da-ge……”

Within the temple were three people calling Nie MingJue’s corpse “Da-ge”, but each one had a sharply different tone. Jin GuangYao’s face was overcome by terror. His entire body had started to tremble. Whether it be in life or after death, there was one man who Jin GuangYao feared above all else—his ceaselessly unforgiving, foul-tempered sworn brother.

As his body shook, his hands shook as well, along with the blood-drenched piece of qin string held tightly by them. Right at that moment, Lan WangJi unsheathed Bichen and sliced down.

In the blink of an eye, he was by Jin Ling’s side, catching something with his hand. Meanwhile, Jin GuangYao felt a lightness in his arm. Startled, he looked down. Only then did he realize that his right hand was gone.

His right hand was cut cleanly from the end of his forearm. The thing that Lan WangJi had caught was none other than his weapon hand that was clutching the qin string.

Blood instantly gushed everywhere. Jin GuangYao’s face turned ghastly white from the pain. He hadn’t the strength left to even scream. He couldn't even maintain his balance. Staggering backward, he collapsed onto the ground. It was Su She who screamed instead. For a split second, Lan XiChen appeared as if he wanted to reach out and support him. Ultimately, he didn’t dare to make a move.

Lan WangJi pried apart the fingers of Jin GuangYaos’ severed hand, loosened the string and released Jin Ling from danger’s clutch. Before Jiang Cheng could rush up to check whether Jin Ling was hurt or not, Wei WuXian had beat him to it. Holding Jin Ling by the shoulders, he inspected him carefully. It was only after making sure that not even a single mark of abrasion was left over the skin of Jin Ling’s neck did he finally exhale.

Lan WangJi had always wielded his sword with mercy, but the situation had been too dire for him to afford any hesitation. The qin string was extremely sharp. In the hands of someone who was trained in Chord Assassination, it was a weapon that could slice through skin and bone like cutting through vegetables. Furthermore, Jin GuangYao’s hands were shaking. Had he shook a little harder or, worse, forgot altogether that a life was hanging in his hands and turned to run with the string still in his hand……Had Lan WangJi not made the decisive move to severe that right hand, Jin Ling’s head might no longer be attached to the rest of him, and his blood would have painted the ceilings red!

Having been right beside Jin GuangYao when his hand had been cut off, blood had splattered all over Jin Ling, covering half of his body and face in red. Stunned, before he could fully process what had happened, he was pulled into a hard embrace by Wei WuXian. “Next time, stay far away from dangerous people, you little shit,” Wei WuXian said. “What were you doing standing so close to him?!”

If the only son of Jiang YanLi and Jin ZiXuan had perished in front of him as well, then Wei WuXian really wouldn’t know what to do anymore.

Not used to being hugged like this, Jin Ling’s pale face flushed red instantly. He pushed at Wei WuXian’s chest with all his might, which only made Wei WuXian hold onto him even tighter. After a few more rounds of even tighter hugs, Wei WuXian heavily patted his shoulder, then threw him towards his uncle and said, “Now go! Never run around on your own again, go to your uncle’s side!”

Jiang Cheng held onto Jin Ling, who was still dazed and confused, and turned towards Wei WuXian and Lan WangJi. After a beat of silence, he said to Lan WangJi in a low voice, “Many thanks.”

Though his voice was low, his words were unmistakably clear.

Jin Ling spoke as well, “Many thanks to HanGuang-Jun for saving my life.”

Lan WangJi nodded but didn’t say anything. Bichen tilted towards the ground. Blood soon dropped away from the sword’s bright, sharp blade and onto the floor, leaving it clean once more. Turning, it then pointed towards the figure by the door, Nie MingJue. Slowly getting to his feet, Wen Ning reattached his broken arm and said, “Be careful……His resentment is unusually strong.”

Footnotes:

[1]: “Madman”: The original term in the novel is “丧心病狂”, which is a madness that implies both a lack of sanity and morals.

[2]: Cousin: The original term in Chinese is actually 堂兄 “tang-xiong”, which specifically refers to an older, male cousin who’s your father’s brother’s son.

[3]: Da-ge: 大哥, “first/oldest/big brother”

#魔道祖师 #mdzs #mo dao zu shi #grandmaster of Demonic Cultivation #novel translation #my translation

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