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seijorhi · 2 years

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Asymmetry

an anonymous commission <;33

Haitani Ran x female reader x Haitani Rindou

wc 3.8k

tw infidelity(ish?), yandere vibes, implied violence, toxic relationships

The idea of soulmates sounds so lovely in your head.

The name that graces the skin of your forearm is supposed to be a gift. A blessing bestowed on the few; a partner born to love them in a way nobody else could ever hope to match.

That’s certainly how it was for your grandparents, for the sweet couple who live down the hall from you.

A shame then, that your reality is far less rose tinted.

—

The woman behind the counter doesn’t ask any questions when you arrive ten minutes early, cash in hand and a nervous expression on your face.

“There’s no undoing this once it’s done,” she tells you, leading you out into the dingy back parlour, complete with yellowed, flickering fluorescents overhead. “And it’s gonna hurt like a bitch.”

Undeterred, you nod. “I know.”

There’s a lone seat in the centre of the room, an old school style barber’s chair, covered in worn red leather and stretched out into a reclining position. Not for ease of access or to make you more comfortable during the procedure, but because once she injects the serum into your arm, the pain’s more than likely going to cause you to pass out.

At least, that’s what you’d read.

No one bothered to sugar coat this. The process of removing one’s soulmate mark isn’t to be taken lightly – the few genuine articles you’d managed to scrounge up had painted a grim picture. You’re ripping away a piece of yourself, obliterating a bond you were born with, or at least any visible sign of it; of course it’s going to hurt.

It’ll be agony.

Jerking her chin towards the seat and watching you awkwardly clamber on up, the woman sighs, “You know, if this is all ‘cause you and the boyfriend had a big, blowout fight–”

“It’s not,” you hasten to assure her, though you doubt she genuinely cares one way or the other. More likely, she just doesn’t want you coming back and complaining if in two weeks you suddenly decide you’re blissfully in love again.

Fat chance of that happening.

—

You sent him a message once.

Late at night, at your best friend’s giggling insistence. It was only a line or two, a tentative hand reached out across the internet.

I know this is kinda out of the blue, but I think you might be my soulmate?

If he ever saw it, he didn’t bother to reply.

—

“Holy fuck, you’re Rin’s girl!”

The delighted cackle doesn’t put your heart at ease, nor do the fingers tightly gripping your wrist, wrenching it back at an awkward angle to get a better look.

“W-what?”

In your defence, nothing about this situation makes much sense.

Your date is lying hunched over and moaning on the pavement, having made the mistake of accidentally knocking into the tattooed blond currently cutting off circulation in your arm as the two of you were exiting your train.

And you’re sure that he’d been about to hit you too, a wild look in his eyes as he’d whirled – only to stop dead in his tracks at the sight of your forearm. Or, more specifically, the shimmering letters of the name etched into said forearm.

Haitani Rindou.

“The fuck you doing with this asshole?” he laughs, easing his grip only when a small, discomforted noise escapes you. That amusement, however, fades when he regards your date once more, “You blind or something? Messing ‘round with a taken woman – one who’s got a damn soulmate at that? You that fuckin’ desperate to get your dick wet?”

Another vicious kick to his midsection, and your date grunts while you watch on in mute horror.

The blond spits on him for good measure, turning back to face you with a wide grin. “Ignore him. Name’s Madarame, you wanna come meet your soulmate?”

In hindsight, the massive red flags there should’ve been your first sign to run.

You hadn’t, though. Partially because the arm Madarame slung over your shoulder gave you very little choice in the matter, but mostly because despite everything, you couldn’t deny that there was a part of you that wanted this.

How could you not?

It occurs to you, as the blond leads you through the streets of Shinjuku, that there’s every chance he’s lying, that you’ve essentially followed a violent, quite possibly unhinged delinquent off to god knows where, and if you end up dead in an alleyway tonight you’ll only have yourself and your stupid romantic idealism to blame.

Thankfully, though, the two of you arrive at a neon lit bar near Kabukicho. Apprehension flutters in your stomach, a potent mix of fear and excitement, and it must show on your face because Madarame winks, holding the door open for you. “Ladies first.”

You’ve dreamed of meeting your Rindou a hundred times before, thousands. Of meet cutes where you’d stumble over each other in a coffee shop, or on a night out dancing with your friends. Maybe he’d track you down somehow, and you’d find him nervously waiting for you out the front of your work one afternoon, flowers in hand.

The specifics were always up in the air, ever changing. The one thing that remained a constant was that you’d recognize him the moment you saw him. You’d just know.

And you do. Sitting in a booth towards the back of the bar, nursing a glass of clear amber liquid, violet eyes meet yours and you physically feel the pleasant zing of electricity that shoots through you as your heart skips a beat.

It’s as if the rest of the world falls away. You’re not sure if you’re even breathing, standing there, softly gaping at your soulmate from across the room. Doesn’t matter, you don’t need oxygen.

You don’t need anything.

He’s… beautiful. There’s no other word for it. Hooded, violet eyes with long, fair eyelashes that sweep along his cheekbones. His jaw’s sharp, lips a soft cupid's bow. Even his hair – blond streaked with pale blue, carelessly pulled back into a bun – isn’t as jarring as it should be. It suits him.

So swept up in the moment, you fail to notice the long legged, dark haired beauty who saunters across the floor and settles into the booth beside him. Until painted red lips press against his jaw in a sultry kiss, that is, her hand slipping beneath the table to stroke at his thigh.

“Rin, baby, I’m bored,” she pouts.

Your stomach flips, the bright smile that’d appeared unbeknownst to you freezing upon your visage.

“Aren’tcha gonna go say hi?” Madarame snickers, giving you a little push that has you stumbling awkwardly forward.

People are staring now. Your mouth opens, then closes, cheeks burning as you glance between the two of them.

You need to do something – move, leave, speak; anything – and yet the longer you stand there under the weight of that bored gaze, the more you flounder.

Rationally, you know you have no right to the hurt that tightens in your chest at the sight of another girl pawing at him. You don’t own him anymore than he owns you, soulmates or not you’re still strangers, and you can hardly criticise him for doing something you yourself were guilty of.

You know all that, and it doesn’t lessen the sting any.

“Shion, don’t be rude,” a new voice interrupts. Dragging your eyes from your soulmate, you notice a taller man with braids approaching, a grin tugging at familiar looking features.

Rindou’s brother, you guess, judging from those startling, violet eyes boring into you.

“It’s not every day we get to meet Rin’s lovely little soulmate.”

You think it might have been better if someone just came up and slapped you across the face instead.

He… knows who you are? Which would mean that–

Jerking your head back to Rindou and the woman (his girlfriend? Lover? Fling?) you don’t know what you’re expecting to see. Cold apathy, however, isn’t it.

“I–” you begin, unsure of what exactly it is that you’re trying to say.

In the end, it makes no difference. He’s already turning his attention back to the girl to mumble something in her ear that has her giggling, brushing you off without so much as a word.

As if you’re nothing.

Something within your heart cracks, jagged edges catching with every breath you force into your lungs. It’s not merely a dismissal, it’s an outright rejection – of you, your bond, everything.

He doesn’t want you.

He doesn’t even know you and he doesn’t want you.

Your whole life you’ve waited for this moment, built it up in your head, imagined it every which way. How it would feel to see him for the first time, the conversations the two of you would share, the life you’d lead together.

Dreamed of what it would be like to be loved like that, unconditionally, unwavering, with every inch of their being.

This is more than cruel, this is the shattering of your very foundations – and it’s playing out like a tragedy for his friends at the bar to drink down and revel in.

Hot, fat tears well up, glistening at your waterline, a thick lump of choked back emotions sitting heavy in your throat.

Making a split second decision, you try to step back, to flee, taking your bitter, burning humiliation with you, only Madarame seems to have anticipated the move, placing himself between you and the door, blocking your exit.

Rindou’s brother, now directly in front of you, smiles delightedly at your stricken expression. “Don’t be shy, now,” he says, extending a pale, long fingered hand. “He’s just dying to meet you.”

—

The universe, you decide, is a cruel, hateful thing.

You’d spent hours stuck at that bar; Rindou ignoring you in favour of the voluptuous brunette on his lap, his brother Ran pouring you drink after drink, perfectly content with carrying on a one-sided conversation with you whilst you sat hands balled into fists in your lap, willing yourself not to cry.

Without a doubt, it was the single worst night of your life, and still, upon returning back to your apartment and collapsing into a fit of heart wrenching sobs, you resolved that you’d find some way of coming to terms with it.

Your soulmate didn’t love you, didn’t want you. That didn’t have to mean your life was over. Plenty of people found love and happiness without a soulmate, who’s to say that you couldn’t do the same after the dust and tears settle?

Perhaps the universe chose wrong and the mark on your arm was never meant to exist in the first place, like a calf born with two heads, destined to die through the night.

You weren’t going to beg for love, not from someone who so clearly wanted nothing to do with you. What else was left for you to do but pick up the broken pieces of yourself and move on as best you could?

That’s how it was supposed to have gone. One awful night you’d strive to forget, a name on your arm that didn’t truly belong to you.

And perhaps it might have, if not for Haitani Ran.

—

You’re burning from the inside out, mouth locked open in a soundless shriek, violently thrashing against the chair’s restraints.

They promised you’d pass out.

Oh god, why won’t you pass out?

—

There’s a mark on Ran’s arm too, elegant script laying out another girl’s name. Sleeves pushed up to his elbows, his arm dangling from your shoulder, it’s hard to ignore.

Once upon a time, either in the days following your initial message or at some point before that, Rindou had looked you up.

(Decided you weren’t worth it.)

You wonder distantly whether Ran’s done the same for her. Whether he cares at all about the girl – woman, you suppose – bound to him, because he certainly doesn’t act like it when he’s around you.

“I lost my job today,” you murmur, staring vacantly off in the direction Rin and this week’s fling had disappeared.

This one had the nerve to throw you a smug little grin as she passed, as if it was some big victory to be fucking your soulmate. He won’t remember her name once they’re done, if he bothered to learn it in the first place.

She, like the string of others before her, will be gone before long, nothing more than a pretty set of holes for him to fuck and forget about.

Perhaps more surprising was that Rindou had also glanced your way, expression tight, the faintest hint of agitation showing in the set of his jaw.

An agitation that remained, even as his features shifted into an arrogant smirk at having caught you looking back.

Ran, having been in the midst of scrolling through your phone, sets it down upon the table and raises an eyebrow, “Mm?”

You nod, “Yeah. One of my coworkers was jumped last night, two guys broke his leg, beat him up pretty bad. Turns out he’s my boss's son, and they seemed to think it had something to do with me.”

“Huh,” he says, making no attempt to hide the mirth that dances in his eyes. “Two birds with one stone, colour me impressed.”

You’re not seeking confirmation, you already know it was them.

Just like when one of your best friends had been mysteriously attacked on his way home from the gym. Or your neighbour, who used to smile and strike up a conversation whenever you’d pass each other in the hallway.

Your jaw tightens, so too does the grip you have on the drink he’d poured for you. “Why?”

“Why what?”

And like a cord wound too tight, the pressure of the last few weeks suddenly explodes without warning, and you roughly shoulder his arm off of you.

“Why all of it!” you cry. “Why you hurt them! Why you care who I talk to or what I do! Why you’re obsessed with hanging around like an overgrown parasite, ruining my life when Rin–” you break off with a shuddering gasp, teeth sinking into your bottom lip as you furiously blink back tears.

When Rin’s made it so abundantly clear he doesn’t want you.

Long, lithe fingers grab at your chin, forcefully turning your head towards his.

Nestled into his side, close enough that the warmth of his breath kisses your neck with every exhale, he nudges his nose against yours, a wry smile twitching at his lips.

“There really isn’t a single brain cell in that pretty little head of yours, is there,” he says, flicking your forehead for good measure. “Why do you think?”

—

Caught between a soulmate who doesn’t want you, and the brother who keeps you leashed regardless, you learn very quickly the kind of men the Haitani brothers are.

Their sadistic, violent impulses of course come as no surprise, but you soon realise that that’s only the very tip of the iceberg.

Extortion, assault, drugs, robberies, prostitution, senseless, rampant killing; it seems there’s no limit to the lengths they’ll go to in the name of expansion. They don’t try to hide it from you. No, you’d go so far as to say the pair get a kick out of seeing you flinch and baulk over the grisly details.

As much as hearing about it chills you to the bone, what truly scares you isn’t the crimes they’ve already committed.

It’s the knowledge that no matter how much power or territory they gain, they’ll always want more. That one day they plan on running this city, and to achieve that they’ll inevitably – gladly – do so much worse.

It’s the thought that you might end up trapped here between them, forced to bear witness as your soulmate warps and twists into something wholly unrecognisable.

—

The final nail in the coffin comes the day you’re walking back to your apartment, and you realise that you’re being followed.

A big guy in a dark hoodie, tattooed hands stuffed into the pockets, an ugly scar slashed across his cheek.

You’ve seen him before – watching you on the platform at Shibuya station a few days back, and again yesterday as you were exiting the 7-Eleven a block down from the Haitanis’ apartment.

And it’s enough to have your blood running cold, fear taking root deep inside of you.

Enough that you’re frantically swiping open your phone, quickening your pace.

The phone rings once, twice–

“Ran’s busy. What?”

The voice isn’t the one you’re expecting; your heart leaps at the sound of it. “Rin, I– there’s some big, tattooed guy following me. I-I think I’ve seen him before.”

You’re not sure what it is that you’re expecting him to do. Rindou could be anywhere in the city, tied up with other, more important things. And that’s assuming he’d care enough to lift a finger in the first place.

Ran would, you think.

He’d almost snapped a guy’s wrist the other night for trying to cop a feel of your ass. Whatever fucked up kind of relationship he imagines he has with you, it’s certainly edged with a streak of possessiveness.

You’re not so sure the same can be said of your soulmate.

Images flash to mind; your body, lying bruised and battered, hooked up to beeping monitors in hospital. Worse – found in a back alley dumpster, used and discarded with yesterday’s trash.

On the other end of the line, Rindou curses softly.

“You’re a fucking idiot,” and the call goes dead.

He… hung up.

Your soulmate hung up on you.

There’s a noose around your neck, tightening with each passing beat. Your heart hammers so violently against your rib cage that you physically feel sick.

You called him for help, terrified, and he’d hung up on you.

Spying a 24-hour FamilyMart on the other side of the street, you dart across the road as quick as your legs’ll take you – barely managing to dodge the car that slams on its breaks to avoid hitting you.

The teenager restocking the shelves gives you an odd look as you scramble inside, shaking and nearly in tears. It shifts quickly when she follows your gaze and catches sight of your bona fide stalker, lurking on the other side of the glass, sliding doors.

Yet rather than entering the store, the man simply grins, gold teeth glinting in the low light, lifts two fingers to his temple, and salutes.

—

Rindou’s waiting at your apartment when you return, furiously pacing back and forth inside your living room.

Wastes no time in asking if you’re okay, or offering up comfort, merely snatches at your chin, roughly tilting your face this way and that until he’s satisfied with whatever it is he sees.

“Tell me everything,” he grits out, and once you’re finished, voice trembling and your nerves shot to pieces, he makes you tell it to him again.

He leaves, as he always does, without a goodbye, the sound of the locks on your front door clicking into place echoing in his wake.

—

You used to think disappearing would be enough.

Rindou wouldn’t care to stop you, and if you were meticulous in your planning, Ran wouldn’t have the chance to try.

You’d leave Tokyo, pick up a life somewhere else. If anyone asked about the name on your arm, you’d tell them your soulmate died before you met him, an accident, or a terrible childhood illness. A tragedy yes, but nothing insurmountable.

You could find another way to be happy.

Now, you know better. As long as those letters grace your arm, you’ll never be able to escape the Haitanis influence. There’ll always be a target on your back, a chain around your ankle, trailing right back to Tokyo and the brothers you left behind.

So you found a way to erase them.

—

“You trust us, don’t you?”

The question’s posed to you by the elder Haitani, perched at the foot of your bed, one foot idly dangling off the side of your mattress. His brother leans casually up against the open door frame.

Startled awake in the middle of the night, you lacked both the time and the foresight to hide your arm from their prying gaze. Your deception – your betrayal – laid bare for them to discover while you slept on, blissfully oblivious.

Now, cradling it to your chest, your knees tucked up close, you eye the two warily. Nothing about this situation puts you at ease, least of all the conversational tone he’s adopted.

Ran doesn’t want an answer, at least, not a genuine one. For all their faults, neither he nor Rindou are delusional to the point of believing that you in any way trust them. That you’ve gone to such lengths in the first place speaks plenty to that.

No, he wants to draw this out, a cat toying with a mouse before it strikes the killing blow. And like that mouse, caught between sharp claws and vicious grins, the only option you have left is to play dead in the hope that your predators soon lose interest.

Swallowing down the nauseating fear creeping up your throat (or is that bile?) you offer a tiny nod. Ran smiles approvingly, but it’s Rindou, pushing himself off the wall with a huff, who speaks next.

“You know I felt it – when you went through with it,” he tells you, stalking over to your bed. His eyes are cold, hard. And it’s ice, you think, not fire that burns in those pretty, violet hues as he braces an arm on the wooden headboard and leans in, “Knocked me flat on my ass, honestly thought I was dying there for a sec.”

As if in response, the skin where his name used to lie prickles, goosebumps rising to the surface.

“I-I’m sorry.” Clumsily, the words spill from your mouth – an impulsive attempt to appease them. “I didn’t think–”

He snorts, “Yeah, that much is obvious.”

The petty insult finds its home despite your best efforts to ignore it, blood heating your cheeks.

Once again, it’s his older brother who jumps to your so-called defence; “Aw, c’mon Rindou, don’t be so mean.” Ran clicks his tongue in mock sympathy, “Poor little idiot just made a mistake, that’s all.”

“A… mistake?” you echo.

The amusement fades from his features, the look in those dark, hooded eyes near caustic as they slide back to you, “She knows she fucked up, and she’s gonna let us fix it, aren’t you, baby?”

“Y-yeah,” you manage to utter, tongue darting out to wet your lips.

But it’s Rindou, lips brushing along the shell of your ear, who hammers the final nail home, “You try leaving us again, and next time it won’t just be some tattoos marking up that pretty skin, understand?”

#yandere tokyo revengers #yandere haitani rindou #yandere haitani ran #yandere ran x reader #yandere rindou x reader #yandere haitani ran x reader #yandere haitani rindou x reader #haitani ran x reader #haitani rindou x reader #idk what else to tag this with #anyway y'all wanted soulmates #y'all got soulmates #<33

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supercap2319 · 1 year

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The Prince & The Fairy Chapter 3 - Season 2

Pairing: Sky x Male Reader

The Winx Club followed Erendor and his caravan as they parked Terra and Sam’s dad’s car in the middle of the road close towards the burned bridge that a drunken Fire Fairy destroyed. They all got out of the car as Terra came up with different ideas for them to try to make this plan still work. “What if I bloom a bunch of pollen and give all the guards allergy attacks? Okay, no, ignore that. That wouldn't work. Okay, no, wait, I've got another. No, wait. This is good, okay. Or, um... No, this is good. What if Aisha makes them all need to pee at the same time? How brill would that be?!”

“No bad ideas in brainstorming, but maybe a breath, sis?” Sam walks over to Musa.

“We’re going to make sure there's not another way to cross the river.” Y/N and Bloom head down the bridge towards the grassy patch at the bottom as Terra continues. “Holograms. What if we use holograms? You and Bloom could create like a mirage and…”

“Can you just stop? Please. My first plan was good. We don't have time to come up with another one.” Aisha snaps as she begins to panic just a bit. The plan was falling apart before they could even try it. Musa comes up to her and touches her arm as her eyes flash purple. There’s a mystical tingle as Musa takes away her anxiety and stress. Musa squeezes in comfort as Aisha takes a breath and relaxes. “It's okay. You got this.” Aisha smiles at her. “I'm gonna take a look at the maps.” She leaves as Sam and Terra look at her.

“What did you just do?” Terra asked.

“I've gotten better at taking in people's emotions with my magic. I just took the edge off her anxiety.”

“Without telling her, songbird?” Sam frowned.

“If she knows I did it, it'll come back. It's okay. Promise,” Musa said.

“Right, it just feels like a really bad idea.”

“Come on. We should help her out.” Musa walks towards the car. Terra and Sam follow.

The river flows gently down stream and Y/N and Bloom travel down there to make sure there’s no other way to cross the bridge. One glance at the very much burned bridge tells Y/N that Sam and Terra were right. There was no way anyone could cross this bridge. Certainly not a caravan of Specialists and their one prisoner.

“Yeah, I’m not wearing the right kind of shoes for this,” Y/N said as Bloom glanced at her brother’s choice in footwear. They’re black combat boots. Like the ones the Specialist wear to fight. “Why would you wear those?”

“Because they were a gift from Sky, and they’re practical for battle. I think.”

“Hmm, right.” Bloom walked closer towards the underside of the bridge and noticed how the legs of it were broken and soaking in the water as her eyes caught something against the stone of the wall. It was a coppery color stained like a murder mystery novel or something out of a horror movie. She saw some blood splatter on some leaves as well. The Fire Fairy darted her head left to right upon instinct. If this blood was fresh, then they may not be alone down here.

Y/N followed Bloom’s gaze at the blood and his stomach tightened. “Damn. I hope Pennywise the Dancing Clown isn’t down here.”

“Shut up. You’re not helping.” Bloom grasped the leaf, ready to pull it off as something fast, small, and black feathered whizzed past her ear as she jumped in fright. “Shit!” They both turned to see a crow fly away from them. Bloom took a shaky breath as she grabbed the leaf. “Hopefully, Terra and Sam can identify it.”

“Yeah, let’s go. This place is creepy as hell,” Y/N said.

Once they make it back to their group, Bloom gives Terra the leaf so she and Sam can determine what kind of animal was attacked. “I think something got attacked down there. There was blood with purple in it. Is that a thing here? Purple blood?”

“Oh, Everything's a thing here, Bloom. We’ll look it up when we get back,” Sam said as he took the leaf.

“Got it. Minor modifications, but the first half of the plan is the same thanks to Y/N. Let's go,” Aisha says as they all climb into the car and drive towards their intended spot to wait for Erendor and the other caravans. That’s when Aisha explains their new plan. “With the bridge out, the caravan'll have to go north.” They park their car somewhere that’s hidden well, then hide themselves too as they wait for the caravans to drive towards them. They wait until the Caravan with Silva in comes to them as Aisha’s eyes flash blue. “I'll flood the transport's engine.” The engine inside the car begins to overheat as steam comes out of the hood as the caravan comes to a complete stop. The driver of the car gets out and curses as he pops the hood of the car to check the damage. “Without Stella’s invisibility magic, Y/N and I had to come up with a way to help Silva break himself out. And thanks to Sam’s abilities of invisibility and boring through natural matter, it’s perfect. Sam will get us the key.”

While the guard checks the engine, Sam comes up from the ground like ShadowCat from X-Men and makes a grab for the key. He glanced up at Musa as her eyes flashed purple as she said, “Wait.” Sam waits for the okay before gently snatching the key away and turning invisible to avoid detection.

“To keep moving, they'll switch Silva to a less secure spot.” Erendor and another guard throw Silva in the back of a more exposed car as they handcuffed him to one of the bars as he takes off once again. “Terra's vines have limited range and Sam can't risk being seen. So instead, we use my water to get Silva what he needs.” A ball of water flies and follows the car as Silva is the only one to see coming towards him and hopes nobody else does. “Timing is everything.”

Riven looks back at Silva and sees the bubble of water with the key in it as it splashes on Silva, giving him the key to his freedom. Riven watches for a few more moments before turning his head, pretending he didn’t see anything. “Then it's up to Silva.” Silva grasps the key in his hand, but doesn’t use it yet.

Terra frowns. “Nothing's happening.”

“He needs a distraction,” Y/N said.

Bloom looks at the empty car. She leans towards Aisha. “Can you pull gas from that tank?” Aisha uses her powers to pull gas from the gas tank as it leaks out as Bloom's eyes flash red as a fire trail burns towards the gas as the car explodes. The car holding Silva comes to a stop as Riven and Dane look back as Erendor looks through the rear-view mirror. “What the fuck?!” They all get out and run towards the explosion as Silva jams the key into the lock of his cuffs to get free. When the sweet sounds of chains fall off, Silva jumps out of the back and into the forest.

Erendor takes notice of Silva’s escape into the woods as they all run back. “Stop!”

They begin to chase Silva through the woods as Dane and Riven have their swords drawn and Erendor has his bow and arrows ready. Silva continues to run as he hears something whistling towards him and he grunts as he feels something pierce his back. “Argh! Ah! Ah!” Erendor shot him twice with target seeking arrows. Silva continues to run, despite the pain he’s in as he finds himself close to the edge of a cliff. Down below is the river. He’s trapped.

“Saul!” Erendor cries out.

Silva has no choice. He jumps over the edge and into the icy water below. He hits the water and sinks down like a rock. Erendor, Riven, and Dane glance down into the river. Looking for any sign of Silva. “Where is he?” They continue to wait as Silva tries to stay under for as long as he can, despite his lungs protesting for air. “He can't

hold his breath forever.” Erendor tells the younger men.

Silva gasps as he begins to feel his lungs ready to burst as he tries not to float back up. Suddenly, another water bubble comes down and moves over his mouth and nose like an underwater breathing mask as Silva feels himself relax. He can breathe once again. Close to where Erendor and the others are at, the Winx Club waits for Musa’s read on Silva’s condition underwater. “He's calming down. We're good.”

“How long can you hold him under, Aisha?” Y/N asks.

“Long enough for them to leave.”

The Specialists realized that they’re not going to find anything just by waiting for him to show up. “Let's move downstream. Either he'll surface or his body will.” They leave as everyone breathes a sigh of relief.

…..

Once they’re sure they won’t return, Y/N and Sam help Silva out of the river as they lay him on some rocks to sit on as Sam and Terra remove the arrows and Silva winces in pain from their piercing points in his back. Once they’ve cleaned the blood, Y/N puts his hands over the former Specialist Headmaster’s back and heals his wounds like he did Sky’s, as Silva shivers slightly from the coldness of Y/N’s magical healing.

Once he’s all healed up, he looks at all of them, but locks eyes with Y/N as he says, “That has to be the most reckless thing you've ever done.”

“I don't think that's very true,” Terra says gently.

“Weren't you here last year?”

“Yeah. When Bloom and Y/N went crazy and let loose evil Headmistress,” Musa smirks at them.

“Silva, what do we do now?” Y/N asked the older man.

“Take me to Magix. Right off the town square, my friend Sebastian owns a store. He helped us take down Rosalind. He'll hide me.” They all get back in Ben Harvey’s car and drive to the town of Magix. They find the store that Silva mentioned. It’s called Sebastian’s First World Goods. Apparently, the people here in the Otherworld have taken a liking to First World objects.

They entered the store where Silva introduced them to a man of 6’0 feet, brown hair and eyes. He leads them to the back of the store as Silva sits and rests while Sebastian goes to get him a blanket. When he comes back, he smirks at Silva, who just shrugged. “I, uh... I was getting a killer Airbnb rate in this place. So I'll expect some form of compensation. All right? Wine's good. Whiskey's better. Don't cheap out.” He sits down next to Silva and points towards his beard. “And, uh, as for this whole hobo situation, right, it's from the '90s, but the blades are still good, so… Just let me know how many bandages you need.” He hands Silva a razor to cut his messy beard he grew in prison.

Silva smiled. “Thank you very much.”

“Anytime.”

Meanwhile, at the front of the shop, Y/N is talking to Sky over the phone to tell him of Silva’s current condition. “I'm with Silva in Sebastian's shop, but I think it's best if you wait until tomorrow. But if you come down after training…”

Sky scoffed over the phone. “I'm not going down there, Y/N.”

“You promised you’d give him a second chance.”

“No, I said that I would think about it, and I have. The answer is no.”

“Sky. Please just talk to him on the phone,” Y/N begged.

“Look, I'm happy you're okay. I'm happy it worked out, and you got what you wanted, but I'm… I don't wanna talk to him,” Sky said, and he could practically see his boyfriend’s disappointed face at his words. “I love you. Be safe and I’ll see you when you get back.” Sky hung up the phone.

Sky walks out of the shed and passes his father as he looks at Riven. “Give me good news.”

“We didn't find a body, so not the worst-case scenario,” Riven shrugged.

Sky nods as he overheard Dane’s conversation with the other Specialists. They’re all around him as he brags about what happened to Silva, or at least what he thinks happened to him. “Three arrows right in the back. Fucking savage. Then he did this sad-ass flop right into the river. It was game over!” Dane says as the other guys chuckle.

Sky huffs as he storms towards him. “You think this is funny?” Dane turns towards him. “Sky! No, we were, um, just chatting.”

“Just Chatting? What about a guy getting shot in the back?” Sky’s anger grows.

“Just messing around. Relax, mate.” Dane touches Sky in a friendly manner.

Sky gets closer to him and towers over the shorter male. “I'm not gonna relax.”

“Okay then, don't relax,” Dane said as he got closer to Sky. “But I think we both remember what happened the last time. Your boyfriend saw you getting owned like the little bitch you really are.” Dane snickers as Sky throws a punch at him and catches him off guard. Sky throws another punch with his left fist and then knees Dane in the stomach. Then he punches him again as the other Specialists watch Sky beat the shit out of Dane. Erendor watches the chaos with an almost amused smile. That same fury Sky was executing on Dane was the same way he used to deal with his enemies. The raw power of a king of Eraklyon. Perhaps there was hope for Sky yet.

Sky continues to punch Dane in the face, hard enough to draw blood on his lips and he probably would have done worse had Riven not pulled him off as Dane hit the ground. “Sky! Get the fuck off him!”

Two Specialists help Dane to his feet. “Man…”

“You let me know when you wanna keep chatting, mate. And don’t you ever mention my boyfriend again,” Sky said as Dane stared hatefully at him.

Sky and Riven pass Erendor as he smiles. “Hmph.”

Back at the shop, Y/N headed towards the back as Silva and Sebastian heard him come in. Silva’s blue eyes looked at Y/N’s expectantly, hoping for some good news about Sky. Unfortunately, Y/N couldn’t give that to him. He bit his lower lip as he looked at Silva. “Sorry, Saul. Um…”

Silva looks down and nods his head in understanding. He looked back up at the Ice Fairy. “Sky will come round.” He doesn’t look too sure, but Y/N decided not to push as he prepared to ask him an important question. “When you were at the Capitol, did you hear anything about Dowling? I've been trying my best, but the Solarian Army, they're giving up and I’m up to my pretty little wings in problems.”

“I wish I knew where she went, Y/N. I do, but we're not gonna give up hope just yet. Sebastian here has a knack for finding things.” He looks at the other man as he nods his head. “Mm-hmm. I'm, uh, I'm like a terrier. But, like, you know, cooler. Actually, maybe a different dog. What dogs are cool?” Y/N hesitates for an answer as he looks down, then back at Silva. “I—so am I supposed to just let it go? Like go back to the school and act like things are fucking normal?”

“No. No, because everything's... it's not normal. You need to remember that, 'cause Rosalind will try to wear you down, and you will forget what normal used to be like,” Silva says as he looks at Sebastian. “Meanwhile, it would appear that Luna allowed Rosalind access to the Restricted Vault.”

“Shit,” Sebastian curses.

Y/N looks surprised. “What is it? What's in the Restricted Vault?”

“Ancient texts. Powerful relics.”

“The good stuff.”

“Mm-hmm. Yeah, she's planning something.

Something big.”

Y/N sighed as he looked down, guilty as his voice trembled. “This is all my fault. All of it. Dowling. You. Sky. Everything that's happening at Alfea…” He begins to cry a bit as Silva looks sad as Sebastian rubs the back of his neck nervously. “...it's all… because I was selfish and I wanted answers. I fucking broke Sky and hurt him in the worst way possible and if I didn’t let Rosalind out, then everything…”

“Somebody else would've, Y/N. She couldn't stay down there forever,” Silva said. “But you're right about one thing. Whatever she's up to, it started 17 years ago. And it started with you and your sister.”

Later, after they all returned to Alfea without getting caught and promising Silva they’d return, Y/N and Bloom found Rosalind in the courtyard looking out of the giant stained glass windows. It was nighttime and the only source of light was three hanging lamps. She didn't move as the twins approached her, ready to tell her the reason they've been holding back.

They both looked at each other as they took a breath. “We've been scared. That's why we've been holding back. Last term we put our magic

and our lives over everything else, and it didn't work out so great.”

“I may have a different opinion about that,” Rosalind said. “You're both the reason I'm standing here.”

“Exactly. And that's the problem,” Bloom said.

“No offense, but everyone in the school hates you and hates what you've done,” Y/N said.

“Ah. The displeasure of the masses. Do you know what happens if you listen to them? The mob?” Rosalind looks to them for an answer to her question. They remained silent as she continued. “Nothing. Nothing happens. Nothing of any significance, anyway. Everyone gets fat and happy. The world grinds to a halt.” She walks away from them towards a bench. “Or they get slaughtered.”

“That's bleak and harsh, don't you think?” Y/N asked.

“That's life. The reality is, I don't care that people hate me. I don't care what they think. That's how I get shit done,” Rosalind said, as she sat on the stone bench and looked at the younger Fairies.

“You care about something,” Bloom said.

“Oh, what’s that?”

“You care about us. We don't wanna hold back anymore.” Y/N looks at her as she smiles. “Excellent, tomorrow we start your lessons in the second term of transformation magic.”

“What‘s that?”

“Charmix.”

Y/N walks toward the Bastion training area. The wet grass clung to his shoes as he walked towards the light of the outdoor flashlight. The wind blew a little chilly air, but that’s one good thing about an Ice Fairy. The cold never bothered him, anyway. As he got closer, he saw the fair hair of his boyfriend as he spun his swords in the air, slashing fiercely as he cut through the night wind.

Riven had told him that Sky was doing some intense training, but he didn’t mention that he was like this. Every swing of his sword; Y/N could practically feel the fury from his current position. Each strike and stab had a purpose, as whatever seemed to be fueling Sky kept at it as he glided with his weapons. The young prince spun his swords in the air as he slammed them on the ground and threw two knives from the back of his armor, and towards the setup targets. It hit a bullseye.

Sweat glistened down Sky’s face as he was breathing heavily and he looked at the target he just hit. Thinking about Silva, his father, all of it left him an angry mess of energy. Sky sighed as his shoulders relaxed. “You’re supposed to be in bed….”

Y/N tried not to blush as he was caught in the act of staring at his boyfriend’s little angry moment. He walks towards him. “I couldn’t sleep. I was worried about you.”

“Well, I’m fine, Y/N. Don’t you have a curfew?” Sky turned towards his boyfriend as he wiped the sweat from his forehead. “I actually got special permission from our headmistress to come out here and find you. You?”

“Same. Erendor permitted me to be out here for late-night training.”

Y/N nods as he looks at the target with two knives embedded into it. “Wow, you’re pretty tough when your opponent can’t fight back.” Sky gives a humorless chuckle as he grabs his knives and puts them back in their sheaths. He turns and sees Y/N holding two ice daggers.

“What the fuck are you doing, Baby boy?” Sky asked, confused.

Y/N smirks. “Giving you a moving opponent, of course.” He flips a dagger in his hand as he charges forward and takes a stab at Sky, who jumps back in reflex.

He looks at him in shock.“Y/N, stop it!”

“No, you stop it. You want to be angry at someone, Blue Eyes? Be angry at me.” He spun in a circle and swung his knife horizontally across at the Prince as he moved back and grabbed his sword from his back and held it up to shield himself from Y/N’s other dagger. Sky pushed back against him as their weapons broke away from each other, as Sky grabbed Y/N’s right hand and hit it with his elbow as Y/N dropped the right dagger onto the floor. The younger male charged and jumped as he took a swipe at Sky’s head as he ducked and moved behind him and kicked his back as the Ice Fairy stumbled before turning around and sending his arm and weapon forward as Sky stepped to the side, knocked his other weapon from his hand before pulling forward and threw him over his shoulder and flipped his boyfriend on his back.

Y/N groaned as Sky roughly straddled his hips, a fury and a pissed off look on his face as he was panting heavily. “Don’t. Ever. Do that. Again.” Sky practically growls out and Y/N’s cock totally did not twitch at his boyfriend’s deep and husky voice. “Y-Y-Yes, Sir..." Y/N whispered, a voice coated with lust. Sir? Where the fuck did that come from? Sky was just as surprised with the turn of events, and he smirked. “You like it when I take control, huh?" Sky purred, as he leaned forward, his lips so close to the Ice Fairy’s. A quick nod was all Y/N could muster before their lips smashed together. A heated kiss.

The Peters boy moaned against Sky as he pulled on his bottom lip with his teeth and Y/N easily opened up as Sky stuck his tongue into his mouth and explored his cavern. Y/N linked his fingers in Sky’s golden locks as they continued their kiss, but pulled back before any clothes could come off.

“Wow, rough kissing is hot. I think I should bring out this side of you more often,” Y/N whispered as Sky chuckled softly.

Sky gets off his boyfriend and helps him to his feet as he puts away the training targets in the Specialist warehouse of weapons and equipment. Once he’s locked the shed, they both head towards the school. “So, does this mean I can ask what the hell all that was about? How you tried to kill me.”

Y/N rolled his eyes. “Please, I was on my back in less than 10 seconds, in more ways than one.” He smirks. Sky gives him a look as the Ice Fairy sighed. “Okay, fine. Riven told me what you did to Dane, and I'm not saying that he didn't deserve to be knocked down on the pecking order, but still, since when do you fight with your fists instead of your words? This isn't like you.”

“Did it ever occur to you that this was always me? Someone who is ruthless and doesn't take shit from anyone. Not this posh, mild-mannered little prince soldier golden boy who wouldn't dare disobey the rules,” Sky said.

They turned a corner in the hallway towards the main corridor; their feet echoing off the walls. “If I don't know you, Sky, then no one does. This isn't the guy who gave me my necklace or the person I gave my virginity to. I know you're nothing like Erendor.”

Before Sky can say anything about it, they hear someone scream. It's Stella. They run toward the sound as they see Stella and Beatrix helping a bleeding student. It's one of the missing Fairy students. It's Devin. When Stella sees them, she looks scared. “Sky, Y/N, help us.”

Y/N kneels down at Devin’s level and tries to heal him. “Oh, my God. What happened to you?” Devin’s eyes are unfocused and barely open as his breathing is ragged and shallow. He looks at Y/N as the Ice Fairy realizes his magic isn't healing him.

“Rosalind…” Devin chokes out as he slumps forward into Y/N’s arms into unconsciousness.

#x male reader #male reader insert #male x male #sky fate the winx saga #danny griffin #danny griffin x male reader #sky of eraklyon #fate the winx saga #fate the winx club #ice fairy #ice magic

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meowmeow-motherfucker · 2 months

Text

The Fox & the Squirrel- Chapter 18

Summary: Chasing yet another demon in a long line of hunts, the Winchesters get help from an unlikely source. But their new recruit isn’t exactly who she says she is. Savannah is used to looking over her shoulder. Life in hiding doesn’t leave much room for enjoyment, but traveling with the Winchesters just may give her a new lease on life.

Fic pairing: Dean Winchester/OFC Savannah Hart

Trigger warnings: elements of horror and witchcraft, references to past torture/trauma, Crowley is a dick, lies and deception, mutual pining, flirting, sex, typical Winchester shenanigans.

Read it on AO3 here: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16242644/chapters/37972217

It had been two weeks and neither of them had talked about The Incident™. Whatever had spurred Dean to action back in Milwaukee seemed to have disappeared, and Savannah was frustrated. She was trying so hard to be good, and not use her power to coerce Dean to touch her again, but he seemed determined to pretend The Incident™ had never happened. At least that’s what she’d thought, until she caught him staring at her chest.

“Dean?”

“Yeah?”

“My eyes are up here.” Savannah chuckled. Her clothing choice must have caught his attention, just like she’d hoped it would. Thank goodness Sam had gone out to get breakfast. Their hotel might have a kitchenette this time round, but mornings were still rough for them all. Savannah had thrown together a quick hashbrown casserole for dinner with the meager groceries they’d gotten from the convenience store down the street, and Dean was tidying up the dishes they’d left out overnight in their exhaustion.

“Sorry! Sorry,” Dean turned away from her in a flash. “I’m not fully awake yet and I was zoning out. I wasn’t trying to stare.”

“It’s okay.”

“You want me to stare?”

“You can do more than that. If you want.” Savannah offered, her eyes never wavering from Dean’s. Dean dropped the dish towel from his hands, turned off the faucet, and stepped into her space, pulling her toward him with an arm around her waist. He sat on the edge of the bed and pulled her with him, laying her on her back beside him.

“You sure about that?” he asked.

“Positive.” Savannah curled her fingers around his wrists as she guided his large hands to her breasts. She let her head fall back on the bed at the relief his touch brought.

“Aw geez.” Dean groaned as he squeezed her breasts gently.

“What?” Savannah looked up at him questioningly.

“They’re the perfect size for my hands.”

“Oh! I thought something was wrong. You’re a weirdo.” Savannah laughed.

“I’m giving you a compliment and you’re laughing at me?”

“Yep.”

“Rude,” Dean sighed. “Guess I’ll have to earn your gratitude. May I?” he asked, eyes darting down to the expanse of skin her rising shirt had exposed. Savannah gulped, nervous and excited at the same time. Dean’s green eyes met hers, as if he sensed her hesitation. At her nod, his nimble fingers made quick work of the buttons, letting the material fall to either side of her body and leaving her in her tank top.

“Still okay?” Dean asked, waiting for her nod before grazing his thumbs over her nipples through the fabric of her tank top. Savannah bit her lip as the sensation sent shocks through her. Aware that Sam could return at any time, Dean chose not to remove her shirt and simply pulled her tank top down to let her breasts spill out. “Beautiful,” He muttered to himself. “No one’s ever done this for you?” he asked, lightly pinching a nipple between his fingers.

“N-no,” Savannah replied as his other hand groped and massaged her breast. “You’re the first.”

“Well I’ll be damned. It must be my lucky day,” Dean groaned as he pressed her tits together, caressing her sensitive skin lovingly with his thumbs. “So pretty. Can I?”

“Can you what?” Savannah giggled. “Dean, you’re the one that knows what they’re doing here. This is pretty much your show, so…I guess you do whatever you want and I’ll let you know if I need to stop.”

“God damn, I’m a lucky bastard.” Dean wasted no time in burying his face in Savannah’s chest, licking and nipping at her skin as she laughed. It was different, Savannah thought. It tickled but also boosted the flame growing in her belly. She actually enjoyed Dean’s weight on top of her and didn’t want him to move. She trusted him to make her feel pleasure instead of pain. Is this what it was supposed to be like?

She squeaked when Dean took a nipple into his mouth, but that quickly gave way to a moan as he tweaked her other nipple with his fingers and she caught herself writhing under him. He hummed appreciatively, and held her still with a hand on her waist as he licked her other nipple into his mouth, suckling with an intensity that had her whining needfully.

“You know what I don’t get?” Dean asked suddenly, her breast falling from his mouth with a wet pop.

“What?” Savannah asked breathlessly. Damn him for stopping! Her body was on fire and her core ached.

“Some guys don’t take the time to play with a woman’s breasts. I mean, I like to get to the main event as much as the next guy, but only an idiot would ignore a woman’s breasts, especially ones as sensitive as these beauties. Play your cards right, and you’ll have a girl begging for more,” Dean said as he blew gently on her wet nipple, making her squirm. “Simple, but so effective. Isn’t it?” he asked, grinning when Savannah whimpered.

“You’re an ass.” She muttered.

“And here I thought you were enjoying yourself,” Dean smirked. “You want me to stop?”

“Please don’t.”

“Didn’t think so. I bet you’re soaked. Aren’t you, sweetheart?” Dean purred.

“I don't know. Maybe you should check.” Savannah teased. Dean's tongue did something to her nipple, and he chuckled against her skin when she arched up into him.

“Oh I will,” Dean promised darkly, his fingers making quick work of the fly of her jeans. Both of his hands left her to pull her jeans down past her ass. “Well, well, well,” he chuckled as her satin panties came into his view. “Are these for me?” His fingers danced along her thighs, green eyes darting up to hers to check on her. “Doing okay?” He asked. Savannah nodded, eyes zeroed in on his fingers on her skin.

“Please keep going.” She pleaded, sighing when a finger landed on her clit, gently rubbing her through the soft material of her panties. She keened, thighs quivering around his hand as he increased the pressure on her clit and rubbed faster. He grinned as her entire body stiffened under his attention, and he eased off, deftly slipping his fingers inside her panties to tease her entrance.

“Still okay?” Savannah nodded frantically, panting as she chased his lips with hers. He slipped a finger inside her tight heat as their lips met, cradling her neck in his hand as he worked her G-spot. She moaned into his mouth as deep-seated pleasure throbbed throughout her body, one hand fisting his shirt at his back and the other the bed covers when he added a second finger.

“Fuuuuuck!” she whimpered when he sped up his onslaught, all the muscles in her body tensing.

“Doin’ so good, sweetheart,” Dean praised. “You just wait til we get some uninterrupted time. Wanna see all of you and make you fall apart.”

“Why not...now?” Savannah asked breathlessly.

“Well for one, Sammy’s due back any minute,” Dean replied. “And I’m not sure you’re ready for all the dirty things I wanna do to you.” He nudged her head to the side, sinking his teeth into her neck. Savannah squealed at the sensation, squirming in his grasp and making him pull back. “You’re about to come, aren’t you? I can feel it,” He dropped a kiss on her lips, frowning when she tensed up. “Relax, baby. Don’t fight it, just let go. I got you.”

“Please kiss me.” She begged, tugging at his flannel to bring his mouth down to hers. Her orgasm exploded as Dean’s lips pressed against hers, and she moved her hand to cup the back of his neck as she writhed under him. He nipped at her bottom lip and she dug her nails into him as she moaned into his mouth.

She could feel his length, burning hot and hard as steel, against her thigh as he worked her through her orgasm. Dean dropped his weight on the bed, cradling her head in the crook of his arm as he dotted kisses on her flushed skin. His hand was still working, thumb rubbing slow circles on her clit that made her eyes roll back. Dean sank two fingers back inside her throbbing sex and pressed against her G-spot, huffing a soft laugh against her skin when she mewled.

“Yeah? You enjoying yourself?” he asked. Savannah keened when his thumb pressed harder on her clit, sending sparks through her body. She wanted to answer, but all she could muster was a nod. Dean chuckled as she kissed him, fingers digging into his shoulders as he teased and pinched her over-sensitive clit. “I’d love to keep you like this. So gorgeous.” he praised.

“What...about you?” Savannah managed to form words, running her fingers through his soft hair as she stared up at him. Dean pursed his lips, seeming to weigh his options. His green eyes darted to the door when the roar of the Impala’s engine met his ears.

“Maybe next time, beautiful. We’re out of time,” Dean captured her lips in a swift kiss and got to his feet, pulling her up when she reached for him. “You good?” he teased when she needed to anchor herself with his arm.

“Just a little light-headed,” she snickered. “I’ll be fine.”

“Good. Bathroom’s that way, unless you want Sam to see you.” Dean joked, playfully steering her toward the small bathroom.

“But what about-” Savannah’s eyes dropped to his groin, where his erection was still plainly visible. Dean grinned, giving her a quick kiss to derail her train of thought.

“I’ll live. This was about you,” he said. Savannah opened her mouth to argue, but the gentle swat to her backside made her forget what she’d planned to say. “Go’on, get.” Dean shooed her, turning back to the dishes in the sink.

Savannah watched him adjust himself in his jeans before ducking into the bathroom. She heard Sam come in, and heard the brothers bantering as she cleaned herself up.

What the hell had just happened? Was Dean really okay with denying himself? She’d never known a man to do that before.

Part of her felt he was just being kind, considerate of both her bad experiences and lack of knowledge. The other part of her wondered if he was toying with her, waiting until her guard was down to strike.

Don’t be ridiculous. She coached herself. This was Dean . He’d had ample opportunity to take advantage and hadn’t. She was being paranoid. Besides, they couldn't very well be...intimate with Sam in the room.

Shaking her head to rid herself of negative thoughts, Savannah left the bathroom and joined the brothers to eat, content to sit and listen to them bicker about their next case.

#meowmeow writes #dean winchester #supernatural #supernatural fanfiction #supernatural fic #the fox & the squirrel

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goddesspharo · 1 year

Note

top five fic titles you haven't used yet; top five worst adaptations or reboots

ask me my top fives!

top five unused fic titles:

click the pieces into sharp arrangements

what would an angel say? (the devil wants to know)

memories are films about ghosts

searching through thrift store jungles

your stories ring of perjury

top five worst adaptations/reboots(/remakes):

Going with the first few things that pop into my head.

I think most reboots/remakes of horror movies from the 80s are bad and unnecessary. Sometimes it’s because the original isn’t great - Prom Night (1980) is not my jam; Prom Night (2008) is somehow worse! Sometimes it’s because the original is good enough that it doesn’t need a remake, especially one so subpar - Brian De Palma’s Carrie (1976) vs Carrie (2013); Black Christmas (1974) is great so what the hell happened with Black Christmas (2006, 2019)? And sometimes it’s because certain movies really work for that decade and either don’t translate to a modern day setting or there’s nothing that putting it in a modern day setting will add to the story - John Carpenter’s original Halloween (1978) works because it’s so atmospheric and he knew how to light a movie so you could actually SEE what was happening; Rob Zombie’s Halloween (2007) is so terrible in so many ways, but mostly because I don’t need or care about Michael Myers’ tragic backstory; David Gordon Green’s Halloween (2018) reboot/remake trilogy thing said nothing new but annoyed me plenty AND killed off Judy Greer AND I couldn’t see shit so what was the point? Horror remakes: just don’t do them.

Almost every time they take an animated Disney movie and turn it into an uninspired live action and/or photorealistic live action movie, I’m not into it. It’s never as vibrant, it’s never as fun, sometimes they miscast SO badly (sorry Emma Watson) - use your Disney+ subscription to watch 2D animation like the universe intended. The Lion King animated movie is gorgeous; The Lion King photorealistic movie looks like mud.

I’m not saying that the original Gossip Girl on the CW was a work of art (I’m not saying the first season was not a work of art either though), but it wasn’t as boring as the HBOMax reboot. Truly, no one was likable on that show and they made Luke Kirby a creep! No one asked for this!

Long before we had Marvel/superhero fatigue, 20th Century Fox made the first X-men movie with the positively inspired casting choices of Hugh Jackman, Patrick Stewart, and Ian McKellan and I loved it! Even X2 was fun. (X3 went off the rails and was bad.) Ten years later and a solo Wolverine movie in between, they decided to soft reboot the franchise with those First Class movies and you know what? They shouldn’t have. Except for one or two moments here and there, those movies are all pretty awful. I’m not sure how you can mess up the Days of Future Past storyline that badly or cast Oscar Isaac only to make him a member of the blue man group, but they should all be ashamed. I still maintain that the most worthwhile X-Men adaptation in media is the animated series from the 90s.

I don’t know if this qualifies as a soft reboot but when Fox brought The X-Files back in 2016, it was a lesson in “be careful what you wish for because it’s going to suck.” Except I didn’t wish for this because I watched the second movie and it sucked so I was completely fine with never getting more new episodes again. What we got was Scully whispering a lot, some half-assed search for William that I was not invested in (they spent nine seasons denying Mulder and Scully had boned even after she had his damn kid!), and monsters of the week episodes that were so uninspired that I didn’t even watch the second season of the reboot (maybe didn’t finish the first season of the reboot?). And now there’s talk of a Jordan Peele remake of the show to which I say - find something else. The (OG) X-Files worked because it was the perfect place in the perfect time with the perfect people and you’re never going to trap that lightning in a bottle twice so why try?

#ask me things

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theoddcatlady · 5 months

Text

A Bachelor to Die For, Week Three

Week Two

Week three, I made it. God I just want to go home.

I did sleep better now that I wasn’t in the Queen’s Room, even though Tara snores loud enough to wake the dead. I saw Taylor slip a small orange bottle to Diana after the Friday elimination. I found out later it was a medication called Trazodone, which can be used for sleep.

This week we had a new task- create our dream date with Donovan. Plan everything from what we eat to where we go, within reason of course. I was lucky number one on the docket. I wanted more time to plan, but I wasn’t going to ask anyone to swap with me.

In the end, I stuck with what I would sincerely want to do, if I wasn’t dating a heart eating monster.

“Take out and movies?”

Donovan was clearly trying not to laugh as I handed him a stack of DVDs the crew gave me. “We were told to plan our dream date. Honest to god, this is it. Pizza, movies, snuggle on the couch… we don’t have to snuggle if you’re not into it though.”

Please don’t be into it.

“I think I won’t mind snuggling.”

Damn it.

“So I get to pick the movie?” Donovan asked as he began to sort through them.

I nodded as I sat down on the couch next to him. “That’s fair, isn’t it? I picked pizza for dinner, so you get to pick what we watch. When we do this again, we switch choices.”

Donovan grimaced as he picked up IT Chapter One. “Oh, no, definitely not,” He said, shuddering and practically tossing the DVD case across the room.

I couldn’t help it, I laughed. “Oh my god, are you scared of clowns?”

“Absolutely terrified. I’m not much of a horror fan either,” He admitted.

“Get too much of it in your every day life?” I asked.

Donovan paused for a moment before glancing up at me. “You could say that,” He said quietly before he picked up another DVD. “But I do like classics. The Princess Bride is a classic, right?”

“I think it is! I love that movie!”

The pizza was delivered by Monica, who winked at me and told me to ‘keep it up’. Apparently to whatever fucked up audience they’re going to show this to, I will have a lot of appeal.

“Half pepperoni, half cheese. I’m not sure what you like on your pizza,” I said as I pulled free a slice.

Donovan picked up his own slice. “I’m the boring one who likes plain cheese. I don’t get pizza often anymore though. I did when I was in college.”

“What did you study?” I asked, taking a bite.

“I was a psychology major. Graduated with a master’s. I practically lived off of pizza,” Donovan chuckled before he sneaked an arm over my shoulders. “Let’s watch the movie, shall we?”

I was stiff as a board for the first several minutes of the movie. Sure, I knew I was safe, but you try getting snuggly with a murderous Mr. Right.

I did relax though. Pizza, one of the best movies ever made, and by the time the credits rolled I was practically curled up against his chest. He was warm, he smelled good, I didn’t even realize I was doing it until Donovan moved. I cleared my throat and backed off. “I could actually watch that movie every day,” I said with a nervous laugh.

Donovan cocked his head to the side. “You’re afraid,” He said.

I nodded, rubbing the back of my neck. “I can tell when you’re getting pissed, you have a few tells, and I know no eliminations take place before Friday. But…” I swallowed. I couldn’t finish that sentence.

“Look at me.”

I looked up just in time to see Donovan change.

It is more than just the tail, there are some slight changes to his features when he shows what he really is- brow is more prominent, his eyeteeth and canines are sharper, there’s another set of eyes on his temples and all four are bronze in color with no pupils or whites. But that tail, the many jointed scorpion tail, that was still what had my attention.

The tail flicked closer to me. “This is what I really am, Paige. Child of monster and human. I can look and feel like the latter, but this always is beneath the surface,” He said.

My fingers trembling, I reached up and brushed my fingers his tail. It was cool, smooth. “Can I…” I didn’t need to finish the question.

Donovan’s eyes widened but he nodded. I ran my fingers up to near the tip. “Is this poisonous?” I asked as I tapped my finger against the final segment of tail, the one with the thorn like tip.

“No. It’s just very sharp.”

“No kidding,” I grumbled as I rested my hand against the back of it. Just a week before I watched as it tore out someone’s heart. And now here it was, inches away from me, passive and harmless.

Donovan finally pulled his tail away and it vanished, and there he was again, just a man. “I am what I am. I cannot change what is literally a part of my DNA… but around you, I feel… tame. The beast inside is quiet and I don’t have any desire to see you hurt.”

The mood was almost broken from where I could see Monica out of the corner of my eye, jumping up and down and holding back childlike glee. “Well, I suppose that bodes well for me. Give me a few weeks, we’ll see how I feel about you? You got to see me, learn about me for a whole week before I even saw you. And my first impression of you was terrifying.”

“I understand.” Donovan got up, brushing a few crumbs off his lap. “You know, I wasn’t quite sure how I felt about such a simple date, but it may turn out to be one of my favorites.”

I headed back to my room knowing I was going to live, but terrified about about who was likely going to die.

Diana’s date was next, and god this girl is going to win. She chose a date to a local coffee shop, they spent the whole time laughing and enjoying each other’s company. She was the only other person to see Donovan’s true form, during the car ride home. She didn’t touch his tail but instead touched his face, letting him know it was what on was on the inside that mattered to her. Clever way to word it, I gotta say.

Tara took Donovan dancing. They enjoyed drinks, they got quite passionate on the dance floor, and although there was a brief moment I thought Tara was going to make a break for it, she didn’t take it and instead kissed Donovan for quite a passionate moment.

Shannon’s date idea was quite sweet, if I’d picked a date out in public I probably would’ve gone with her idea. She went to a museum with Donovan, and they managed to catch a show at the planetarium. However, anytime Donovan attempted to hold her hand she jerked it away. She didn’t really engage in any conversation either. It was clear her mind was somewhere else.

Taylor… Taylor actually went third, but her attempt resulted in disaster.

It started with dinner, and it was going well. Taylor was calm, she cut back on her bad jokes and managed to be quite charming. Halfway through dessert she got up to use the bathroom… and then she didn’t come back after ten minutes.

We could see the irritation on Donovan’s face when he realized that Taylor pulled a runner. A quick questioning of the staff and it was revealed she’d asked to use the back way out, as the date she was on was absolutely bombing. She’d ditched her heels for sneakers she’d kept in her purse. Bruce swore so loudly his mic peaked and then the live feed cut out.

Shannon was hopeful. “Maybe she’ll get help for all of us,” She said as we headed back to our rooms.

Tara shook her head. “If she can outrun the crew and Donovan, I don’t care if she catches the next flight back to Britain. She got out, she doesn’t owe us shit,” She said.

I agreed with Tara. If even one of us got away, it would be amazing.

But Taylor didn’t get away. Shortly after midnight I woke up to hear her sobbing to Tara. I pretended to be asleep as they talked, but through my mostly closed eyes I could see Taylor’s ripped up nylons and a bruise forming on her face.

Taylor managed to get a bit of distance and was almost in the clear when Donovan caught up to her.

“I thought… I thought I was gonna die…” Taylor hiccuped, “But… but all he did was wrap his tail around me and growl like some wild fucking animal as he dragged me back to a car. He didn’t say anything, but god, Bruce told me I broke my contract. Tomorrow it’ll be me. Fuck, it’ll be me.”

The next morning at breakfast Shannon put one eye on Taylor and bolted back to her bedroom. Diana looked disappointed but still gave Taylor a tight hug and thanked her for trying. Taylor didn’t touch a crumb of food but I didn’t blame her. I didn’t know what to say to comfort her. This was a woman on death row and nothing could change that.

It was elimination time and Taylor looked so pale I thought she might faint. We all sat on the couch as Bruce impatiently tapped his foot.

“Where the hell is Sarah?” He grumbled.

“Her name is Shannon,” I said. God I hate this man.

“Well, one of you go get her,” He shooed us, “It’s time to eliminate a contestant.”

Tara snorted. “Oh, don’t even. It’s a fucking execution, you creep,” She snarled, wrapping an arm around Taylor’s shoulders.

Diana got up. “I’ll ask if she wants to come, but I won’t make her. If she doesn’t want to see this, that’s her choice,” She said, giving quite a nasty glare at Bruce before walking off.

I held Taylor’s hand as I saw Donovan walk in, leaning against the wall with quite the unenthusiastic expression. “I wish I could switch with you,” I whispered into her ear.

Taylor sniffled and muttered, “You try and I’ll beat your head in. You’re a great friend though, love. You too, Tara. I’m glad I got to meet you both.”

Tara shushed her and ran her fingers through Taylor’s braids. “I wish we could be friends for longer-”

She was cut off by Diana’s bloodcurdling scream.

I bolted after the sound, Bruce tried to grab my arm but I managed to shake him off. Donovan and Tara were right on my heels as we made it to the bedrooms. Diana stumbled out of Shannon’s room into the hall, white as a sheet and continuing to scream.

I ran into the room and saw Shannon’s body hanging from the ceiling fan, white sheets forming the noose around her neck. Her eyes were still open, staring lifelessly down at me from her blue face.

I sunk to the ground, legs turned to jelly. I couldn’t move, I couldn’t scream like Diana still was. I heard Tara turn her rage on Bruce, screaming at him for not keeping a better eye on the contestants and not realizing one was a suicide risk.

I was lifted off the ground and helped out of the room by Donovan. “You should lie down,” He murmured into my ear as he helped me to the Queen’s room.

That’s where I am now. Once again, I was top girl. Lucky fucking me. There was no execution this week, Taylor has another week. According to her, Monica pulled her aside and let her know the slate was wiped clean. As long as she doesn’t try to escape again, she has another shot.

Someone get us fucking out of here.

Week Four

#my stories

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thisisasupergoodidea · 2 years

Text

Whumptober Day 25:

Lost voice

—

continuation of:

day 1: adverse effects

—

“About time you showed up! You don’t usually make me wait this long,” Rogelio remarks upon Emil’s arrival to their weekly meeting, held this time by the main river’s point of confluence with another.

It’s a rather remote destination, not just for Emil but for Rogelio as well- so it was a bizarre choice on Rogelio’s part to have requested it specifically. Bizarre and irksome. Though Emil hadn’t cared enough to challenge the decision when it was first made. He couldn’t have guessed what poor decisions he would be making in the ensuing week.

Hindsight loves to tell its cruel jokes.

He looks around stiffly, unsure what to expect. An ambush? A picnic? It’s a nice enough spot for either one.

“It’s nice here, isn’t it?” Rogelio says, intruding upon his thoughts. “I heard about it from someone in town. I guess I didn’t need an excuse to come here, but… I don’t know. It would’ve felt weird on my own.”

As their eyes roam the surrounding landscape, they meet, and linger. Rogelio smiles awkwardly at him. As if this were anything other than what it always is: the prelude to contention.

Why bother pretending otherwise?

Emil will not be allowing himself to entertain distractions today. He wants this done and over with. Rather than share in this moment of quiet peace, his stern composure harshens and he takes out his slingshot to load it in preparation for the fight. Rogelio watches him with a waning good humor.

“Gee, someone’s in a shitty mood today. What’s up with you?”

He aims his sling and cocks it back. Waits for Rogelio to move first.

“You’re seriously not gonna say a single word to me…? Okay, fine. I get it: I have to make you talk.”

With that, their spar begins. But it’s pure formality, and a brief delay of the inevitable reveal that the reward Rogelio seeks is barred by more than just combat this time: Emil already knows he isn’t going to talk, because he can’t. He’s still healing from the significant amount of internal scarring that drinking that damn potion has resulted in. And as this very day crept closer, with no miraculous relief having occurred, he’d spent an increasing amount of the meantime puzzling out how the fuck he was going to fulfill his promise in this state.

So. Here he is, in the unfortunate position of being voiceless before his arbiter. He is also, circumstantially, a wounded man in close proximity to a major source of magic, one he could avail himself of in order to expedite the healing process… if only he weren’t so stubbornly, excruciatingly opposed to it. His damaged organs take issue with this, of course.

Rogelio dodges left, dodges right, then crouches low to charge and tackle Emil to the ground, angling his shoulder to hit him directly in the stomach. And… that’s the entire fight. Emil is utterly incapacitated before he even fully goes down, the shock of pain shattering him like glass. The subsequent impact, adding Rogelio’s weight on top of that, feels like the closest thing to death he can imagine experiencing while still simultaneously alive. He even blacks out for a few transcendent seconds.

And then everything hits him all over again as life seizes him by the collar and shakes him back into viscerality.

“H-Hey. Dude, are you o-“

Emil finds a sudden burst of strength to shove him off and roll over just in time for a surge of blood, bile, and crusted, fleshy clumps to purge themselves from his body. Rogelio swears aloud in revolted horror. He puts a hand on Emil’s shoulder, presumably trying to help in some way- but Emil’s reaction is one of immediate, violent rejection. A growl, feral and so very painful, tears its way out of him in spite of himself; he chokes on it and pushes out more bloody pieces of himself. His eyes start to water uncontrollably.

There is a little flicker of a flame, warm and strong, that ignites somewhere in his core. Without thinking, he pounces on it and allows it to consume him; the heat works its way up and out from within. It stings, but quite differently from that of injury and acid. Burning away the burn that was self-inflicted.

Pain. Recovery. Life. Promises. Gratefulness- mired in resentment. And shame. Emil burns wholly with it all.

Aching, trembling, yearning, he forces himself to stand, and faces Rogelio again. Paying no attention to whatever the man is babbling about so concernedly. Leaving his slingshot abandoned on the ground. He just stands there, tears on his face. And opens his mouth to speak.

“You win,” he wants to say.

But can’t.

—

#whumptober2022 #no.25 #lost voice #OC #fic #blood #vomiting #burns #internal injury #my writing #project magic

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spook-study · 2 years

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Desi, what do you know about…witches?

Harkening back to the lurid look of 70s European horror without leaving any modern sensibilities behind, She Will (2021) adds a much appreciated dose of technicolor mayhem to a rather monochromatic time in horror history. Combining the very same grey tones and foggy scenes that plague modern horror cinema with the heightened psychedelic reality of grim fantasy, it’s not difficult to understand why the likes of Dario Argento felt confident enough to sign his name on Charlotte Colbert’s first feature film. Wait for the dreams, they’re well worth it.

It’s not often the first outing of any director, let alone horror director, has a such a well respected name attached to it. The dreamlike quality of the narrative and the sometimes overwhelming level of inference over depicture smacks of Giallo, and of Argento in particular. Witches are old hat for the horror veteran, and She Will felt like a valiant effort in the continued tradition of witches as a source of influence over women and reality. Or at least, our perception of reality. Told with an undeniably female view, She Will may feel like it’s keeping a secret from some viewers. It’s “show-don’t-tell” delves deep into visual metaphor, and doesn’t give the audience much. At times, it felt like “show-don’t-show.” In fact, you might find something completely different than I did upon your own viewing. Maybe that’s the director’s intention, or maybe the blink-and-you’ll-miss-it plot is just too thin to support the framework of a sturdy movie that gives the viewer a bit more with the actual text.

At times, She Will felt almost like an endurance test, any given moment a toss up about whether or not I would walk away with something. Luckily, I absolutely did, and when we got there it felt completely intentional on the filmmaker’s part. While I did feel my fingers scrabbling for the kernels of a plot Colbert was giving me, at other times I let the splendor of the visuals wash over me and take me away to the foreign reality, to me at least, of the Scottish Moors upon which the film is set. Couple such clear and pointed hallucinatory storytelling with truly magnificent performances from Alice Krige and Kota Eberhardt and by the end, I didn’t much mind that I wasn’t 100% sure what happened. After all, it’s not a new notion that a high-concept small-script horror movie rely on its visuals, but rarely is it done to such excellent effect. Hypnotic and atmospheric don’t begin to describe the style of storytelling used throughout, and the unsettling quality of the visuals added value to an otherwise meager plot. It was restrained, and tense, but it didn’t feel boring.

It can be rather easy to use witches as a sort of catch-all explanation for strangeness. Unlike other films of the genre, however, She Will uses them as an explanation, but not an excuse. There are rules involved that don’t allow for just anything to happen. In fact, the vehicles of the ancient witchcraft that was sowed into the earth aren’t sure what is happening themselves. It’s a refreshing take on the empowerment of witchcraft that those who are gaining that power don’t quite understand what’s happening to them, only that they like it. What’s more, they seem to understand what they are experiencing isn’t entirely good. Rather than fighting it implicitly, there is a choice made to pursue it. Even then, the witchcraft, which had damned so many others, isn’t damnable by nature. Rather it is employed as a tool that one can choose to brandish as a weapon or leave to rust. Life, death, and torture all have roles to play in She Will, and the subtly with which these immutable forces are used permeates through every minute.

She Will is a movie that will let you feel the mud between your toes before the blood runs through your fingers. Slow, steady, and purposeful, it’s a movie about sacrifice, loss, and generational anger so ingrained in the earth that it will find any outlet to release that frustration. Warped perception and strange dreams plague both aging actress, and recent mastectomy patient, Veronica Ghent as well as her put upon young caretaker Desi, whose name we don’t even find out until a good chunk of the movie has passed.

The connection and chemistry the two actresses share is palpable, and each aids the scarcity of dialogue with subtle and nuanced performances that touch upon generational divide, beauty, androgyny, and self loathing. They are incredibly intimate with one another, verging on romantic in some instances, and the relationship felt real and deep. With lesser actresses, I’m sure the movie wouldn’t have fared nearly as well as it did. Whether these women knew each other in a past life, or were always destined to know each other in this one, you never wonder why it was these two women who are sharing in the madness of witchcraft. It’s the magic that blends itself into their separate past traumas that finally allows an outlet for that pain. Toss in an incredibly brief but very effective couple of scenes from Malcolm McDowell as an (allegedly) abusive Kubrickian-type director responsible for some unsavory things in actress Ghent’s past and you’ve got a recipe for success.

Still, I wish there had been a bit more script. The visuals were so wonderful it felt like I never wanted it to end, but the astonishingly short 95-minute runtime made it feel like the director knew what she wanted to show, but maybe not what she wanted to say. I’m sure this isn’t the case and was only how I felt about it, but the text left me a little wanting. Like I had eaten my dinner, but I was still waiting on dessert. Director Colbert got her start as a photographer after all; this, above all things, makes itself known throughout the movie.

But what can I say? I liked it. It’s a movie that made me want to watch it again, and in the modern age of cinema in general, that can be rather hard to come by. It was ravishing, delicious. I couldn’t look away. It took me on a journey, and it was unlike anything else I had seen in what felt like quite some time. Witches can be such a tired topic, but the amount of mystery surrounding them and their history in She Will left enough to the imagination for both dread and excitement. I can’t wait to see what Colbert does next.

Absolutely and irrefutably beautiful, if a little short on plot, She Lives gets an well earned 4/5*

#she will #she will 2021 #horror #film #movies #review #4/5*#spook study #charlotte colbert

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readtilyoudie · 4 months

Text

She spied a book atop his desk, and a mischievous impulse seized her. “I see you’re reading Minerva’s latest novel.”

To her shock, he colored. “I figured I should find out what my sister is up to.”

“So is this your first foray into Minerva’s world of ‘Gothic horrors’?”

“Yes.” He looked uncomfortable with the topic, which of course made her only more eager to pursue it.

“You made an excellent first choice. The Stranger of the Lake is my favorite.”

He scowled. “Why? Because Rockton gets his come-uppance in that damned rapier duel?”

A smile tugged at her lips. “Because Minerva lets him live. She usually kills the villain off in a very gruesome manner.”

“Ah, and you hate the gruesome parts.”

“Actually, no, I love them. It’s too awful, isn’t it? She almost can’t make it gruesome enough for me.” When he blinked at her, she added with a grin, “At home, I had a subscription to The Newgate Calendar. Well, Freddy had a subscription. Father didn’t approve of my fascination with murder and mayhem.”

“I imagine he didn’t.” He sat back in the chair to stare at her. “So, if you like the gruesome parts, why are you glad she didn’t kill off Rockton?”

“She gives just enough hints about him to make you wonder why he became so villainous. And if he dies, I’ll never learn the answer.”

Oliver eyed her closely. “Perhaps he was born villainous.”

“No one is born villainous.”

“Oh?” he said with raised eyebrow. “So we’re all born good?”

“Neither. We start as animals, with an animal’s needs and desires. It takes parents and teachers and other good examples to show us how to restrain those needs and desires, when necessary, for the greater good. But it’s still our choice whether to heed that education or to do as we please.”

“For a woman who loves murder and mayhem, you’re quite the philosopher.”

“I like to understand how things work. Why people behave as they do.”

The Truth About Lord Stoneville (Hellions of Halstead Hall, #1) by Sabrina Jeffries

#book quote #the truth about lord stoneville #sabrina jeffries #hellions of halstead hall #oliver sharpe #maria butterfield #historical romance #romance #quote #quotes #booklr #bookblr

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luminenwalker · 1 year

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Catchup 2

Is this thing recording? We're live? Great. Welcome everyone to the renewed broadcast of Degenerate Signal. //Luminen

"Choices have consequences, and the city remembers."

This is going to be the beginning of me bringing things back to life here. Degenerate Signal, as I always thought was an alternative lens to the regular broadcasts. To start, with it being October, I'm going to do daily recommendations for Horror content. //Luminen

Half-serious, non-canon debate is to be expected. For one the internet doesn't function as it does now in Cinci. It's not a part of regular life. So, Degenerate Signal is a place for minor fiction and commentary on my part. //Luminen

This includes old stuff from Afternoon Ashes, and all the stuff that doesn't make the cut for the main @cpdwire channel. //Luminen

The format is as such. Today's story is Psychosis, by Matt Dymerski. The stories I recommend will come with a reading as I know a lot of people listen to these stories that way. I do. Helps me think. I more than casually enjoy this story. //Luminen

It's what really started my interest in horror. The paranoia, isolation, desperation. It's recognizable to me. There's a moment in isolation where you become like this if you let it happen. //Luminen

Not this far, but paranoia like this is a slippery slope in the modern age where fiction and reality blur like nothing else. //Luminen

What's so immoral about looting a dead body? You can't take it with you, reduce reuse recycle! //Sypha

Sorry for going silent. Today's story is Spores, by a user who called themselves CrazyMonkeiBoi. The version I'm linking is read by Benjamin Lisman. Always enjoyed this read, high quality performer and I liked this version of the story. //Luminen

I don't think the actual story as it was posted is as good, honestly. It loses a lot of the character I found in this and I'm not really sure where the writer was going in the other stuff he posted. Not to knock him, still a good idea. //Luminen

Fleshgait by EmpyrealInvective. Narrated by NaturesTemper. A story about confusion and paranoia in the wilderness. Creature feature. This is a classic in this style of horror. At least I consider it one. //Luminen

It's a good piece of horror fiction, with that kind of wrongness that sticks with you. //Luminen

Pretty sure the cashier at my local GDX is a mutant. Thought it was some weirdass implant at first, but they definitely have more joints than they should. Well, working retail is hard enough as is—I'll let them be. //Verdigris

There is a lot of pleasure in standing over the beaten down bodies of five street thugs that tried to jump you as you passed through an alley. Don't neglect your hand to hand training kids. //DareDevil

When someone tries to tell you "Violence isn't the answer", you can always reply with the words of the prophet. "This shoebox full of C-4 begs to differ!" //Bad Wolf

Today's selection is Milk Teeth by Colby Newton. Narrated by Heather Ordover. Lovely little story and read in the vein of stories like Children of Men, about the end of us. //Luminen

What do you mean bluetooth? Why the hell would I want bluetooth on my fucking mechanical heart? So that someone will use one of them damn phones and turn it into a disco? //Aunt Jenny

Staring down the scope and looking at a stranger's face. Just another aspect of myself in the Web of Life, playing its part. The pulling of the trigger. Murder of another. And yet its just me killing me. //Little Bear

"It's gonna snow soon, but that don't mean go 'head and make snow angels- you'll be surprised with cocaine." // Zilla

Error reports received. Await further *instructions.* //Station

*-Dialing.* Exposure of pattern in Cincinnati apparent. Gradient leaving acceptable threshold. //Station

*-Immediate* cull of local pattern necessary. Activation advised before *public-.* //Station

*-cruelty;* sinister at the core. The participants are willing. Made willing. //RRH

Yankee Echo Foxtrot. Lima Lima Foxtrot. Oscar Whiskey Foxtrot. Kilo India Foxtrot. November Gulf Foxtrot. //RRH

#cyberpunkdreams #cyberpunk

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imprettybitchin · 2 years

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Liveblogging ep 8 under the cut :) 9 will get it’s own post because both are so damn long

4x08

OH THANK GOD “PAPA” IS GONNA DIE IN THIS ONE

I HATE HIM I HATE HIM I HATE HIM

I would die for Will Byers and that’s a FACT! I mean I feel that from the beginning, but ESPECIALLY after the almost-confession scene.

We all know Noah blows that scene out of the water with his acting, but shout out to Charlie for all of those microexpressions as Jonathan realizes that Will is talking about himself, not Jane, and Will’s feelings for Mike and I just- I love the magic of acting and storytelling, and also the bond between those siblings

God, first Jane goes through reawakening traumatic memories, THEN she finds out that her home phone isn’t working (ergo, something has to be wrong and her siblings & boyfriend are in danger) and almost simultaneously she figures out that her other friends are in danger PLUS one of her BEST FRIENDS is being targeted by 001. Awful Horrible BAD

Owens is not a perfect person by any means, but by god he’s trying. He’s the one that is standing up to B and INSISTING that Jane have a choice in her own fate. That doesn’t work out well for Owens at ALL, but he’s got the spirit.

I would also die for Argyle and that’s a FACT! I’d love to see him next season be treated more seriously and not as a 24/7 joke, thank you very much!

I already have complicated (mostly negative) feelings towards the military as it is, but I fucking HAAAAAATTTEEEEE the bastards in this show. The ones in season 4 are THE WORST, but so many terrible ones throughout the seasons.

“Dr. Owens had a change of heart” LIAR!!! LIAR LIAR LIAR!!!!!

AND threatening to KILL Dr O???? I HATE THIS I HATE YOU

Okay but the CHARACTER GROWTH with Jane!? It takes so much courage to stand up to someone who has power over her, someone she knows can and WILL hurt her!!! Especially someone she believed cared for and valued her, the person that raised her! And the longer she’s been in her newest prison, the more she’s realized that “papa” has been manipulative and uncaring all along!

The fucking BETRAYAL and HORROR as Brenner sedated her... he is true evil

Owens is fighting for Jane in a place where no one else is. I can’t help but wonder how Jane regaining her powers would go if he had been in charge of coaxing them back. And he’s right to call Sullivan a bastard because he is! You don’t get to being where he is with your hands clean.

SHOOT HIM! SHOOT THAT BASTARD’S ASS!!!!

omg the comedy of the surfer boy pizza truck gang rolling in while all of this is happening is true gold. The comedy in this season is *chef’s kiss*

Okay so on one hand, Jane pulling that helicopter out of the sky isn’t going to improve her image with Sully & co. On the other, it looked fucking cool, and you know what? She’s been tortured by Angela for months and Brenner for years. She DESERVES to snap like this!!! Especially when they’re standing in the way of Jane saving her friends.

Will, Jane, and Mike: Tearful reunion Argyle: oh FUCK THIS IS BAD! Jonathan: trying to keep his head on straight so that they don’t all die. What a king

I can’t remember if Will knows what Brenner looks like (Mike saw him ‘die’ in front of him so no doubt he remembers) but the looks of either ‘who’s this guy?’ or ‘fuck, not THIS guy again!’ are getting me ajsdlfkjasdf

Brenner: You are my family Me: WELL YOU’RE NOT HERS, BITCH!

Brenner: Please tell me you understand Jane: *leaves him on read*

I love you Jane I love you with my whole heart but Brenner 1. does not deserve this much of your time and 2. YOU NEED TO GO ASAP OR YOU’RE ALL GONNA GET CAPTURED!!!

HE DOES NOT DESERVE THAT EMOTIONAL MUSIC!!! Also the way I started chanting “Run him over!” as they were driving away asdklfjaksjfd

I love how Sully Boy doesn’t even try to go after the van... Did Jane destroy all of the military cars, too? If so, good for you, babe <3

Yeah, I went a bit feral here. No apologies. This will happen again.

#Kame liveblogs #Kame's rambling #OOC

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saintobio · 3 years

Text

sincerely not. (16)

↳ gojou satoru/reader

with an arranged marriage set in place, the sacred bond is doomed with a wife who wants to make the relationship work and a husband who’s ready to ruin it all. unbeknown to him, a tragic fate already lies within the pages of his romance book.

genre. heavy angst, unrequited love, arranged marriage, modern au, 18+

tags/warnings. explicit smut (includes; pregnant sex, daddy n mommy kink, marking, voyeurism, slight humiliation), mentions of miscarriage, manipulation, mentions of sexual harassment, violence

notes. 14.1k wc. this was supposed to be longer but i had to cut the scene and just write it onto the next chapter. thanks sm for the beta @exorphic n @kazbrkker <33

series masterlist -> episode seventeen

Sera didn’t expect that she would dig herself a deep hole that went farther than the Earth’s layers just because of an error of judgement—a miscalculation. Now the consequences of her actions were met with scorching fury that exceeded the core’s hot surface. The ironic part of all this was the fact that what awoke her into reality was a nightmare in the name of Satoru Gojou. Ten months ago, the man showered her with saccharine promises of a blissful, comfortable life and a marriage of genuine love. Life was easier back then; she owned every inch of his heart and they were real lovers despite the stark difference in their social status. It was them against the world, them against the universe and all its vastness.

So, why has he changed his mind now? How come the woman he hated being married to was now taking Sera’s place as the rightful recipient of his heart? Surely, her fault in this situation was her failure to accept his words when he first decided to let go of her. Or when he admitted that it had always been you all this time. Sera’s pride was her hamartia and it made her an antagonist in a story where she was meant to be the protagonist.

This wasn’t her justifying the actual horrors of her actions, but the Sera that willingly put a pregnant woman in danger was a person driven by anger, jealousy, and spite. Her bitterness permeated her veins, flowed through her blood, and blazed her vexed mind. She wanted to inflict pain towards the people that betrayed her heart, but in return, she ended up having the repercussions bite her back.

If she had chosen not to give you that damned tea, stayed in her lane, and became the better person, maybe she wouldn’t have had a taste of karma splashing on her face like ice, cold water. Maybe she would have kept her decent-paying job and lived a quiet life, except she would have to suck it in and be tortured by the joyful face of her ex-lover who unabashedly anticipated his first child with his wife (not to mention he previously expressed disgust at the thought of having Sera’s). They said that the tables would turn, but how come she was always on the unfortunate side of it?

Being escorted out of the company she has worked for two years was not the humiliating part, it was the realization that there was no longer any ounce of affection left from Satoru that she hoped he still had.

But see it this way: Eula was the gas that fueled Sera's fire. Yes, that’s right. On the night when the revelation about your pregnancy infested the media, Sera was back in her room wrecking her things and screaming her deafening frustrations into the world. That same night, she had no choice but to call the woman she looked up to and ask her for advice.

“That woman… She has his child,” Sera sobbed through the phone at the time. “I-I thought she’s infertile. Why did—she can’t have a family with Satoru! Miss Eula, what do I do? I don’t want her to have him forever!”

She received an audible sigh of exasperation from the other line. “Goodness! Isn’t that frustrating? That wretched baby’s causing me stress! My husband’s even happy about it, too.”

“What do we do?” Desperate and hopeless was how Sera saw herself to be. “I want Satoru back… I want him… I c-can’t lose him like this, Miss Eula!”

“Get a hold of yourself!” the woman hissed at her. “Jesus Christ. Do something about it if you're that upset. I have no doubt he’s gonna parade her in his office soon.”

Sera sniffed and wiped her tear-stained cheek. “Do I confront her?”

Eula exhaled, clearly upset at the younger woman’s cluelessness. “Use your head! You can’t confront the legal wife in her husband’s office. Play the game and be smart. Act civil around her, give her your best wishes, and do your usual job in the office. Better yet, offer her snacks and some tea. Fool her with your kindness and silently stab her in the back.”

By this time, Sera already knew where this was going and she wasn’t sure if she could proceed. “I’ll p-poison the tea?” she clarified because that bit wasn’t clear. “I can’t… I hate her, but not that way.”

“She’s not gonna die because of a stupid tea. Just give her chamomile!” Eula’s irritation was rising from her throat. “You want revenge? Then just do what I say. He’s only in it because she has his heir, so don’t give him the privilege to have that abominable child with her. Learn from me!”

Clearly, that should have been the last thing that Sera did even in her most vulnerable state. Despite researching about the effects that the said tea could have on a pregnant woman, she trusted Miss Eula’s plans because she was a good example of a woman who had started from the bottom and earned her way to the top. Sera wanted to be just like her and so all morality was lost when she temporarily allowed her greed to course through her.

She shouldn’t have.

Yet, she was a grown woman who could make her own choices in life and the unfortunate (and clearly motivated) path that she took was to claim revenge on a pregnant woman and her husband. The difference between Sera and Eula was how the latter could have executed her plan a heck ton better than the former had and there would be no trace of guilt that could haunt the older woman. That was how she should play the game. Be cruel, be cunning, be unapologetic.

Sera, although hard to believe, was burdened by her guilt and devastation leaving her with no choice but to run back home in a tearful state. The void she created in her chest was growing larger with each step she took upon entering her home. It was hard to believe how a simple action that she did for a few seconds had resulted into a lifetime punishment of losing a job, a lover, and her dignity. This was the comeuppance that she should have seen like an asteroid coming down to destroy her whole life.

In the end, the love that she had for Satoru had dissipated into anger. And that anger had evolved into spite.

“Nee-chan, what’s wrong?” She heard her brother ask in worry as soon as she stepped inside the house with pale lips and obvious puffy eyes behind her smudged mascara. Her gait was also too languid not to notice.

“Sera, are you okay?” The follow up question was from her mom.

“Don’t cry, nee-chan!” As she fell on her knees and succumbed to her lassitude, it was her younger sister who embraced her in her arms and shared her woes.

Family. All she had left was her family.

She didn’t expect that Nari’s frail arms would give her the most comfort at a time like this. “It’s over,” Sera ended up blurting out loud as she wiped her eyes. “I lost my job and the boss that I was dating is a married man! I was his mistress.”

There was no violent reaction to her revelation. Her family only looked at her with sympathy before scooping her in their arms to provide her cold heart with warmth. Why are they not disgusted with me? Sera didn’t really want to label herself as a mistress since she was the first girlfriend before Satoru was arranged to you, but then she remembered the words you said back in Bora Bora.

“In everyone’s eyes, no one cares about who’s the first love. People care about who’s the one that they married.”

She had lost this game. She was the villain and she couldn’t accept it. She was supposed to be the main character in her fairytale, not you. Your marriage was supposed to be hollow and temporary. Satoru was supposed to end up with her.

“Sera, there are better men out there who can love you wholeheartedly,” her mother offered advice, one that Sera took with bitterness.

She was already scoffing at her mom when she pulled away from all three of them. “You’re one to talk, mom. The man you married can’t even provide for his family.”

Jiro took this chance to answer on behalf of his regretful mother. “Nee-chan, dad’s been sober for a month. He’s been looking for jobs just to repay you for—”

“A-About that…” Their mother’s shaky hands alarmed them. She was tearful and nervous, but Sera wondered why exactly she was acting that way. “The money we had left… Your dad used it to gamble. I-I had no idea he took the card and withdrew the money while I was asleep.”

Sera realized that it was better to get hit by a truck than to hear those sickening words from her mother’s mouth. That her revolting father had spent the last bit of money that they had to sustain their lifestyle all for a fucking game of poker. How about their rent? Their bills? Their everyday needs? She released her stress in the form of screams—so loud that it broke her vocal chords as she sobbed and threw the flower vase across the wall. She was thrashing like an unhinged person, destroying everything around her while she continuously wailed. Everything Sera had worked hard for was taken from her in a single day.

She didn’t deserve this. She deserved better than this.

“Sera—!”

“Onee-chan, wait—!”

No one should ever get in the way of an extremely angry woman because Sera was on the verge of self-destruction and her wrath led her to barge inside of her father’s bedroom, snatching his clothes off the closet, and throwing them straight out of the window. It didn’t stop there. She also started hurling his shoes and everything that he owned out of their house without much regret in doing so. In fact, it was cathartic for her because the last thing she wanted to see in her house was that curse of a father. His existence was an anathema to her.

“If any of you…” she warned, looking at her siblings and her mother with deathly fire burning in her brown eyes, “if any of you ever let that man inside this house again, don’t consider me family anymore.”

They didn’t chase after Sera when she walked out of the house and ran off without a specific direction. She just desperately wanted to leave because even the supposed comfort of her home was a heavy weight on her shoulders. There was no peace even around her own family and she was a minute close into falling apart. Where should she run off to now? Who would comfort a woman like her who just lost everything?

In truth, she had no one. She only had herself and the only person she could think of who had always been there to understand her sentiments was Naoya. A man not from the same status, but nonetheless cared for her well-being. He understood her better than anyone else and Sera was at a point where she could only run to him for comfort.

She didn’t even think twice about showing up at the Zen’in estate just to see him nor did she hesitate at enveloping the guy for an embrace the minute he met with her at the foyer because she needed him to soothe her aching heart. Initially, he had become frozen from her advances, but quickly softened up to stroke her hair.

“I-I did something terrible,” her voice was muffled as she buried her face in his chest.

But Naoya didn’t mind. “Wanna talk about it in my room?”

It had been a long, painful day. A day full of misery and retribution. Of tears and screams. She could tell that the universe had been waiting all along to let her pay for her sins and yet, it seemed like it was asking for more than what she deserved.

“Satoru kicked me out of the company,” she spoke again as soon as Naoya closed the door. His eyes assessed her body language while he leaned his back against the wall, arms crossed when he offered his two ears to listen to her. “I gave Y/N chamomile tea and I knew it was bad for her, but I saw red! I was… I was angry!”

Naoya put his arms down and became rigid. “Woah, you tried to harm her baby?”

Sera thought he understood her so well, so why was he acting as if he was looking at the most abhorrent creature he has ever seen? What happened to their connection where he always saw things in her perspective without prior judgment? Before she knew it, she was already approaching him closer in a manner to clear her name. “Wait, Naoya. Listen, I just followed Miss Eula’s advice. Sh-She told me to give Y/N—”

The blond man closed his eyes and sighed. “I’ll tell you something.”

And just like that, the mood has completely shifted. The disgust in Naoya’s eyes was no longer for Sera, but for the older woman whose name had just left her mouth.

“Eula,” Naoya began, taking slow yet measured footsteps as he circled Sera. “You know I treat her like a mom, right? I respect her. She wasn’t born with inherited wealth, but she worked her way to the top.”

Sera was nodding her head as she listened to every word that left his mouth. Her heart rate was slow and calm because there was nothing more relaxing than hearing Naoya’s voice.

And so he continued, “At first, I followed her around for advice because she’s smart and her mindset can help me strategize in business. But then… she was becoming obsessive towards me. Don’t you think that’s weird? I’m way younger than her! She took advantage of my kindness and tried to force herself on me. It’s really disgusting.”

Wow. Sera was speechless. She never thought that Miss Eula would go as far as preying on a man who was so much younger than her. How could she do such a thing? “I-I had no idea she was doing that to you. I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have listened to her.”

“She’s crazy,” Naoya stated, closing the distance between them by cupping her damp cheek. “You know what’s crazier?”

Sera kept her eyes on his.

“She’s jealous of you.” As the truth left Naoya’s mouth, something just clicked in Sera’s mind but the man took it by himself to voice out her thoughts. “She clearly wanted to ruin you when she told you to do those things. She knew you’d lose her job. She knew Satoru would hate you more. She knew you would be humiliated in front of his wife. She manipulated you because you were vulnerable.”

This… All of this! How could Sera not have seen it? Horror painted her face in realization because everything was now making sense except for one thing. “B-But why is she jealous of me?”

The corner of Naoya’s lips upturned. Along his smirk, he was brushing Sera’s lower lip with his thumb and gazing at her face with a gleam of adoration. “Why not? You’re young, you’re gorgeous, and you’re one of the kindest girls I’ve met. You’re also hard-working and genuine. You’d be so much more capable and powerful than she is now. Do you really think she’ll allow you to become a Gojou when you’d be a threat to her in the future?”

At that point, the tip of Naoya’s nose was pressed against hers. His minty breath brought heat to her cheek, intoxicating her with the affection that she has long yearned for.

“You’re the only one who truly understands me,” her voice broke when she said those words, and she was shamelessly gripping the fabric of his shirt to pull him closer. “You’re the only one who cares about me.”

Naoya raked his finger through her long brown tresses. “World’s cruel, isn’t it?”

It was such a shame how Sera had spent the past few months being hellbent on keeping Satoru by her side and convincing herself that he was the only man she could ever end up with. Why did she even believe such a thing? Naoya was here and he was a far better partner than Satoru could ever be. He listened to her, he appreciated her, he adored her… Sera should have just fallen in love with him instead of wasting all of her time on a man who was so easy to disregard her.

With all that in mind, her emotions drove her to press her lips on top of Naoya’s soft ones. She was kissing him without shame, kissing him with ardor, with gratitude. They were exploring each other’s mouths, engulfing the sweet taste of their tongue rolling against one another. She was unbuttoning his shirt, undoing his pants, pleasing him with all that she can because the feeling of being intimate with this man gave her the distraction that she needed. Naoya had become the antidote from the poison that nearly killed her heart and she was submitting herself to him with the belief that she should have been doing all this with him long before she allowed her life to be ruined by an ex-boyfriend who betrayed her love. Perhaps Naoya was her salvation. But with the way he pinned her against the wall and roughly sucked on the soft spot on her neck, his actions made her realize that he could be another form of damnation, too. He was heaven and hell. A sinner and a saint.

“N-Naoya.” First, his name escaped her lips with a soft, wanton moan.

The next, she was on her knees being pounded on by the man who glorified her body with praises she had never heard from her ex-boyfriend before. He fucked her like there was no tomorrow and paid no mercy at destroying her with the fast movements of his hips. While his nails left crescent marks on her flesh, it was added by the burning stretch on her scalp when he pulled her hair and met her buttocks with hard thrusts.

It was only then until Sera realized that the only way to be free from Satoru was to show him that someone of the same status could accept her for who she was.

About twenty-three miles away from the Zen’in estate, Satoru Gojou was in his penthouse delighting on the rollercoaster ride of having a pregnant wife and he would start it off by saying that he doesn’t ever want to get off this ride.

But before he would go to the good parts, there was something that had temporarily halted your domestic romance. The topic about Sera was still fresh and rumors in the office were varying for the most part because not everyone had directly heard his encounter with the ex-lover who tried to harm his child except for the security guards and the other two receptionists. Satoru was a volcano that exploded in front of Sera and he was spouting words like basaltic magma without paying attention to his surroundings because he was far too driven by the magnitude of his emotions. To think of it, how else would anyone expect a father and husband to react when someone tried to deliberately cause his wife’s miscarriage? He wasn’t overreacting. Protective maybe, but also reasonable without a doubt. A cup of chamomile tea would not instantly kill his child—it was the intention behind harming an innocent baby that made Satoru seethe in anger the most. Because if he had been lenient to Sera, what more unforgivable things could she have done in the future?

He gave Sera the benefit of the doubt for so long because he was the reason she was becoming a monster in the first place. He let her hit him, curse at him, and be all kinds of nasty to him in exchange for keeping his wife away from her rage. But that vile act she committed in the office? It was the last fucking straw.

Though, now that his volcano had exploded, he was back to his quiescence.

“I can’t believe she did that,” he voiced out his thoughts. In a bathtub at nine in the evening was where he lay still with a wife whose back was pressed against his toned chest. He had his arms around you, lips on your temple while his fingers were tracing your curve underwater. The fluff of white bubbles hugged your figure as you leaned back on his bare front and snuggled on his neck. “I was so angry. I felt like I was gonna be violent for once.”

The water reached up to his wife’s breasts, covering the slope of your flesh with suds. Even though the thought of Sera was still clouding his mind like an oncoming thunderstorm, your presence was what kept his mind calm.

“Don’t do that,” you reminded. “No matter how angry you are, violence isn’t the way to go.” You then pulled both of his hands and placed his palms directly on your tummy so he could feel your growing bump. The aroma of vanilla that came from the scented candles seemed to have made you drowsy and the cozy position you were in made things even more intimate.

Satoru wouldn’t even deny it. He loved bathing with you. He loved hot showers in the morning just as he loved your lazy bathtub sessions at night because it was considered quality time between a husband and wife. His heart had never felt this much bliss until he began sharing this domestic set-up with you and there was nothing in this world that could make him exchange all these little moments for anything else.

So instead of paying attention to the ex-girlfriend who nearly put his wife in danger, he decided that it was best to pamper you with love and affection. Sera had no place in his heart and mind now. Surely, you two still had plenty of time to talk about her uncalled for actions some other day when you weren’t prone to angina attacks because of extreme stress.

“Let’s not talk about her.” For your sake and his.

You looked up and offered a smile. “Okay. Why don’t we just talk about you, Mr. Gojou?” You pulled yourself up and had your husband holding your hand for support until you were able to straddle his lap. He must admit that it was a little stimulating how your knees brushed on his member as you moved. Or how big your breasts had gotten now that he had a full frontal view of them. “—up? Are you listening?”

Fuck. No, he absolutely wasn’t. In fact, he was only pretending when he cleared his throat and let his calloused fingers find your waist. “What were you saying?”

You may have rolled your eyes, but you still let your palms roam around his shoulders and in return made him chuckle. “I said, how do you think we should celebrate your birthday since it’s coming up?”

Satoru wouldn’t even have remembered his own birthday until you reminded him about it. All his mind could focus on was one question: who is this goddess of a wife? You must have come from another planet because there was no way a person could look as beautiful as you. Just everything—your eyes, your lips, your neck, your collarbones, your round tits, your delicious curves, your growing bump, your plump folds that were grinding against his thigh… Hold on, grinding?

He took a deep breath to keep himself together and held your hips as he forced his mind to think straight. Yes, your underwater mischief was certainly not an imagination. It seemed that you were indeed discreetly grinding your sweet pussy against his left thigh while placing a hand on his chest with doe eyes that feigned innocence.

“It’s just that…” Your chest rose up and down as you continued to undulate your hips by using his thigh to pleasure you. “You know, Ieiri called me this morning asking about my health and all, then she asked me if we had plans for your birthday since she didn’t want me to exhaust myself.”

Fine, Satoru would have to say that he was a loser at playing the no-touch game. He just couldn’t help his hands from traveling up to your chest, squeezing your breasts together before latching his mouth onto one nipple. He could hear your soft breathing when his tongue played with your bud—nipping, suckling, kissing. “Whatever you want, baby,” his voice was an octave deeper when he spoke before moving his mouth to your other bosom to give it the same attention as he did with your left one. “As long as I get to spend it with you. I don’t want you to tire yourself out just to celebrate it.”

You arched your back and gripped a fistful of white hair from the back of his head, clearly pleased by the skillful tongue that made your nipples a lot more perkier than before. “Mm.. Okay. How about a y-yacht cruise? With your best friends.”

By the time his mouth wandered off to your collarbones to leave hickeys everywhere, he could feel your hand reaching for the head of his now-throbbing cock that had become rock hard underwater. “Good idea,” he answered, marking your body while you began stroking his length. You tightened your hand around his thick girth, sliding your fist with ease because the water provided the lubrication that you needed. Satoru was already satisfied to fuck your pretty hand because he couldn’t risk rutting into you until you were out of breath. “Fuck, baby. Do you think we should—?”

“I can take it.” Dammit. The determination in your voice aroused him more than he already was. Along with the desperation in your eyes and the moans that left your parted mouth, your handjob skills seemed to have improved even underwater. He recognized that haze in your eyes, one that reflected the image of an animal in heat. It was taking over you. “Satoru, I want you. I’m going crazy here.”

Best part of pregnancy hormones? A very horny mommy.

It even looked like you would cry if he didn’t give it to you tonight. Satoru felt like he hit the jackpot with this and the way you were blatantly expressing your sexual needs was turning him on tenfold. “You’re so hot.” So hot and all his. So pregnant with his baby, too. “You want me to do what? Give me the specifics, honey.”

“I want your cock.” Goddamn were you straight to the point! Your enclosed hand tightened around his shaft, pumping him in the same pace and rhythm to how you rubbed your needy pussy on his thigh. “I want it in my mouth. Please… daddy? Can I please suck you?”

That kink of yours. Or was it his? Technically, he was a DILF-in-training so calling him ‘daddy’ did make sense. Still, how you desperately begged to have him just sent his ego up the ceiling.

And now that he mentioned it, his cute, sexy wife was a MILF, too.

“Why are you laughing?” Your eyebrows knitted in annoyance, and the hand that was pumping his cock was now hitting his chest. “What’s so funny?”

Satoru grinned and shook his head, grabbing your nape and smashing his peachy lips onto yours. There was a vibration from the hum that you released before you enveloped your lips around his, opening up to let his tongue invade every corner of your mouth. While both of your hands found their way to do the job on his cock again, his own hand cupped your pussy to rub your folds and separate the labia using his two fingers. Your cunt was plump and wet—regardless of the fact that your body was half-submerged on the tub—and Satoru was going feral at the thought of how good it must feel to fuck a pregnant pussy. He tested your tightness by inserting one finger through your hole and your walls were already clenching at a single slender finger. How much more if his cock was seven inch deep inside of you?

“Shit, baby. I might destroy you,” he breathed through your mouth, gasping before you tilted your head to shove your own tongue as deep as you possibly could. It was clear that you didn’t care because you were humping on his palm when he resumed orchestrating circular motions on your clit. You bit his lower lip as you twitched from the sensory overload and was left with no choice but to press your palms against his toned pecs. “Like that?”

“Fuck. Fuck. Yes,” you were moaning without a pause, closing your eyes to shut down all other senses except for the one down there. Since when did you even cuss this much? It was sexy. So fucking sexy. Your breasts were glistening under the ambient light as you threw your head back to savor the feeling of your husband’s fingers on your slick entrance. Satoru was at a loss of words upon seeing the sex goddess that he had unknowingly summoned and he was even more excited at pleasing his better half until you were whimpering and pushing his hand away. “Satoru, w-wait.”

“Hm?” He kissed your lips and pulled away with a smooching sound. By then, the wife was gesticulating her pointer finger upwards and commanding him to get up. Oh. It was daddy’s time. “Wait, babe. I got suds on my dick.”

You were both chuckling while he stood up and reached for the shower head, turning it on and allowing the water pressure to remove all of the suds on his pelvis and his cock. He used the showerhead to clean your now soap-free hands before he returned it back to its place, repositioning himself in front of a kneeling wife who looked up at him with docility and had him releasing traces of precum on his swollen pink tip. Imagine the view: he was towering over you, a seven-inch cock right above your face until you wrapped your hand near the base and laid your tongue flat on the skin under his length. You licked him from one corner to another as if you were an amateur pornstar who had done it countless times before. “This,” you referred to his dick, “is mine.”

“All yours, baby.” And with a mischievous smile at that.

No, actually, he was losing his mind. His frenzy was knocking at his door, ready to come out and fuck his wife all throughout the night. But the thing was, he couldn’t. You weren’t physically capable to handle marathon sex anymore. Gone were the days where he would spend his weekends trying out all these different sex positions with you. How has the time flown so fast?

“You’re so big,” you spoke breathlessly, swirling your tongue around his head before you proceeded to suck the precum off the slit. Good girl. He guided your face by touching your cheek, watching how you sucked him like a lollipop until you buried his cock into your mouth inch by inch. Slowly, slowly… holy shit!

“B-Babe,” he held his breath, eyes finding the ceiling to release his guttural moans. “Fuck, yeah.”

You were gagging on his shaft as you tried to fit all of his length down your throat, drool escaping the corners of your mouth while your uvula was being penetrated by his hardened member. The walls of your mouth were warm and tight—sending him into an orbit of immense pleasure as you began sucking your husband’s cock with your seemingly improved blowjob skills. He didn’t realize that he was roughly pulling your hair until he looked down and saw you teasingly batting your eyelashes up at him with hollow cheeks that acted as a suction to his twitching cock.

Well, you didn’t stop there. While Satoru was busy running his fingers through his white hair and throwing his head back with each salacious suck you did, you were on your knees bringing your lips on the tip of his cock before opening your mouth wide enough to suck him all the way to the base. Damn, you were deepthroating. At this point, your eyes were tearing up, your chin was against his bollocks, your nose was pressed on pelvis—did you hate it? No. Your face showed just how much you absolutely loved every second of it.

“Baby... That’s deep.” He couldn’t restrain the moans that flew out of his mouth left and right.

But when you released his cock with a pop, you continued pumping him with your hand and gave him the sexiest order he had ever heard from you. “Fuck my mouth and shoot your cum down my throat. I want every drop of it.”

Wide, sapphire eyes stared at you in surprise. Was he really talking to Mrs. Y/N Gojou right now? Was this woman really his wife? Before he could answer his own questions, you were already gripping his wrist and encouraging him hold your head in preparation for the face-fucking that you eagerly requested. “Shit. Are you sure?”

He got his confirmation when you licked the outline of his veins with a subtle grin. So that settled it then—mommy wants daddy’s cock, and who was he to deprive you of it? Just as you wished, he let his member enter your mouth while he gripped your head and angled it in a position where he could see his bulge on your cheek appearing and disappearing. He couldn’t help but display a playful grin at how he penetrated your inner cheek before he finally adjusted his cock down your throat. You already had a head start so there was no point at stalling things further when he slammed himself inside of your mouth in between rough thrusts. Each jostle was a gag from you and a low grunt from him, allowing a series of cuss words to ricochet off the tiled walls of your bathroom.

“Mm—!”

Just look at his wife. You didn’t even close your eyes when he fucked your mouth the way he would to your cunt, and despite the intrusion in your uvula, you were learning how to stretch your mouth around his cock in order to allow his penetration to go deep. Both of your hands were latching onto his knees to keep your balance and he could see the shape of your beautiful tits from the view he had up above.

His birthday was still in two days, but this already felt like an early gift.

“Fuck. Baby, fuck. That’s it.”

“Mm—mm!”

As soon as there was a coil of pleasure building up in his lower abdomen, he instantly knew that the next few seconds would end up with him shooting his load down to your throat. There was a wave of pleasure that washed his entire body and it wasn’t because of the water that surrounded you two, but because of the amount of semen he had ejaculated into your mouth.

“You’re so good, mommy.” He showered you with praises before he pulled out and saw you swallowing his warm seed like an obedient girl.

But to think that he had successfully done his job, he was wrong. You got up and crashed your lips onto his, wrapping your arms around your husband’s neck and pressing your chest on his toned ones while you two tasted each other’s mouth. Upon pulling away to catch your breath, that babyish pout and those pleading eyes of yours were back. “My turn, please?”

Satoru tucked a few strands of wet hair behind your ear concurrent to how he kneaded your bum with his other free hand. “You want me to eat you out, hm?”

“No,” you tugged his wrists. “I want you to fuck me. Hard and fast like usual.”

He was going to faint here. What and how the hell could he ever satiate such a needy wife? He had just released a huge amount of cum, and now another round was requested of him—not that he minded, but… was it safe?

“Can’t do hard and fast, mommy. Not safe for little munchkin,” he said, earning his wife’s displeasure. “And what if you run out of breath? You might get an angina attack.”

“But I can take it!” you whined, stepping out of the tub to leave your husband like a kid who was denied of her favorite candy.

Gojou chased you out of the tub and followed your footsteps when you headed towards the bathroom’s vanity and dried yourself up with a towel. “Okay, how about this,” he bargained, looking at your reflection on the mirror as he stood behind you, “we’ll have sex, but I’ll do it nice and slow. You have to tell me the minute your chest feels tight so I know when to stop.”

“Okay.” You faced him again, brushing your thumb on his lower lip before you gave him a soft, open-mouthed kiss. “Let’s do it.”

The question was: should he take you from the back or on the front? Satoru would consider the pros and cons here because he didn’t want to risk your health just for the sake of having sex with you.

If he took you from the back…

Pros:

You get to look at the mirror and watch him rawdog you from behind

He gets to see your ass

Cons:

He can’t hit it deep

He can’t kiss you

He can’t stare at your breasts

He can’t go nice and slow in this position

Your legs might give up if you stand for too long

If you did missionary above the vanity…

Pros:

He can be gentler with his pace

He can kiss you

He can watch all of you

You can lay your back against the mirror and let him do all of the job

He can see his cock going deep in and out of your cunt (What a dirty mind, Satoru!)

Cons:

You can’t see your goddess self in the mirror

No, there weren’t many cons here

The winner was obvious and he decided by himself without asking you of what you wanted because he could already tell that you would choose being fucked like a slut with how horny you were. But nope, not a chance, baby. He had to be gentle with his fragile wife.

So without a word, he hooked his forearms under your legs and hoisted you up above the vanity. “Satoru?” you asked, allowing him to spread your legs apart and give him a better view of your dripping pussy. He craved you just like how you craved him. The only difference was how he could still control himself while you were getting needier by the second.

“Is your back comfortable? Want me to put a towel behind you?” As soon as you nodded, he snatched the thickest rolled towel that he could find from the cupboard and placed it behind your back to offer as a cushion. Soon after, he leaned down to give you a soft kiss on the lips before he started trailing kisses on your neck, collarbone, and breasts—oh, this beautiful, tender pair. He suckled on one nipple and onto the other, flicking his tongue on the nub before he pulled away and began fondling the rounded mass and jiggling them playfully. “You’re the sexiest.”

You giggled, hands pressed atop the cold marble surface of the vanity. “Even when my tummy’s getting round?”

“Even if you get thrice as big,” he agreed, glancing at your belly and noticing how firm and round it had become. My baby’s in there. What if the next Einstein was from his own sperm? He was chuckling to himself at the thought before he planted kisses all over your small bump, speaking to his kid as though it could hear him. “Mommy and I will make love, so just sleep in there, okay? It’s rated X over here.”

Now it was time to start working. After attaching his lips onto your stomach, he moved away only to let two fingers rub your slick pussy. He stretched your labia and ejected his spit to use it as an added lubricant for your soaking entrance. “S-Satoru.” That’s it, baby. Moan for daddy. He was smirking before he dived in and encased his mouth on your pussy lips, French kissing the most sensitive part of your body by lapping it up with the use of his tongue. Your taste was his rhapsody and your mewls were just as dulcet. If your voice had a flavor, it would be sweet. Mellifluous. And your pussy? Heaven. Better than any other man could have in their lifetime. “A-Aah, m-more!”

His tongue was rolling inside of your core, lavishing the taste of your slick-coated cunt before he moved his wet muscle to your outer labia. Because your hole was free again, he inserted two fingers deep into your entrance all while his tongue played with your clitoris and its hood. Satoru was pretty good at multitasking, wasn’t he? Your legs were already shaking and he hasn’t even used his cock yet. Speaking of which, that cock of his had grown back to its glory and was pulsating because of how eager he was to be inside of you.

But back to his wife. Yes, his gorgeous, angelic wife who had her back against the mirror and her legs spread apart for the father of her child. You took the chance to grab a handful of your husband’s white hair when he simultaneously spoiled you with oral sex with two fingers deep inside of you. “Satoru, I-I c-can’t hold it in,” you begged, voice as shaky as your legs. “P-Please, fuck me.”

“Patience, honey,” he playfully reprimanded, but still doing as told by detaching his mouth from ravaging your cunt and withdrawing his fingers that were now sticky with your juices. He showed you how he sucked your slick from his digits before he positioned himself with your legs wrapped around his waist. However, maybe it would be fun to see how even more vocal you would become if he stalled things a little. “On second thought, daddy wants to hear more.”

You looked at him, confused. “What are you—baby, please. Don’t make me wait.” Your eyes gleamed in arousal. “Please, all of your cock inside me. Now.”

“How’s your breathing?”

“Fine!”

“Your heart?”

“I’m okay. Don’t worry about it, just…”

“How about your belly? Tight?”

“I said I’m okay!”

“You look like you’re about to cry. Can’t wait to have daddy’s cock?”

He knew what he was doing and he was a menace for it. You were already falling desperate to have him fill you up, but because he decided to have this little game, you went ahead and touched yourself as revenge. “Fuck you.”

The pearly whites of his teeth were visible as he grinned. “Oh, wife’s got a voyeurism kink, huh?” he teased, watching how you used your own fingers to make circular movements on your clit. He was getting hard just by seeing you touching yourself and he wanted to give you the same pleasurable view of your own. “In that case, I’ll join you.”

You were biting on your lip to prevent louder moans from coming out as you continued to play with yourself. He, on the other hand, was pumping his length because jerking off to a wife who was now fingering herself seemed like the naughtiest type of foreplay you two had ever done. “Satoru, please.”

“Yes, baby. Give me a minute.” He fucked his fist to the thought of you, grabbing your boob and squeezing it before he finally allowed his fat cock to meet your aching pussy. At first, he lubricated his shaft by grinding it between your folds, and with the assurance of being wet enough to enter your core, he sunk his swollen head in your moistened entrance and released a groan that came straight from his gut. “Ah—shit! You feel so tight.”

“Nngh!” You held onto the vanity and watched how your husband began moving inside of you. In ten seconds, half of his cock was in. In twenty, he was nearing the base. In a minute, his pelvis was finally pressed against your pubic region. “Satoru!”

“Does it hurt?” he asked because it was fucking good, but it might not be for you. “Tell me and I’ll adjust.”

You quickly shook your head. “No, no. It’s good. Please move.”

He was a simple man. He listened to his wife and obeyed her words if he saw no harm. The funny thing was, this situation made it look like it was the first time that you two were being intimate when you have already done it more than the days a calendar could offer. How else would a cute munchkin get inside mommy’s womb if not for the amount of lovemaking that you did before?

As much as he missed rutting into you at an animalistic pace, he could only do slow but rhythmic thrusts. Nonetheless, every slam made your breasts bounce and your velvet walls were clenching around his girth as though you were milking him of his cum.

“Y-Yeah, j-just like that!” Your dulcet moans were orgasmic to his ears and he spoiled you with a kiss on the lips before he increased his speed. “A-Aah—!”

Your hands held onto the surface for support, eyes on the ceiling as you allowed your husband to fuck your body with continuous slams. He could see the marks he had left on your chest turning purple and anyone would see those marks if you ever decided to wear an outfit with a plunging neckline. You were the canvas to his art of love and your body was the painting that reflected his passion.

Even more, Satoru was blessed with the sight of his wife’s swollen cunt that was adjusting to every ridge of his cock as your body naturally reacted to your husband with familiarity. Blotches of white liquid were staining his length and more of it had come out when you creamed all over his cock without preparation.

“Fuck!”

“Satoru, I-I’m cumming.”

“Me, too.”

And neither of you two saw it coming. Your back was arching, toes curling, knees shaking as he continued to ram himself into you through your overstimulation. There was no sign of a racing heart nor an oxygen deprived lungs so he enjoyed the exploding feeling of his own orgasm that made him release thick ropes of cum straight to your cervix. The steady rhythm had fallen sloppy and your face had morphed into both pleasure and relief. Along with the convulsive sensation that filled you to the brim, you were finally sated and pleased with the exchange of sensual gratification that your ever-so-generous husband had just given you.

“I love you,” he didn’t forget to say, kissing your lips before he pulled out.

If anyone was wondering, his wife was here. Beautifully naked. Radiant from the post-sex glow. Limp and reasonably exhausted. And most of all, pregnant from the husband that loved her with every fiber of his being.

You could no longer enjoy your wifely duties ever since Satoru hired an army of maids into your penthouse. Although they gave you privacy when needed, the simple household chores such as cleaning the house, folding laundry, and even cooking could no longer be done by you. You were handled with utmost care and were not allowed to do strenuous activities that could lead your body to fatigue. Frankly, all of this made you miss being your husband’s actual housewife instead of the queen bee he had turned you into your 72nd-floor beehive.

The only time you were only able to do more effort than intended was when you were possessed by a sex goddess last night (to which you were so embarrassed for the next morning, to which your husband also teased you for until afternoon). Satoru only decided that it was better to shut his mouth when you started glaring at him, deeming it safer not to mess with a pregnant wife.

But overall, he couldn’t exactly decline you when you asked if he could join you in grocery shopping that day.

“We have chefs,” he reasoned at first, “and we have maids who can go through the grocery list.”

Your response to his argument was to say that it would make you happy if he could just let you do it. You wanted to do it. He, as a husband, should let you do it.

“You get so overprotective sometimes,” you said, clinging to his arm as he pushed the shopping cart into the fresh produce section. Ah, more fruits and vegetables. You should have expected that.

“You can’t blame me. I just want you and baby safe,” was his reply, stopping when you reached the section of apples ranging from granny smith’s to fuji’s. He checked each apple with careful eyes as though he was thinking of which between the two similar fruits was better for you. Did he study a list of food that was good for pregnant women? His mom must have provided him with all the information he needed.

Satoru deserved a kiss on the cheek and so you gave him exactly that while he was busy choosing from the apples among the many selections they offered in this store—all of which made you realize, as cheesy as it might be, that the apple of his eye was you. “Fine, I like it when you’re protective.”

He brought his lips to your temple and rubbed your baby bump with his hand. “I’d be an angry tiger if anyone tries to harm mama cat.”

“Silly.” Rolling your eyes with a smile, you then moved to the next section.

Something that you had noticed whenever you were out with your husband was how people would always send you looks of interest. It was either they recognized Satoru ‘the famous handsome heir’ or they simply loved how you two exuded a lovey-dovey couple’s image. He had gotten used to the attention he was receiving because he was a magnet that attracted it way before you were his betrothed, but because you were now his wife, everyone had also started to pay close attention to you. You could never forget how one person from Twitter just said, ‘They’re such an attractive couple. Their baby would look like an angel,” and the sweet message made you all the more excited to meet your little munchkin.

“Oh, can I get this roasted sesame dressing for my salad?” you inquired your husband who looked attractive with his grey pants and half-unbuttoned white shirt from work.

He assessed the Kewpie bottle before giving a go signal. Or no signal in this case. “Contains mayonnaise. You can’t.”

“Hey!” you complained. “Only homemade mayonnaise is bad for me. This is commercial made. It’s completely safe.”

His sigh sounded like he didn’t want to give in. “Fine. We can deal with that.”

This man… You shook your head in disapproval. You swore to God, you would make him run to a convenience store at two in the morning to get the most random food and play it off as a craving if he decided to be strict with what you ate. He even lessened the junk food in your walk-in pantry because excessive sodium was bad for your health, especially for your heart. But who said anything about ‘excessive’? You were fine to eat a pack of Cheetos or two.

You two continued walking along the aisle while you had your hand on your stomach—something that you were instinctively doing to make sure that your baby could feel your presence. And all was fine and dandy until your husband entered a specific aisle.

Teas and coffees.

Something just snapped inside of him. The gentle, playful face that he was plastering earlier was now replaced by anger and frustration. The memory of Sera’s spiteful actions brought a sense of unfulfilled revenge from Satoru and you were about to tell him to let it go until he pulled his phone out and dialed a specific number.

“Miwa,” he greeted in a low voice, turning around and pretending to look at the row of coffees in front of him. “Do you have access to the company’s scholarship grants?”

You stood there behind the cart in silence. Scholarship?

Satoru spoke to his secretary again. “Yeah, I need you to terminate the one under Jiro Iwasaki. He doesn’t need it anymore.”

Iwasaki. That was Sera’s last name. Was that person related to her? He must be, because there was no doubt that Satoru was doing that as a payback to his ex-girlfriend who tried to deliberately harm his unborn child.

You didn’t speak up until he ended the call and looked at you as if nothing happened.

“Babe, let’s go—”

“Who’s Jiro to Sera?” you questioned, carefully watching the mask of austerity that casted his face.

He avoided your eyes and kept a stolid mien. “Doesn’t matter.”

“Satoru,” you adjusted the tone of your voice as a warning, “you know what’ll happen if you don’t answer me straight.”

You two would argue here in a very public place if need be. He seemed to understand that there was no way out of this except to be honest. “He’s Sera’s brother. I haven’t met him, but my dad offered him a scholarship so Sera would stay away from me.”

“Why are you punishing the poor boy?” You crossed your arms and earned his sigh. “Sera hasn’t been the nicest, but who knows how much that scholarship means to her brother? He has nothing to do with this. Don’t ruin a harmless person’s life.”

“She tried to ruin yours,” he countered despite your resolute voice. “And my child’s harmless too, isn’t he? But what did she do? She’s probably planning to put your life in danger. She should take this as a lesson.”

You chose not to argue with him further for your peace of mind because Satoru could never be convinced to take it easy on Sera. In the end, you couldn’t really blame him. He felt betrayed and he was scared for the safety of his baby, especially at the rate of her anger. It was understandable how he hired more bodyguards to keep an eye on you because sometimes people could do crazy things when they’re overtaken by rage, but wasn’t he the best example of that? Had he forgotten Bora Bora?

Little did he know, you called Miwa later that night to ask for more information about Sera’s brother. Your husband’s secretary promised not to tell him that you asked about it because she understood what you were trying to do. After all, she was in a situation where she had siblings to care about, too.

With a plan set in mind, you dialed your own trusted assistant to silently lay out your instructions while your husband was busy talking to the chefs. “Hi, Akari. Can you maybe award Jiro Iwasaki with a scholarship grant under my name? He studies at the University of Tokyo.”

Toji normally followed a consistent daily schedule that was already packed throughout the week. Everyone in the building knew that if they wanted to speak to the CEO, the appointment must be booked and the earliest he would be available would be the following week. His job was hectic and time was gold. God, how original was that motto? But it was true. Every second mattered and he wasn’t the type of man who would waste his time lingering around on a weekday and not dealing with important business matters.

Yet here he was, making an exception for his good friend.

Gen was in dire straits. He knew the moment she asked to meet up for a ‘quick chat’ at the café near their office that she was going to talk about anything else but business. This woman could handle a financial conglomerate all on her own so why would she need Toji’s help? The obvious answer: it was about you.

He had been colleagues with Gen since college and he was familiar with how protective of a sister she could be. Only her family could put stress on her face, that crease on her forehead, that inverted slope on her lips—yup, she wasn’t the least bit happy.

“Everything alright?” he asked over a cup of hot brewed coffee and freshly baked croissants. They had specifically chosen a spot saved for the VIPs, one that was usually reserved for private meetings since this café was in the heart of the central business district.

Gen stared at the table with an empty gaze. She seemed to be thinking deeply before she looked up and met his eyes. “Toji, can I trust you with information that you can never, ever share with anyone?”

Here we go. He could already tell what it was about without Gen specifically disclosing it to him. In fact, her question was just for formality. She had already put enough trust to even meet with him here. “Go ahead. You have my word.”

“About my sister,” she didn’t hesitate to cut to the chase, drawing a deep breath and releasing it into a weary exhale, “I know you and her have this connection that I wasn’t expecting you guys to have. You know, she doesn’t have that many guy friends so I take it she trusts you completely for her to stick around.”

He gave a nod as a response. “Why? Something going on with her?”

Gen opened her mouth to speak, but no words came out. Only empty sighs and eyes that glanced over the window as though the answer to her dilemma was to stare at the men and women in business attires who were walking on the street. After a minute of contemplation, she finally returned her gaze back to him and spilled her mind, “I got someone to investigate on Satoru and there’s just… I learned so much about him.”

“Good or bad?” he asked, pretending not to know.

“Mostly bad.” Gen was obviously feeling tense. “He has a mistress.”

Toji’s breathing was static for a good minute. “Had,” he clarified, much to her surprise. “Not anymore.”

“So y-you knew?” Her eyes had become round. “Y/N told you, huh? Oh my, God. I feel so stupid. I knew it, I knew she was going to confide in you because she was scared that I’d be lashing out at Satoru if she told me. I can’t believe I treated that bastard like my own brother!”

As a man himself, he couldn’t really speak ill about another woman’s husband because this wasn’t his marriage. “Gen, I’m not really in the position to be your sister’s spokesperson.”

Although your sister was smiling, the tension on her face was still there. It was the most vivid expression that could be read on her face. “I know, and I’m sorry for wasting your time on this. I��m just on a deadend right now. I can’t speak to my dad about this yet. I can’t confront Satoru directly because heaven knows what I would do. Then there’s my sister, she’s in her first trimester. It’s gonna stress her out and I promised myself that whatever I find out about her husband’s affair, I’ll keep it to myself until the time’s ready. I already suspected that he was cheating on her, but confirming it really disgusted me.”

“You’ve only heard one side of the story,” he considered, keeping a neutral voice as he spoke. Toji guessed that Gen’s knowledge did not exactly reach the part where her sister was suffering a heart condition because otherwise she would have mentioned it by now.

“I honestly don’t need to hear Satoru’s side of the story,” she spat while gripping the coffee mug tighter. “He hated the marriage, cheated on my sister out of spite, probably treated her like shit the whole time. You know how I found out? Someone tipped me to speak to Mei Mei, their finance director. I run the finance industry in this country so imagine how easy it was for me to get her to spill all the things she knows. How he was dating his father’s previous secretary, how he brought her to Bora Bora along with my sister, how he apparently took her to a hospital thinking she was pregnant. He deserves none of my sympathy!”

Any normal person would think that Gen was being petty for revealing Satoru’s scandals to his biggest company rival. Why? Because Toji could easily use this information and ruin Gojou’s image to the public. Just one anonymous word to the media and the Gojou Group would foresee a massive drop on the stock market. While that may be true, Gen was actually being smart. She knew that Toji's loyalty was where common sense lies. She was aware that if he wanted to ruin Satoru, he would have done it long ago because you’ve basically revealed the downsides of your marriage to him since your first encounter at the auction. But see, even if he had been aware of your husband’s shortcomings—his neglect, his infidelity, his greed—Toji stayed in his lane and never let himself get caught in the middle. That was why Gen found the assurance to tell him everything that she was able to gather from her little research.

“So what do you plan to do?” he inquired because he couldn’t exactly comment about your marriage. “Y/N’s health is top priority. She has a baby. You don’t wanna risk her.”

Not just because she’s pregnant, but also because she has a fragile heart, he silently thought while hoping that Gen would do the right thing.

Thankfully, she seemed to understand her boundaries. “No, I’ll deal with it behind the scenes. First, I wanna know who the mistress is. Then I’ll consult my husband about the legal consequences that Satoru could face on the grounds of a divorce if my sister ever ends up deciding on it. She told me she’s not thinking about a divorce anymore, but I’ll have everything prepared in case she changes her mind. I’ll eventually pull out our investments from the Gojou Group, too.”

Toji surely loved the sight of this businesswoman getting her work done impeccably. Maki and Mai should learn from her. Of course, Gen of all people would make sure that her family’s assets would not be affected by being one step ahead, but a small part of him also wondered about this, “What if Y/N never pursues a divorce?”

“That’s exactly my problem,” she admitted, slumping. “Look, our families will never be the same. I can’t look at him the same anymore. I can solve math easily, but what I can’t understand is why my sister would stay with someone who treats her like that.”

He smiled. “There’s no equation to her reasoning,” he told her straight to the point. “It’s love. Regardless if they have a baby, regardless if he used to neglect her as a wife, we don’t know what else they shared within their marriage. We know the ugly parts of it, but do we know the good parts? Do we know what kind of connection they must have shared for him to suddenly have a change of heart? It’s not a one way street. If you count the number of terrible things he might’ve done, you should also think of the positive efforts he willingly showed her. Your sister thinks that way—she’s handing out hope and sympathy like they’re flyers.”

The only reaction Gen could express was to massage her temple and think it through. “I understand she has an altruistic nature, but I can’t help but be worried. I want her to realize that it’s okay to take a step back if she’s being wronged. She just needs to escape that strong connection she has with him.”

“That’s gonna be difficult,” his honesty was better said than not. “I always see them like this. She’s the star and he’s the black hole. Gravity attracts her to him and once she’s sucked into that void, it makes him inescapable.”

Was that a good analogy? Toji felt like he had been way too poetic with that one.

“You’re right. That’s basically how they are ever since they were kids,” she claimed, nodding to herself while possibly recalling her childhood memories. “It’s sad because Satoru loved her so much back then so I don’t know why he would do these things to her now.”

He offered a shrug. “Experiences can change a person.”

Toji didn’t think that Gen would suddenly widen her eyes as though she just remembered something from his words. And as soon as she recollected her thoughts, she was quick to speak up. “There’s actually something else I found out about Satoru,” she revealed in intrigue, “his stepmother was sabotaging him all this time. She was paying Mei Mei to do all the dirty work and oust him from becoming the CEO. Remember that project he had planned for the Art Museum? Construction almost started, but he couldn’t finalize it because the allotted budget was miscalculated so his father got furious.”

He, too, was a businessman. He could understand how tough and pressuring it was to run a conglomerate especially if you were the sole heir, so for Satoru to have all these nasty people sabotaging his business plans, it was beyond unbelievable. But then again, it must be the taste of his own karma. Satoru was still young and could learn from his mistakes, but what he should also watch out for was the people he was closely dealing with. A suffering husband would bring a suffering wife down with him. Toji couldn’t let you go through that much stress.

“I think you should deal with this the right way, Gen,” he advised, once and for all. “You discovered so many things about him. If you wanna confront Satoru, it might be best to keep your sister out of it.”

How ironic was it that while he was talking to your sister, he suddenly received a text message with your name on the notification?

You: Hey, Toji! :) I’m here on 4th Street. Can I meet up with you quickly?

You: I just have to drop off my very overdue gifts for Maki, Mai, and Megumi

Right. It had been awhile since he last saw you, hasn’t he? Toji looked up at Gen and told her the sudden situation. “Gen, I think Y/N’s coming here right now to see me.”

“What—” The woman panicked and scrambled to reach for her bag. “No, I can’t be seen here with you. I told her I’m gonna be too busy all day. I just can’t face her right now or else I’ll—”

“Run your mouth?” chuckled Toji, nodding understandingly. “It’s okay. You definitely shouldn’t talk to her while you’re still overwhelmed.”

Gen nodded in agreement, getting up from her seat and gesturing her leave. “Okay, well I’m gonna go back to my office now. I trust you, Toji.”

“Don’t worry about it,” he promised, watching as the CEO of Creston left in haste with the click and clack of her heels echoing through the distance.

Toji had to wait until Gen had completely left before he deemed that the coast was clear. And it didn’t really take long for you to arrive after he texted you his exact location, except he wasn’t expecting another man’s presence along with yours.

That said man was none other than the white-haired, blue-eyed husband that was the main topic between his and Gen’s conversation not more than a few minutes ago. There were two things he found strange here: firstly, since when did Gojou accompany you while meeting up with him? Second, why wasn’t he showing any signs of animosity? Toji could still remember how the man threw a tantrum when he picked you up at the Zen’in estate last time, and although many things had happened since then, he didn’t think that Satoru would look like a tamed animal next to his wife.

“Toji, hey!” As for you, his heart softened when he saw that bright smile on your face. That smile where your cheekbones were prominent and your eyes were shining. Your bump wasn’t visible underneath your coat dress, but it was definitely there. He concluded that you must be having a happy pregnancy because your radiance was blinding. “Oh, were you with someone?”

He cleared his throat, noticing how your eyes scanned the seat, and realizing that Gen’s coffee mug was still there. “Ah, that… I had a meeting with an investor,” he played it off before acknowledging your husband who pulled a seat for you. “Hey, how are things?”

Satoru took his seat next to you with an arm secured behind your backrest. “Been better. My wife wanted to see you and I had to keep an eye on her.”

“For what?” Toji quipped. “She’s not gonna cheat on you.”

With a deep breath, the white-haired man restrained the visible jealousy building inside of him. Why did Satoru not get angry? Was it because of the hand you placed on his lap? Or perhaps the way you might have squeezed his hand under the table? “It’s not that. She’s pregnant and fragile. I have to make sure she won’t be collapsing out of nowhere.”

Oh. For a moment, Toji traded looks with you as if you two could understand each other’s thoughts telepathically. The nod you sent him gave him the idea that Satoru was already aware of your heart condition. No wonder he was protective, but how exactly did that conversation go? He suspected that it was a heartfelt moment for the man to realize how much his wife was suffering because of him. Toji had been there. Toji could understand the fear of losing a wife.

“Well, it’s good that you’re keeping an eye on her,” he told your husband before he turned his head towards you. How was it that he couldn’t resist having a soft heart with just one look at your face? “Congratulations on the baby.”

He couldn’t even keep his eyes off you when your glowing face lit up from those simple words. “Thank you, Toji.” As you smiled, you were also caressing your belly under the table as if your baby was listening to the conversation. He wouldn’t really doubt how much motherhood would suit you since you were kind and nurturing—some of the main traits that any man would dream to have from their wife. He was about to ask how you were going to handle your pregnancy now that you couldn’t take nitrates, but he was cut off when you suddenly reached under the table to hand him a paper bag. “My gift for the kids. It took me a while, huh?”

“I’m sure they’ll be excited to fit them.” Toji accepted your gift with a smile that he rarely gave anyone. If any employee from the Zen’in Group was here, they would definitely be intrigued to see how their strict boss was smiling on a hectic weekday. Why not? Your happiness was contagious. “Mai already convinced Maki and Megumi to have their little photoshoot while wearing the clothes so their followers can see your designs.”

Your features softened exactly like he did. “I miss them so much.”

“They miss you, too.” He watched the small pout on your lips, then placed his focus back to your eyes. “Did you really sew these?”

Even with your makeup, you were a natural. “Yeah, just Maki’s actually. It was the least complicated to sew, but I’m learning. My seamstress and I work at the studio every day.”

Before his presence would be forgotten, Satoru finally decided to chime in and remind the two of them that he was still there. “She’s so passionate about it. Wouldn’t even let me disturb her while she’s designing and cutting patterns.”

At least, Toji was glad that your husband was supportive of your dreams. You never would have been confident to pursue the industry if you weren’t given a boost of motivation. “I’m really glad you’re doing something you love, Y/N.”

“Yeah, well…” You grinned. “I still have a long way to go. You may need to chase Moncler and give them that leasing space.”

A low chuckle left his scarred lips. He was about to make another ‘Mrs. Zen’in’ joke until he saw the look on Satoru’s face. The man didn’t seem aggressively jealous, however. He appeared more like a puppy who wasn’t getting enough attention from his owner. How funny was that sight?

“I’ll support whatever you want,” was what Toji ended up saying to you, “I always will.”

While Satoru found his silence, you reached for Toji’s hand atop the table and squeezed it in gratitude. “I’m so grateful for you, Toji.”

“—I think you’re mistaken here. My brother isn’t supposed to pay for fees. Why is he being disenrolled for his classes?” Sera questioned the woman behind the registrar. “He has a scholarship grant.”

Considering the stress she had gone through for the past week—the rumors, the lack of job, the tight budget—Sera could barely get any sleep and it was driving her insane. They couldn’t even pay the house rent for the next three months and now her brother was apparently being asked to pay for tuition fees when he wasn’t supposed to. She wasn’t really planning to go to his university, but after finding out that Jiro was working two jobs a day just to earn enough and pay the fees, Sera knew she had to do something.

Strangely enough, the woman at the cashier denied her claim. “I’m sorry, Miss Iwasaki. We’ve already confirmed with the Office of Financial Aid and Scholarships. Your brother’s scholarship has been terminated.”

What?! Sera shook her head frantically. “No, no. Wait, that can’t be…” This should be Satoru’s decision. This was his revenge!

“I’m sorry,” the woman continued behind the glass wall, “The fees would have to be settled before he can take his classes.”

No… Sera felt like the ground she was standing on was splitting into two. She wasn’t really expecting that the outcome of her actions would lead to this, and she was even more devastated that the man she loved would go as far as ruining her family’s life. Did Satoru even love her at all? How could someone who once made an oath to love her unconditionally do something like this? Her chest felt tight. Constricted. Her heart was bleeding from the pain and heartbreak that she was feeling.

How else could she save her brother now? Her guilt was chastising her soul knowing that this was all her fault. This was her comeuppance and whether she liked it or not, her family would suffer on behalf of her.

Her lips were quivering when she decided to walk out of the university registrar, but upon exiting the place, she was stopped by the same woman who incessantly denied her claims not long ago. “Hang on, Miss Iwasaki.”

Turning around, she was met by the apologetic eyes of the woman and a student assistant who was carrying a file in her hand. “Please accept my apologies for the confusion. It seems that the files were not updated,” said the lady. “A full scholarship was recently granted to your brother under Mrs. Y/N Gojou.”

“C-Come again?” Sera looked at her in surprise.

“It was filed the same day the previous one was terminated,” she confirmed, stapling the papers and placing them back on her desk. “Looks like your brother has nothing to worry about.”

She couldn’t believe this. She couldn’t absolutely wrap her mind around this. A scholarship grant by you? After she literally tried to harm your child because of her jealousy? Sera was in complete disbelief and felt like she was going to faint from the sudden news. This might be staged, too. Maybe you got Satoru to cancel the scholarship and placed it under your name so you could antagonize her even more? That must be the reason because there was no way in hell that you would help her.

No, you couldn’t be too kind like that. Or were you?

Sera couldn’t answer all the questions in her head and the only time she got distracted was when her phone started buzzing nonstop. She withdrew the gadget from her bag and saw the caller ID of the very woman she wanted to avoid. Miss Eula.

Still, she couldn’t really just ignore her after everything. Perhaps this was also the best opportunity to tell her that she no longer wanted to associate herself with her. “Hey, Miss Eula?”

“Sera, we need to talk. Be quick and come meet me at this place. I’ll send you the address,” the lackadaisical tone of hers suggested that she wasn’t one to care about the things that had happened to Sera because of her wrongful advice.

And although the older woman made her seethe inside, she had to give in. “I’ll be there.”

The address wasn’t a sketchy place that could have led to her being kidnapped like they did in the movies. It was actually a private balcony of a 5-star restaurant that overlooked the Tokyo bay. It didn’t really surprise Sera to see Miss Eula with her fur coat, huge sunglasses, and ostentatious jewelry when she met with her at a reserved table that had the best view of the city.

“Sit down,” she ordered, taking her sunglasses off and scrutinizing Sera’s face. “I heard about the stunt that you pulled in the office.”

Sera held her breath. “Stunt? You’re the one who encouraged me to do it, Miss Eula. My life’s ruined.”

“Oh, please. You’re a big girl. You act like I held you at gunpoint so you could do it,” she released a scoff, totally unbothered as she sipped on her red wine. “Besides, your relationship with Satoru can’t be saved. He’s in love with his wife.”

Balling her hands into fists, she couldn’t control the way she spoke with gritted teeth, “Then, why did you want to see me?”

She didn’t even want to get started on the rumors that had spread like wildfire in the office. Sera was labeled as a homewrecker and a child killer—both of which varied depending on the story. One rumor suggested that she tried to poison you because of her jealousy which was why Satoru furiously stormed off to see her. Another rumor suggested that she harassed you because she was angry that she couldn’t legally bear Satoru’s child since she was an alleged mistress. The weirdest rumor of all was how Sera was accused of blackmailing you for money because she apparently knew some things that the public were not aware of.

Like what? That Satoru was only meant to use you in the beginning?

Either way, those rumors eventually stopped because Satoru’s father handled everything to protect his son’s image now that he was expecting a grandchild from his precious daughter-in-law. All employees would be immediately terminated, even sued for defamation, once caught spreading rumors about his son’s infidelity. So what had happened to the man who unapologetically abused his son? Was he just protecting him to lessen the damage of a foreseeable conflict with investors?

Surprisingly, that was not the topic Eula wanted to talk about when she spoke again, “I don’t give a damn about Satoru and his wife. I already realized that a baby can’t get in my way,” she claimed, setting her wine glass back on the table. “I wanna talk about Naoya. Did you think I wasn’t aware that you’ve been seeing him a lot these days?”

Naoya. Sera remembered his warning about this woman when they last saw each other and the memory started flooding her head like a waterfall.

‘She’s obsessive’, he said. ‘She’s jealous of you’, he said. The obvious fury in Miss Eula’s eyes was a clear indication of how true Naoya’s words were and Sera was revolted by it.

“What about it?” She crossed her arms and held her chin up high remembering how this was the exact gesture you did when you confronted Sera before. “Naoya and I like each other. He’s respectful of me, he understands me, and he doesn’t take me for granted. Please leave him alone, Miss Eula. He told me he feels disgusted with you.”

Miss Eula clenched her jaw. “What did you say?” In a span of three seconds, the older woman lost it. “How dare you say that!”

“Aah—!” Sera yelped when the crazy woman splashed wine all over her face, staining her favorite white dress that she wore on her first date with her ex-boyfriend. “Miss Eula!”

“What, you’re seducing Naoya and now you think you’re better? You leech!” she brutally spat while Sera hastily grabbed a napkin to wipe her face. “Listen here, Sera. You wanna know why you can never win Satoru’s heart and live a lavish life just like mine? Because you’re too ambitious. You’re trying so hard to belong to a place where you don’t fit in. And no, don’t tell me to look in the mirror. At least I managed to marry a wealthy man and I admit that I’m a gold digger. Meanwhile, you’re out here trying to convince everyone that you’re not after Satoru’s money. Isn’t that why you’re leeching off of Naoya, too? You want his money and status because you can’t have it from Satoru anymore.”

She hoped that the woman could feel the fire burning through her glare. If only looks could kill. “That’s not true, I really am not after the money—”

“Don’t feed me with your bullshit.” Eula spitefully laughed. “I’ve been there, darling. I know how women like us become desperate when we no longer have other resources. But let me tell you this, stay away from Naoya if you don’t want trouble coming your way.”

Obsessive. Again, Naoya was right. Instead of succumbing to her threat, Sera chose to stand on her ground. “Why would I stay away from him? What are you to him? Because as far as I know, he wants to throw up whenever he sees you.” She then unbuttoned her blouse and showed the marks on her collarbone, marks that made Eula’s nose flare in absolute rage. “I slept with him and we both liked it, so why would I stay away from him when he clearly wants me?”

“You—!” The older woman lunged at Sera, grabbing a fistful of her hair and pulling it as she screamed in anger. Eula was acting like an animal that had gone wild and it was so unexpected that she would ever let her emotions go out of control just because of a younger man who wanted nothing to do with her.

“You’re crazy! Let me go!” Sera desperately tried to break free even though her scalp was burning from the stretch. “I’m gonna tell your husband that you’re sexually harassing a younger man! You’re a freak!”

Eula let go of her, only to slap her cheek in return. “Don’t you dare. Don’t you fucking dare! I’ll kill you!” her warnings were added with another slap. “And how dare you say Naoya hates me when we have a mutual relationship! Stop creating your own narrative just because you’re unhappy with your pathetic life. He’s mine!”

Sera held her swollen cheek and let out a disgusted scoff. “You’re delusional, Miss Eula. Go visit a therapist. Satoru was right about you all along. You’re sick in the head.”

“And you’re a wannabe slut who tried to kill someone else’s unborn child!” Eula returned a nasty remark after she took umbrage from Sera’s words. “You can’t ruin my life. You’re just a poor, irrelevant girl trying to make a desperate entrance to high society. Leave him alone or you’ll regret it. Stop trying to be me so badly.”

There was no need to fall into Eula’s trap. Sera learned that the best way to deflect her manipulation was to go against her.

“I’d rather die than to end up like you.”

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