#because ''he was right to expose us. we are a sin that must be corrected. he was only looking out for the clan and i killed him for it'' | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

frmartinshomiliesandreflections · 4 months

Text

18th December >> Fr. Martin's Gospel Reflections / Homilies on Matthew 1:18-24 for the 18th December: ‘She will give birth to a son, and you must name him Jesus’.

18th December

Gospel (Except USA) Matthew 1:18-24 How Jesus Christ came to be born.

This is how Jesus Christ came to be born. His mother Mary was betrothed to Joseph; but before they came to live together she was found to be with child through the Holy Spirit. Her husband Joseph; being a man of honour and wanting to spare her publicity, decided to divorce her informally. He had made up his mind to do this when the angel of the Lord appeared to him in a dream and said, ‘Joseph son of David, do not be afraid to take Mary home as your wife, because she has conceived what is in her by the Holy Spirit. She will give birth to a son and you must name him Jesus, because he is the one who is to save his people from their sins.’ Now all this took place to fulfil the words spoken by the Lord through the prophet:

The virgin will conceive and give birth to a son and they will call him Emmanuel,

a name which means ‘God-is-with-us.’ When Joseph woke up he did what the angel of the Lord had told him to do: he took his wife to his home.

Gospel (USA) Matthew 1:18-25 Jesus was born of Mary, the betrothed of Joseph, a son of David.

This is how the birth of Jesus Christ came about. When his mother Mary was betrothed to Joseph, but before they lived together, she was found with child through the Holy Spirit. Joseph her husband, since he was a righteous man, yet unwilling to expose her to shame, decided to divorce her quietly. Such was his intention when, behold, the angel of the Lord appeared to him in a dream and said, “Joseph, son of David, do not be afraid to take Mary your wife into your home. For it is through the Holy Spirit that this child has been conceived in her. She will bear a son and you are to name him Jesus, because he will save his people from their sins.” All this took place to fulfill what the Lord had said through the prophet:

Behold, the virgin shall be with child and bear a son, and they shall name him Emmanuel,

which means “God is with us.” When Joseph awoke, he did as the angel of the Lord had commanded him and took his wife into his home. He had no relations with her until she bore a son, and he named him Jesus.

Reflections (9)

(i) 18th December

In today’s gospel reading we find Joseph in something of a moral dilemma. He discovered that his betrothed, Mary, was pregnant, even though they had not come to live together as husband and wife. Concluding that Mary had been unfaithful to him, he felt he had no option but to divorce her. Betrothal was more than our engagement; it was equivalent to being legally married. However, to protect Mary’s honour, he would divorce her informally, with as little publicity as possible. Joseph’s intentions were honourable. Yet, they were not in accordance with God’s will for him or for Mary. When God communicated to him through an angel in a dream, Joseph understood that Mary’s pregnancy was the work of the Holy Spirit. Joseph was instructed to take Mary to his home as his wife and to name Mary’s child Jesus. Joseph proceeded to do what God asked of him. It is often the way in our own lives that we struggle to discern what God is asking of us. Like Joseph, our initial sense of what God wants of us, what is the best thing to do, is not always correct. We sometimes have to reflect further on our initial decision, to sleep on it, as we say, before we come to fully understand what God is asking of us, what is the right direction to take in the complex situations in which we often find ourselves. Saint Paul in his letter to the church in Rome hopes that they ‘may discern what is the will of God, what is good and acceptable and perfect’ (12:2). In our efforts to discern this, we are not left to our own devices. Jesus’ other name was Emmanuel, God with us. The risen Lord is always with us, especially in those moments when, like Joseph, we struggle to discern what might be the good, acceptable and perfect thing to do. The Lord will enlighten us through the Holy Spirit, if we invite the Lord into our decision making through prayer and, perhaps, through conversation with others. Joseph inspires us to be open to the Lord’s guidance so that we end up doing what the Lord wants.

And/Or

(ii) 18th December

When we hear the term the ‘Annunciation’ we probably think of the story of the angel Gabriel’s annunciation to Mary in the gospel of Luke. This is the scene that has captured the imagination of artists all through the centuries. In Matthew’s gospel, however, there is no annunciation to Mary, but there is an annunciation to Joseph. That is the gospel reading we have just heard. In Luke’s gospel, the angel Gabriel says to Mary, ‘Do not be afraid’. In Matthew, the nameless angel says to Joseph, ‘Do not be afraid’. God was doing something new, something extraordinary, in the life of Mary and of Joseph, indeed, in the life of the human race. The unprecedented nature of what God was doing led to understandable fear and anxiety in the lives of those most directly affected, Mary and Joseph. Both of them needed a word of reassurance, ‘Do not be afraid’ at the beginning of this new phase of what God was doing. In times of transition when disturbing events are occurring around us, we all need to hear those words, ‘Do not be afraid’. They are words which assure us of God’s presence, God-with-us, Emmanuel, at the heart of all that is happening, even at the heart of Calvary.

And/Or

(iii) 18th December

Joseph features very prominently in Matthew’s telling of the story of the birth and childhood of Jesus. In this morning’s gospel reading, Joseph finds himself in a dilemma. Although betrothed to Mary and, therefore, legally husband and wife, they had not yet lived as husband and wife together and, yet, Mary was pregnant with child. This was a less than ideal situation for Joseph and he tried to do the decent thing by intending to divorce Mary quietly and informally. It was only subsequently that it was revealed to Joseph that Mary’s pregnancy was miraculous, the work of the Holy Spirit. Her child would be legally his but would be God’s child in a unique way. We often find ourselves, like Joseph, in situations that are not ideal. Things turn out in a way that we had not intended and had not wanted. We can be thrown by the unexpected course of events and we wonder what we should be doing. Sometimes what is asked of us is to do the decent thing, the good thing, the generous and noble thing. In doing that much, we open ourselves up to the Lord’s presence and to his life-giving work. In time he can reveal to us the good in the situation that we did not originally see.

And/Or

(iv) 18th December

In Matthew’s account of the birth of Jesus it is Joseph who features prominently, rather than Mary as is the case in Luke’s account of the birth of Jesus. In the history of art, Joseph tends to be depicted as an older man. In reality, he must have been a young, vibrant man, not much older than his young betrothed, Mary. He is described in this morning’s gospel reading as a ‘man of honour’. A more literal translation would be a ‘just man’. However, his was a justice that was tempered by mercy. Having discovered that Mary, his legal wife at the time, was pregnant with child before they had come to live together, the justice of the Jewish Law would have permitted Joseph to expose Mary publicly, and the consequences for Mary would have been very serious. Instead, Joseph decided to divorce her informally and quietly. He showed that quality of mercy that would characterize Jesus’ interpretation of the Jewish Law. It was subsequently announced to Joseph, by an angel, that Mary had conceived her child through the Holy Spirit and that she had not been unfaithful to Joseph. In obedience to the word of the angel, Joseph immediately took Mary to his home as his wife. Joseph is someone we can identify with in many ways. We resonate with his struggle to do the right thing, the decent thing, the good thing in the complex circumstances that life often throws up. In this struggle he was clearly open to God’s guidance and that openness ensured that, in the end, he did what God wanted of him. We can all learn from this good and decent man

And/Or

(v) 18th December

Joseph features very prominently in the story of Jesus’ birth that we find in Matthew’s gospel. Luke’s account of Jesus’ birth places more of a focus on Mary. In this morning’s gospel reading from Matthew, Joseph is portrayed as finding himself in a very confusing and awkward situation. Although betrothed to Mary, they have not yet come to live together as husband and wife, and, yet, he discovers that Mary is with child. He can only conclude that Mary has broken the sixth commandment. In this situation his basic decency shows itself in his desire to divorce her in a way that protected Mary and spared her publicity. In those few verses, Matthew gives us a sense of Joseph as a decent man, a good man who seeks to do the very best in a difficult situation that was not of his making. A messenger from the Lord, that allowed Joseph to understand the real reason for Mary’s pregnancy. She conceived what was in her by the Holy Spirit. Once again, Joseph shows his decency, his fundamental goodness, his deep faith, in going on to do what the angel has instructed him to do, take Mary home as his wife. Reading that gospel story, we sense that Jesus was very fortunate to have such a special man for his father throughout his formative years. Joseph’s deeply rooted faith which shaped his character must have had a hugely formative impact on the child Jesus, enabling him to grow in wisdom and in favour before God and others. Joseph can be an inspiration to us all. He reminds us that we are all called to help the Lord to grow in each other. Our own goodness, decency and faith can be a very significant force for good in the lives of others. As we grow in our own relationship with the Lord, we are helping others to do the same, without us always realizing it.

And/Or

(vi) 18th December

In today’s gospel reading we find Joseph struggling to do the right thing, what he believed God wanted of him. Mary’s unexplained pregnancy left him in a very difficult situation. Presuming that her pregnancy indicated she had been unfaithful to him, Joseph found himself torn between what he understood God’s law required him to do, viz. divorce Mary, and his own affectionate feelings for her. In this confusing situation, the gospel reading tells us that Joseph received guidance from the Lord, which he promptly followed. The complex situation in which Joseph found himself is not unlike the kind of situations in which many of us find ourselves from time to time. In so many of life’s situations the best way forward is not always immediately clear. Like Joseph in the gospel reading, we can find ourselves torn between what our head is telling us and what our heart is saying to us. The gospel reading today invites us to have something of the openness of Joseph to the Lord’s guidance. Joseph received the Lord’s guidance through an angel. The Lord’s guidance will often come to us through more ordinary means, such as through those in whom we confide. Their perspective on the situation we are struggling with can often bring a new and a fresh light. We can also experience the Lord’s guidance through prayer. In prayer we allow the Lord to enlighten our minds and hearts so that we can move forward in the light that he provides.

And/Or

(vii) 18th December

As we are only a week away from the feast of Christmas, the gospel readings for this week focus on the events associated with the birth and childhood of Jesus. This morning’s gospel reading is Matthew’s account of the annunciation of the birth of Jesus. In Luke’s gospel, the annunciation of Jesus’ birth is made to Mary; in Matthew’s gospel, it is made to Joseph. Artists have tended to depict Luke’s version of the annunciation to Mary much more often than Matthew’s version of the annunciation to Joseph. In both accounts, the angel announces that Mary is to conceive her child through the Holy Spirit. In both accounts there is a rich description of the unique identity of the child. Matthew’s account of the annunciation highlights two aspects of the identity of Mary’s child. He is to be named Jesus, a name which means in Hebrew ‘the Lord saves’, because he is to save God’s people from their sins. He is also to be named Emmanuel, which is Hebrew means ‘God is with us’. Combining these names indicates that Jesus is the presence of the loving mercy of God. When we look upon this child, we are looking upon God with us, or as Saint Paul says, God for us, working to reconcile us to himself. Jesus was born, lived and died, to reconcile us to God, to lead us back to God. At the last meal Jesus had with his disciples before his death, the last supper, he said, ‘this is my blood of the covenant, which is poured out for many for the forgiveness of sins’. It is because Jesus is the face of God’s mercy that we celebrate his birth with such gladness and hope. He has shown us that nothing need come between us and the love of God.

(viii) 18th December

When we hear the term ‘annunciation’, we think of the annunciation of the birth of Jesus by the angel Gabriel to Mary, which is to be found in Luke’s gospel. There is another story of the annunciation of the birth of Jesus in Matthew’s gospel. Once again, an angel of the Lord announces the birth of Jesus, but, in Matthew’s version, the announcement is made to Joseph, not to Mary. Indeed, whereas it is Mary who is prominent in the various stories relating to the birth of Jesus in Luke’s gospel, in Matthew’s gospel, it is Joseph who is the more prominent one in the stories relating to the birth of Jesus. It is just one example of how the particular perspective of each gospel complements and enriches the perspectives of the other gospels. In our gospel reading, the angel announces the birth of Jesus to Joseph after he discovers that Mary is pregnant. Joseph was betrothed to Mary but they hadn’t come to live together as husband and wife. What was Joseph to think? His solution was to divorce her quietly, being sensitive to her situation, while being realistic about what had happened. The annunciation to Joseph was with a view to enlightening him as to what had really happened, ‘she has conceived what is in her by the Holy Spirit’. Joseph was floundering until that moment. He speaks to our own experience as people of faith. We too can flounder when it comes to knowing what the best and decent thing to do is, what the Lord is asking of us. Our initial decision, well intentioned as it may be, is not always the best one. Like Joseph, we sometimes need the Lord’s guidance to take the path which is best for all. We can be sure of receiving it, if we ask for it in prayer.

And/Or

(ix) 18th December

On the 8th December, Pope Francis issued an Apostolic Letter called “With a Father’s Heart”, in which he recalls the 150th anniversary of the declaration of Saint Joseph as Patron of the Universal Church. To mark the occasion of this Apostolic Letter, Pope Francis proclaimed a “Year of Saint Joseph” from 8th December 2020, to 8 December 2021. In his Apostolic Letter, the Pope describes Saint Joseph as a beloved father, a tender and loving father, an obedient father, an accepting father; a father who is creatively courageous, a working father, a father in the shadows. He wrote the letter against the backdrop of the Covid-19 pandemic, which, he says, has helped us see more clearly the importance of “ordinary” people who, although far from the limelight, exercise patience and offer hope every day. In this, the Pope says, they resemble Saint Joseph, whom he describes as “the man who goes unnoticed, a daily, discreet and hidden presence,” and, yet, played “an incomparable role in the history of salvation.” In today’s gospel reading, Joseph consents to become the father of the child of his betrothed, Mary, a child conceived through the power of the Holy Spirit. The gospel reading suggests that, when he first heard the news of Mary’s pregnancy, he decided to divorce her informally. He didn’t understand initially what God was asking of him. When he realized that what he had planned to do was not what God was asking him to do, he submitted completely to God’s will for his life, which was to immediately take Mary home as his wife. Like Joseph, we can all struggle to know and to do what God is asking of us. We can begin to go down a path which is not God’s desire for us, just as Joseph did. However, Joseph shows us that if we keep on seeking after what God is asking of us, God will somehow reveal his will to us. Joseph had to discern over time what God was asking of him, and that can be true of us all. In our efforts to discern God’s will, God’s desire, for our lives, Saint Joseph can be a good companion, someone we can turn to in prayer, for help with our discerning.

Fr. Martin Hogan.

4 notes · View notes

erinmariemcdowell · 2 years

Text

You can have all the right doctrine and say all the right words, but if the Holy Spirit (the personal representative of God/advocate for us) isn't there you don't get any higher than the ceiling of the church. You understand?

That's the problem of some people who are very correct and particular about their doctrines, but their not friendly with the Holy Spirit. They can say all the words, but the access is only through the Holy Spirit.

When the Holy Spirit isn't given access through relationship, God is not personally, a living reality to them.

The Holy Spirit is a person. We must understand this. He is a very sensitive person. The best way to attract Him (the store keeper, the Holy Spirit) is to glorify Jesus. He has the key.

Holy Spirit has 5 assignments to the church. He's our teacher, our remembrancer, our guide, our revelator and the administrator of the wealth. He empowers the body of Christ. He impacts people and situations (riots and revivals). He rules out indifference and stirs people up. When He comes He electrifies the fence, so you must choose one side or the other. No more sitting on the fence. All neutrality is stripped away. When God sends someone with a message, He bears supernatural testimony to that message.

We are totally dependent on the Holy Spirit to get the job done. We're deceiving ourselves if we talk about the New Testament Christianity without the supernatural. We need this power of God in the area of prayer, the area of ministry proclaiming the gospel, the area of victory over sin and the area of building true Christian character.

Thank God He's available! Let's make friends with Him!

- D. P.

My darling, you are so lovely! You are beauty itself to me. Your passionate eyes are like gentle doves. Song of Songs 1:15

For you are my dove, hidden in the split-open rock. It was I who took you and hid you up high in the secret stairway of the sky. Let me see your radiant face and hear your sweet voice. How beautiful your eyes of worship and lovely your voice in prayer.

Song of Songs 2:14

Listen, my dearest darling, you are so beautiful—you are beauty itself to me! Your eyes are like gentle doves behind your veil. What devotion I see each time I gaze upon you. You are like a sacrifice ready to be offered.

Song of Songs 4:1

But the Comforter, which is the Holy Ghost, whom the Father will send in my name, he shall teach you all things, and bring all things to your remembrance, whatsoever I have said unto you. Peace I leave with you, my peace I give unto you: not as the world giveth, give I unto you. Let not your heart be troubled, neither let it be afraid.

John 14:26‭-‬27

“I’ve told you these things to prepare you for rough times ahead. They are going to throw you out of the meeting places. There will even come a time when anyone who kills you will think he’s doing God a favor. They will do these things because they never really understood the Father. I’ve told you these things so that when the time comes and they start in on you, you’ll be well-warned and ready for them. “I didn’t tell you this earlier because I was with you every day. But now I am on my way to the One who sent me. Not one of you has asked, ‘Where are you going?’ Instead, the longer I’ve talked, the sadder you’ve become. So let me say it again, this truth: It’s better for you that I leave. If I don’t leave, the Friend won’t come. But if I go, I’ll send him to you. “When he comes, he’ll expose the error of the godless world’s view of sin, righteousness, and judgment: He’ll show them that their refusal to believe in me is their basic sin; that righteousness comes from above, where I am with the Father, out of their sight and control; that judgment takes place as the ruler of this godless world is brought to trial and convicted. “I still have many things to tell you, but you can’t handle them now. But when the Friend comes, the Spirit of the Truth, he will take you by the hand and guide you into all the truth there is. He won’t draw attention to himself, but will make sense out of what is about to happen and, indeed, out of all that I have done and said. He will honor me; he will take from me and deliver it to you. Everything the Father has is also mine. That is why I’ve said, ‘He takes from me and delivers to you.’

John 16:4‭-‬15

We were buried therefore with him by baptism into death, in order that, just as Christ was raised from the dead by the glory of the Father, we too might walk in newness of life.

Romans 6:4

How shall we escape if we neglect such a great salvation? It was declared at first by the Lord, and it was attested to us by those who heard, while God also bore witness by signs and wonders and various miracles and by gifts of the Holy Spirit distributed according to his will.

Hebrews 2:3‭-‬4

8 notes · View notes

timhatchlive · 2 years

Text

What Keeps Me From My Own Recklessness

There's a problem in your life for sure. That problem is you.

Hard to hear in our seeking-to-feel-good culture, but healing.

Proverbs 29:1 (ESV) He who is often reproved, yet stiffens his neck, will suddenly be broken beyond healing.

Wise living comes from more than just hearing it. You have to receive it. And sometimes we don't receive wisdom because we don't have the ability or willingness to let ourselves be challenged in what we assume is right.

This is the person described in Proverbs 29:1 along with other passages from the chapter. The image of a person not willing to receive correction. This is the person who is so utterly convinced they are right there is no changing them. And this person is their own worst enemy. Because disaster comes eventually and if we don't turn and change, it will come for us.

There are three proverbs that describe the person who cannot receive instruction in the chapter:

Proverbs 29:9 (ESV) If a wise man has an argument with a fool, the fool only rages and laughs, and there is no quiet.

The idea here is there is some kind of conflict and you can find the fool in the brash volume of his responses.

Proverbs 29:11 (ESV) A fool gives full vent to his spirit, but a wise man quietly holds it back.

Verse 11 of the chapter illustrates the unteachable man. His spirit is certain and his life is unrestrained as a result.

Proverbs 29:20 (ESV) Do you see a man who is hasty in his words? There is more hope for a fool than for him.

Not only is the fool loud, but he is also quick to speak.

The only answer to such a dangerous life is to receive the Word of God.

Proverbs 29:18 (ESV) Where there is no prophetic vision the people cast off restraint, but blessed is he who keeps the law.

The prophetic vision that God offers is the divine guidance of His Word. So many Pastors preach this one proverb to support their own ambitions for church growth. This is not what the proverbs speaks of. Consider the New Living Translation of this verse:

Proverbs 29:18 (NLT) When people do not accept divine guidance, they run wild. But whoever obeys the law is joyful.

The prophetic vision is God's wisdom revealed in the pages of scripture. When we lack this in our lives, it allows our flesh to lead us into reckless ruin.

In the end, then, the Word of God is that sword that can pierce even the foolish and rebellious heart. So some practical advice before you let your own spirit destroy you.

Even when you don't feel like it, get into God's Word.

Even when you don't live it, get into God's Word.

Even when you fail, get into God's Word.

It's the corrective, healing agent that can undo the recklessness inside of you, the foolishness inherent in you, and the sin that so easily entangles you.

Hebrews 4:12–13 (ESV) For the word of God is living and active, sharper than any two-edged sword, piercing to the division of soul and of spirit, of joints and of marrow, and discerning the thoughts and intentions of the heart. 13 And no creature is hidden from his sight, but all are naked and exposed to the eyes of him to whom we must give account.

from Blogger https://ift.tt/HJQsaUk via IFTTT

#belief #Bible #Christianity #faith #God #healing #holy spirit #Jesus Christ #Proverbs #Truth #wisdom

2 notes · View notes

the-hem · 6 months

Text

2 Samuel 21: 1-7. "Shabbar: The Oath Between David and Jonathan."

Continuing in the retelling of the annals of the People of the Kingdom of Israel and the National Spirit, King David.

The Gibeonites Avenged

Gibeonites are from the "hill country" the rocky terrain one must unfortuantely abjure on the way to the Heights. They are a subspecies of human being known as an Amorite, "the talkers".

Talkers love chatting and gabbing, bitching, complaining, lying, all the sins of speech an Amorite will gladly indulge in, no matter the level of menace and strife it causes. As we learned in previous sections of 2 Samuel God thinks talkers take the voices away from others and He is correct.

TALKERS cause famines of the truth; Gibeonites cause clutter; they are not quite as bad but they are indeed problematic to the cause of ordinary sighted persons that just want to look straight ahead and see and hear the truth exactly the way it is.

The story of David vs. the Gibeonites begins with a famine of consciousness of the truth, which as we know from the Bush years means somethin' dirty is goin' on and it taint because of gay marriage:

21 During the reign of David, there was a famine for three successive years; so David sought the face of the Lord. The Lord said, “It is on account of Saul and his blood-stained house; it is because he put the Gibeonites to death.”

Three Years are different from ordinary years on the calendar. Let's look at how the Numbers change from Year One to Year Three:

Year one of a famine has a Value of 1025, יב‎ה, yves, which means ewes or Jews.

Year two of a famine has a Value of 932, tagab, "the highest most exalted crown."

Year three of a famine has a Value of 941, tada, "Comprehension of the Tide"

"The name Tidal appears to have very little meaning in Hebrew, or at least as can be deducted from the Hebrew of the Bible (which of course is a mere section of the Hebrew that actually existed); the root דעל (d'l) does not exist and although על ('al) means 'up' (see the names Eli and Elyon), there is no word תד (td), תדה (tdh) or even תוד (twd)."

Saul's massacre of the Hill Country People left low residual consciousness of the Crown regarding the Great Flood. Saul means "to entreat God"; so why didn't Saul conform to his namesake and act Godly towards the stumbling blocks in his way?

Verse 1 overall has a Value of 9358, טגהח‎‎, tahhah, "to support housing." The House of Saul did not successfully integrate persons of various capabilities through solidarity, it alienated them making it impossible for a House of Houses to exist, which is the most important job the King of Israel must undertake.

This leaves King David holding the bag:

2 The king summoned the Gibeonites and spoke to them. (Now the Gibeonites were not a part of Israel but were survivors of the Amorites; the Israelites had sworn to spare them, but Saul in his zeal for Israel and Judah had tried to annihilate them.)

3 David asked the Gibeonites, “What shall I do for you? How shall I make atonement so that you will bless the Lord’s inheritance?”

4 The Gibeonites answered him, “We have no right to demand silver or gold from Saul or his family, nor do we have the right to put anyone in Israel to death.”

“What do you want me to do for you?” David asked.

5 They answered the king, “As for the man who destroyed us and plotted against us so that we have been decimated and have no place anywhere in Israel,

6 let seven of his male descendants be given to us to be killed and their bodies exposed before the Lord at Gibeah of Saul—the Lord’s chosen one.”

So the king said, “I will give them to you.”

Gibeah exposes a wicked man's guilt and allows an Israelite to grow in his place:

The verb גבב (gabab) doesn't occur in the Bible but it appears to have meant to be concave or convex; to be bulbous or hollow. Noun גב (gab) denotes anything that is bulbous (hills, buttocks).

The verb גוב (gub) means to dig. Noun גב (geb) means pit or ditch. This verb appears to be associated with the verb יגב (yagab), meaning to till (what a farmer does). Noun יגב (yaqeb) probably refers to the field where the farmer tills.

Noun גבא (gebe') appears to describe a hollow in which water collects and is commonly translated with cistern, pool or marsh.

David assents to giving Gibeah, exposure by tilling the soil of society, a try.

7 The king spared Mephibosheth son of Jonathan, the son of Saul, because of the oath before the Lord between David and Jonathan son of Saul.

Anything that takes place in Sevens refers to the Seven Days, during which the Seven Noachide Laws are to be practiced, along with the Seven Sacrifces and the Seven Festivals.

Here we see the gay way to restore the house by recognizing the only way the Days and their Houses, the various classes of male intentions can be brought together and it is not through bloodshed, which means without a war, without a victim or a victor in any sense of the words.

Sacrifices and oaths and promises go hand in hand. When one is exposed, or confesses things are not exactly going so very well, one is automatically making an oath to attain to Shabbat.

Normally speak of Shabbat as the union of male and female, work and effort with their results, intention and pattern, but in this case it is Shabbar, "the unity of plenty with emptiness."

The root שבע (sb'; now spelled as שׂבע (sb') and pronounced with an s) means to be sated or satisfied with food. It's used literally for people who have (or don't have) enough to eat (Hosea 4:10) or drink (Amos 4:8), but also for the earth sated with rain (Proverbs 30:16), a sword drinking its fill with blood (Jeremiah 46:10).

Our verb is also used for fillers other than food: Harlotry (Ezekiel 16:28), plunder (Jeremiah 50:10), an observation (Isaiah 53:10), the goodness of God's house (Psalm 65:4), sons (Psalm 17:14). And also it may denote an excess: of honey (Proverbs 25:16), tossing (Job 7:4), poverty (Proverbs 28:19), shame (Habakkuk 2:16), and the list goes on.

Bar=

"The verb ברא (bara' I) is probably one of the most curious and hard to understand verbs in the Hebrew Bible as it denotes the creative activity of God (Genesis 1:1, Isaiah 42:5, Jeremiah 31:22). In contrast to verbs like יצר (yasar), meaning to fashion or form (something out of something else), or עשה ('asa), which means to make (again something from existing elements), the verb ברא (bara') denotes creation ex nihilo.

Such creation is very difficult to imagine but perhaps a well or a spring that produces water from nowhere was an apt metaphor to any Hebrew audience. The verb ברא (bara') may not be etymologically related to the verb באר (ba'ar), - meaning to declare or write, with derivations that have to do with wells and springs — but on a poetic pallet, these verbs certainly represent closely kindred colors."

As with all things Judaism, there are ways to bring plenty to the table, there are ways to make things scarce. The Gibeonites want to remove the barriers between them and the good things in life and King David, recalling that sweet, sweet can, agrees to proceed with the Seven Sacrifices for which he is being asked.

He spares Jonathan's son, Mephibosheth, which means "the end of all shame" but allows the rest to be "exposed" at Gibeah of Saul, the "Hill of Entreaty" where the Ark of the Covnenant is kept.

The Value is 8660, חו‎ואֶפֶס‎ ‎, huafes, "He who faces God." To turn the skull and the face towards the world around it and engage on Godly terms- to feed it, to gather the manna to oneself: 'The Value is 8660, חו‎ואֶפֶס‎ ‎, huafes, "He who faces God." To turn the skull and the face towards the world around it and engage on Godly terms- to feed it, to gather the manna to oneself:

"To us the image of a skull represents death or danger, but that symbolism is not Biblical. In Biblical times, the head was also not regarded as the seat of the mind or the intellect, but rather as the most public part of the body, comparable with the door of a house or city.

The head was seen as the seat of individual personality, or rather a person's public profile. It was the part of a person with which that person engaged others and the world around him. One consumed food via the head, listened to others, spoke to others and viewed others, but the head was not seen as a repository or reservoir of anything.

Our word occurs a mere 13 times in the Bible, half of which in the context of literally a head- (skull-) count (Exodus 38:26, Numbers 1:2, 1 Chronicles 23:13). In Exodus 16:16, the Israelites are commanded to gather one omer of manna per "skull" (something similar occurs in Exodus 38:26 and Numbers 3:47)."

The correct interpretation of this section explains how the union of David and Jonathan, "beauty and talent", history's most important and well known gay marriage is also an algorithm for filling the world with conversation and the subsequent ideologies that alleviate suffering and isolation and bring men of different beliefs and gifts under one roof where their chances of achieving Mashiach are much greater than if they were scattered and trying to do so on their own.

1 note · View note

princeofgod-2021 · 2 years

Text

LIGHT OF LIFE 229

John 1:4

SATAN’S STRUCTURE 36: REVERSE FASHION 7

Rev 16:15 "Listen! I am coming like a thief! HAPPY IS HE WHO STAYS AWAKE AND GUARDS HIS CLOTHES, SO THAT HE WILL NOT WALK AROUND NAKED AND BE ASHAMED IN PUBLIC!" GNB

As we have seen, progressively, that some of the repercussions for the sins that Satan tempts men to commit are either manifest in literal (physical) terms or spiritual form. We need to inspect this.

God could strip a man physically naked, meaning he has gone stark raving mad, or he could be made spiritually naked, meaning exposure and vulnerability to satanic attacks, causing shame.

2Ch 26:19-21 Uzziah, who had an incense censer in his hand, became angry. While he was ranting and raving at the priests, a skin disease appeared on his forehead right there in front of the priests in the LORD’s temple near the incense altar. When Azariah the high priest and the other priests looked at him, there was a skin disease on his forehead. THEY HURRIED HIM OUT OF THERE; EVEN THE KING HIMSELF WANTED TO LEAVE QUICKLY BECAUSE THE LORD HAD AFFLICTED HIM. King Uzziah suffered from a skin disease until the day he died. HE LIVED IN SEPARATE QUARTERS, afflicted by a skin disease and BANNED FROM THE LORD’S TEMPLE. His son Jotham was in charge of the palace and ruled over the people of the land. NET

Thank God that the King himself wanted to leave quickly, because mere leprosy could culminate in death and he knew it.

At least he realized he had messed up; Herod wasn’t as lucky (Acts 12:23).

When you are naked, you hide in your room. That means there is yet a level of sanity and the “sentence” is mild.

Leprosy is like nakedness because carriers always live in hiding. Got it?

Exo 20:26 You shall not go up by steps to my altar, THAT YOUR NAKEDNESS MAY NOT BE EXPOSED TO IT.’ WEB

God will not allow nakedness to be seen in His house, much less on His Altar.

Therefore, if you have to drive a man out and BAN him from God’s house, and keep him separate from all, then he is naked.

Beloved, if any challenge makes you so ashamed or feel strongly withdrawn from God’s presence, please check yourself and correct things with God.

There could have been a display of PRIDE.

Ish 47:2-3 Take heavy millstones and grind flour. Remove your veil and STRIP OFF YOUR ROBE. EXPOSE YOURSELF TO PUBLIC VIEW. YOU WILL BE NAKED AND BURDENED WITH SHAME. I will vengeance against you without pity. NLT

We are going to close on Fashion topics today, but before then, let’s consider something important:

How come Satan tempted Man to realize his nakedness and start wearing clothes, yet he goes on to make them take off their clothes and go naked without care for criticism?

It’s confusing, isn’t it?

Gen 3:10 The man replied, “I heard you moving about in the orchard, AND I WAS AFRAID BECAUSE I WAS NAKED, SO I HID.” NET

You must understand that making Man eat the Fruit, was to create an offense between Man and God, but making them go crazy and shamelessly go naked again is to foster sin amongst themselves.

We must know Satan for his cunning and mode of operations: he is on the Dark side dominating evil, but he is also on the Lighted side trying hard to infiltrate, corrupt, pollute and abuse.

Mat 13:27-29 The servants came and asked, "Sir, didn't you scatter good seed in your field? WHERE DID THESE WEEDS COME FROM?" "AN ENEMY DID THIS," he replied. His servants then asked, "Do you want us to go out and pull up the weeds?" "No!" he answered. "YOU MIGHT ALSO PULL UP THE WHEAT. CEV

What causes controversies in Church?

Satan imposes confusion amongst us by appearing of “both sides of the coin”.

You must give to Caesar but he also tries to corrupt what you give God.

Jud 1:12 THESE PEOPLE ARE A DISGRACE AT THE SPECIAL MEALS YOU SHARE WITH OTHER BELIEVERS. THEY EAT WITH YOU AND DON'T FEEL ASHAMED. They are shepherds who care only for themselves. They are dry clouds blown around by the winds. They are withered, uprooted trees without any fruit. As a result, they have died twice. GW

It’s interesting when you see Satan using Peter to vehemently declare that Jesus must not die (Mat 16:22-23), yet he was the one who finally had Jesus killed on the cross, with shame and mockery.

You know, Peter could have wondered why Jesus called him Satan, when he supposed he was only showing true love and care for his “beloved master”.

That is how subtle Satan can be beloved.

2Co 11:13-14 For they are not true apostles but deceitful ministers who masquerade as “special apostles” of the Anointed One. THAT DOESN’T SURPRISE US, FOR EVEN SATAN TRANSFORMS HIMSELF TO APPEAR AS AN ANGEL OF LIGHT! TPT

Many of us want life to be so simple, and thus don’t like seeing the devil in many things we enjoy.

That’s why there’s endless arguments over dressing, head covering and many issues in the Faith.

We are unable to see the hand of the devil “hidden” behind many actions and decisions in life, otherwise, we pretend not to see it because it is not clearly spelt out as sin.

Be very careful.

Rom 14:16 Do not let what you regard as good get a bad name. GNB

That why Jesus said in Mat 18:29: “don’t remove the tares, lest you remove the wheat too”.

That’s why we shouldn’t dwell on controversies but keep with the weightier matters of the Gospel of life.

Meanwhile, everything in life really has its “dark side” and we must be vigilant to “read” them boldly.

Don’t lose your life over that issue, which you violently defend and presume doesn’t matter.

May our lives never be “Fashioned” in ungodliness, in Jesus name, Amen.

Come back on Monday for more digging into this intriguing subtopic.

Keep Shinning!

Brother Prince

Friday, July 29, 2022

08055125517; 08023904307

0 notes

allmightluver · 4 years

Text

All Might’s Mental Health is Declining

Toshinori Yagi wanted to be a hero, wanted to help people ever since he was a boy

and with Nana’s help, the quirkless kid got his wish.

But being a hero isn’t for the weak of heart. You’re going to fail. People are going to be hurt. And ultimately, you’ll be alone. Toshinori had to learn this quickly in his life as Nana, his mother figure, died for him at an early age.

The other person in his life, Gran Torino, trained him to the best of his abilities, but was a no nonsense, brutal teacher.

His methods were effective, but scarring, as Toshinori has been terrified of him ever sense.

He was sent to America on his own to develop his quirk, where he eventually learned to become a hero. But again, that meant work was his life, and he had no social life. Sure he was popular with the media, but as far as developing a lot of personal relationships, he wouldn’t have time for them. Plus, as typical of a hero, in order to keep everyone safe, All Might couldn’t be seen with people he was close to. He most likely kept himself busy the majority of the time to keep from being lost in his own thoughts. People need companions, it’s part of our make up. Toshinori’s surely had to have been a very lonely life.

And then All for One happened. And defeating him almost killed Toshinori, in fact, there’s no good reason he’s still alive, other than to pass on One For All, he should be dead. *Warning graphic details following*

All for One said himself (English Translation), “A wounded hero is a most frightening animal. Do you know that even now, I sometimes dream of you charging at me with your entrails strewn across the ground.” His entrails. His internal organs. All Might was gravely wounded, yet he still forced himself to fight All For One, even while the hole in his side freely leaked his own body’s contents. In the picture above, All Might kneels above All For One’s lifeless body in a pool of blood, a mixture of both their blood. AFO’s head crushed.

I cannot stress enough the mental impact of this singular event. All Might stood for absolutely NO killing. He would resolve conflict while being careful NOT to kill or even critically hurt anyone. But in this instance, Toshinori killed a man. And the way he did, crushing a man’s head with his bare hands until the skull gave way and his brains were scattered on the pavement below. For someone who believes in no killing, this was a brutal execution. One that, unfortunately, had to happen for the safety of the world, and only All Might was capable of doing it.

This alone must have severely messed with his head. While he lay in hospital, only capable of healing, AFO haunted his dreams and thoughts. He took another life, blood permanently staining his hands. And now he has to mentally pretend this never happened and act as if everything is fine to the public who hadn’t heard of this fight.

Despite the mental trauma from this, the physical trauma was worse. While he could fake the emotional lasting effects, he couldn’t hide the physical.

This injury took a lot more of him than just his mental stability. It took his stomach, a lung, most likely his spleen, and perhaps more internal organs. Living like this now means lots of medications. Supplements to make up for the lack of stomach, drugs to protect against infection, and pain medication to list a few. Something that big has to hurt like crazy. And all that scar tissue pulling while you try to fight? Torture. He’s most likely had countless corrective surgeries from the scar tissue alone, which only reopens the wound and leaves less and less skin to work with. You can see how caved in the scar is, indicating just how much of his body is missing. His destroyed respiratory system forces blood to fill the remaining lung he has left when he overexerts himself, which is all the time. He probably has to have blood tranfusions regularly to make up for the loss, as well as other injections to assist his body in running properly. There’s probably an oxygen tank by his bedside to help when he’s choking on his own blood in the middle of the night. His body wasting away until his very skin stretches like plastic wrap over nothing but bones. Muscles being eaten away in replacement of food.

But what sucks the most? The time he can be All Might is decreasing more every day. The one thing he’s wanted his whole life, to help people, is starting to become difficult to do. He has to hide his true form from the public, he doesn’t want them to fear for their lives if he can’t help anymore. Now he spends more and more time in his own mind because he can’t distract himself anymore. And what’s worse than the mental pain is the physical accompanying it.

Now BESIDES all this happening, we also have Nighteye’s betrayal. Sir, the man who was his sidekick for years, the guy he’s probably been able to grow the closest to, betrays All Might’s trust and looks into his future. And what does he see?

In six to seven years, Toshinori will meet a villain, and meet a gruesome demise. The betrayal makes him and Nighteye go separate ways, losing a friend.

Now with his declining health and the death sentence hanging over his head, Toshinori has to think about what he hoped he wouldn’t for years yet. He needs a successor. Someone to give this power to before it’s too late.

Insert Izuku.

A young, quirkless boy who just wants to help people. Sounds familiar. Izuku is an obvious choice despite everyone telling Toshinori he’s not the right fit. (Like Nighteye whom Toshinori tried to tell, but was only shot down.) So once he hands over One for All to Izuku, the problem, despite the boy destroying himself as he tries to use it and Toshinori being unsure how to help him, is that his power is decreasing even faster now. Which, of course, is to be expected, but that doesn’t mean it’s easy to deal with. His time limit is drawn shorter and shorter until All for One starts to make a reappearance.

So not only did Toshinori not kill him, all the trauma he went through was for nothing, but now the world is in danger, again. And he doesn’t know if he can help them. Which means he has to involve his young ward in this mess that killed his mentor, almost killed him, and could potentially kill the boy as well.

So he tells Izuku of the origin of One for All and All for One. But he doesn’t tell the boy that by the time Izuku fights this guy, Toshinori won’t be around anymore.

He doesn’t let on how much the power is draining out of his body, and doesn’t enlighten the boy on his own upcoming death. Which unfortunately means he has to lie and give Izuku a false sense of security.

And then, All for One shows up.

And this time, All Might’s true form is exposed to the public. His weakness. Now the world knows that All Might isn’t invincible. Despite this, he’s still able to force his broken and exhausted body to beat All for One again, while using up the last of One for All, and leaving it up to Izuku.

Now he’s that quirkless boy who wants to help people again, only this time, he can’t.

Now he can’t be a hero, the one thing that’s kept him going all these years. And people on the street who don’t recognize him right away, criticize how he looks, which again, is out of his control. So he continues to hide himself in shame.

Gran Torino has told him he’s not being a proper mentor to Izuku, but the boy is already surpassing him with his schooling from other teachers. So, without heroing and mentoring, all Toshinori has left is being a teacher.

And unfortunately, Eraserhead has told him he’s also mediocre at that as well.

Then Izuku meets Sir Nighteye, and questions Toshinori about their relationship, while also questioning his own successor-ship.

Which leads to a very emotional scene of Toshinori telling Izuku exactly what happened all those years ago, as well as his death sentence that, oh by the way, is coming either this year or the next.

Toshinori is fairly emotionless while explaining this to the boy, I imagine he’s fairly disconnected with his own emotions by this point.

But seeing how upset Izuku was is enough to make him try and console the other that he won’t simply roll over and die, that he’ll go down fighting.

And THEN, he gets word that Sir Nighteye is in grave condition and most likely won’t make it through the night. Even after their falling out, Toshinori goes to his friend’s side, and the resemblance is scary.

Now he can see why Nighteye looked into his future, to see if Toshi had any chance on living. Being put in this position, he can understand. You can even hear Toshinori’s voice break (Japanese version) when he tells Sir that he needs to stay alive to allow Toshi to repent for his sins. But Nighteye can’t stay. And when facing the man who’s always been known for his smile, who can’t do it anymore, Sir says to him: “Smile. Live on, Toshinori.”

But for what?

The most recent episodes have a relatively emotionless Toshinori.

Like in today’s episode, the best he can give Izuku is a small smile, barely anything. He doesn’t even emote when he catches Hatsume’s stray baby.

He clearly still has the reflexes of a hero, but he can’t physically be one anymore. His health is too fragile. *Manga spoilers ahead*

Then there’s this scene with Aizawa.

He had long since accepted his own death, maybe even longed for it. But Izuku made him decide to try and live, even though he’s not sure how to anymore.

This poor man has been through Hell. And now he feels useless and helpless. Thank God he finally said something to Aizawa, but he needs more than just this, he needs to have a purpose again. I hope Aizawa and the others can help him find it again.

#toshinori yagi #all might #my hero academia #mha #manga spoilers #gore #depression #toshinori yagi has depression #mental illness #boku no hero academia #bnha #Yagi Toshinori #meta

5K notes · View notes

drivingsideways · 3 years

Note

Seo-ryeong and Tae-eul, allies

She sees her shoes before she sees the rest of her.

Correction: she sees her feet, before she sees the rest of her- the tension of the high arch radiating up to the calves revealed by the thigh high slit of her indigo skirt, as she climbs the stairs ahead of Tae-eul. It's a quick, confident gait: the stilettoes not wavering a centimeter. Tae-eul, slowing down, feels her back tense in sympathetic reaction.

She pauses at the door, hand raised to knock, when she realizes that she's not alone, and turns.

Tae-eul has already realized who it is, so she's able reply with composure.

"Madam Prime Minister, what a surprise."

The stairs give Koo Seo-Ryeong even more of an advantage; she looms, larger than life, than reality itself on Tae-eul's doorstep, her expression guarded.

"Detective Jeong," says Koo Seo-Ryeong coolly. "I'm glad to find you at home."

A pause, an upward curl of lip.

"Your real home."

"I'm sorry it's not fit to greet Your Excellency," Tae-eul says, mildly, as she reaches the landing. Koo Seo Ryeong doesn't step back, so she has to awkwardly move in the small space between the door and the giraffe behind her to unlock her door. Perhaps it was something in the water in Corea, she reflects, but they really did seem to produce people who couldn't resist being unnecessarily dramatic.

Koo Seo-Ryeong waits until the lights are switched on before she ducks her head to step over the threshold. She looks around, taking everything in- there's not much, Tae-eul admits, but it still feels like exposing her underbelly to a predator. But Jeong Tae-eul isn't a fool; she knows which battles to pick.

As does Prime Minister Koo, she thinks, watching her face as her gaze lights on the wall with the photographs. Without a word, she makes her way to it; saunters, really, like a giant, sleek cat strolling the savannah. The tension from the stairs is gone, replaced by indolence; which one is the act, Jeong Tae-eul wouldn't place bets on.

"Would you like something to drink?" Tae-eul says, after a minute.

"Hmm?"

Koo Seo-Ryeong tilts her head, showing off her lovely profile, her porcelain-cheek finely contoured, the elegant line of her neck. Her hair is coiled in a loose bun settled at her nape, a delicate white- jade hairpin holding it in place. She looks like the queen she intends to be.

"No."

"Suit yourself," Tae-eul says, shrugging, as she walks to the counter and turns the coffee maker on. "Personally, I find that caffeine helps speed up my brain."

Koo Seo-Ryeong turns toward her then, a half-smile playing on her cherry red lips.

"What's the hurry," she drawls. "Do you have somewhere to be?"

A pause, then a long, fair hand lifted to cover her mouth, showing off perfectly manicured nails in that same blood-red as her shoes. "Oh, that's right, you must be waiting for His Majesty."

Oh for the love of—

"What do you need my help for?"

"Did I say that I needed your help?"

Tae-eul rolls her eyes, as the coffee-maker hisses behind her.

"Your Excellency," she says, trying to use her best traffic-cop-explaining-rules-to-eighty year old ahjumma-in-a sedan-voice, "I can't imagine anything less than an emergency has brought you to my door. So, let's get to it."

"Where's your mother?" Koo Seo-Ryeong asks.

Tae-eul blinks at her.

"Dead," she says, after a minute. "I was five, it was cancer, there was nothing we could do."

She thinks rapidly, trying to remember the factoids of Koo Seo-ryeong's life that she'd devoured during her brief time in Corea.

"Where's yours?" she asks, but she thinks she knows the answer.

"Lee Lim's got her," says Koo Seo-Ryeong, casually, as though reporting the weather, "Somewhere here, in this world."

"Are you sure?" Tae-eul asks, after a moment. "It's my understanding that he usually—that he doesn't leave any loose ends," she amends, at the last minute, because there's something in the rigid nonchalance of Koo Seo-Ryeong's face that tells her she's not ready to hear the words "dead" and "your mother" in the same sentence.

"Somewhere in this world," Koo Seo-Ryeong repeats, "I'm sure."

"And you want me to help you find her," Tae-eul prods.

Seo-Ryeong shrugs. "You're a detective aren't you- and you and that little hound dog that follows you around- you've been investigating Lee Lim for a while now, so—"

Tae-eul sends up a prayer of thanks that hyungnim isn't around to hear this.

"Why should I, though?" Tae-eul asks.

It's not that she hasn't already made up her mind- taking down the bad guy is the job description, hello, and that's the golden rule even if the person who benefits from the work is a snake—but Koo Seo-Ryeong is a mystery she'd never thought she'd get a chance to solve, and here she was, delivered to her doorstep.

Plus, this was work.

Koo Seo-Ryeong looks bored.

"Do I have to explain the advantages of taking down a common enemy? Are you really the child you look like?"

Tae-eul takes a sip of coffee to hide her grin- but not fast enough, because Koo Seo-Ryeong's expression changes into a storm cloud.

"I see," she says.

Then the expression smoothens out, like a magic wand has been waved.

It was fascinating.

Tae-eul wonders if she'd ever thought of a career as an actor, and then reflects that Koo Seo-Ryeong's makjang style was probably more suited to her current career.

"If those are the games you like," the Prime Minister of Corea is drawling, "I can guarantee that His Majesty is going to bore you to death in two weeks."

"I'll take my chances," says Tae-eul placidly, hopping onto the kitchen counter, and swinging her legs. "Alright, eonni- I can call you that, right? Since we'll be working together and all? Tell me everything you know."

"You may not call me eonni," says Her Excellency, from her throne at the center of Master Jeong's 2 x 4, "And I will tell you what you need to know."

"See," says Tae-eul, slurping her coffee loudly and enjoying the barely hidden wince from the woman opposite her, "That kind of thing isn't going to work. All or nothing, Your Excellency."

"The things that you don't know, and I do, could fill the library of Sungkyunkwan," declares Koo Seo-Ryeong.

A pause.

"I will answer any questions pertinent to the situation."

"Cool, cool," says Tae-eul, "I can live with that. What's your favourite dish, Your Excellency?"

A glare.

"Why is that relevant?"

"It’s relevant to our dinner plans. I can't think when I'm hungry."

A (glorious) sneer.

"Pathetic," says the woman who possibly secretly smoked two packs a day to remain that svelte and run a country.

Tae-eul shrugs, pulling her phone out. "Alright, fried beef dumplings it is, then. I take it you won't mind it spicy?"

They're poring over the files that Koo Seo-Ryeong had brought- intelligence reports, and her own notes from her meetings with Lee Lim, comparing them with the information that Tae-eul has so far on her side, when the doorbell rings.

"Oh yum, food," says Tae-eul springing up and scooting to the door.

It's Jo Yeong, looking like Doom, as usual.

"Oh, not food," she says, disappointed, and steps aside to let him make his dramatic entrance.

Seriously, Coreans.

But hyungnim's right behind him- or would be, if he wasn't leaning against the railing with a put-upon look on his face.

Behind her, she can hear the exchange of artillery fire as Captain Jo Yeong meets the bane of his life in Master Jeong's living room.

She closes the door behind her.

"So, what, you and that crazy woman are allies now?" Kang Sin-jae asks, as he thrusts a bag at her, from which the delicious smell of fried dumplings wafts up.

"Nope," she says, rooting around in the brown paper bag, because she knows a fried food aficionado when she sees one, and if she doesn't get to her share now, it was unlikely that Koo Seo-Ryeong would be considerate enough to leave her any. Besides, for a woman like Koo Seo-Ryeong, ally would rank higher that blood-brother or soulmate for other mortals, and Tae-eul hadn't earned it. Not yet. There was time, she thinks, for that.

"Nah," she says, again, over half a mouthful of crunchy goodness. "just two people working together. Shall we go in before there are bodies to bury?"

"What, again?" mutters hyungnim, but he opens the door for her, and follows her in.

#*offers this up to senpai *#*scurries away *#tkem #the king eternal monarch

28 notes · View notes

dialovers-translations · 3 years

Text

DIABOLIK LOVERS MORE, MORE BLOOD Vol.12 Mukami Ruki [Track 5 + Epilogue]

Original title: 暴かれた罪 & エピローグ

Source: Diabolik Lovers More, More Blood Vol. 12 Mukami Ruki [CD not owned by me]

Audio: Here & here

Seiyuu: Takahiro Sakurai

Translator’s note: God this CD was so mentally draining. > < This final track in particular, Ruki is just so...evil. I feel like this has surpassed the level of ‘sadism’ and he really just wants to make the MC’s life a living hell. :’’) He even literally says it a few times. I honestly can’t help but feel like this Ruki was kind of OOC and I know at least one Ruki stan who would agree with me. xD

Track 1 ll Track 2 ll Track 3 ll Track 4 ll Track 5 + Epilogue

→ LIKE MY TRANSLATIONS? SUPPORT ME ON KO-FI!

Track 5: Exposed Sin

*Ding dong・ Ding dong*

You rush towards the library.

*Rattle*

“...You’re late! How long did you intend to keep me waiting?”

You apologize.

“Oh well. I shall give you credit for coming here running at least. Hurry up and get inside.”

You enter the room.

“You seem cautious. Shouldn’t it be obvious why I called you to the library? I helped you look for resources the other day, and today I’ll have you return the favor. Search for the book with this title.”

Ruki hands you a piece of paper.

*Flip*

“Someone borrowed it for an extended period of time. I heard it had been returned to the library but I can’t find it anywhere. Even the librarian was left puzzled. You shall help me find it as well. Please look through the book shelves in this row. I’ll be looking over on this side.”

You nod.

“A clever response. Bring it to me as soon as you find it. It is a very valuable book. Do not damage it by mistake.”

You start looking around for the book.

*Rustle rustle*

“I heard there’s a seal imprinted on the spine of the book, so you should be able to tell which one is the right one as soon as you spot it. “

*Rustle*

You find the book.

“You’ve already found it? I’m impressed. Treat it with care. I won’t go easy on you if you were to fold one of the pages.”

You grab hold of the book, accidentally dropping all the pages.

“Oi...!? What are you doing...!?”

Ruki stomps over to you.

“The pages are all over the place...What did you do to it!?”

You try and explain.

“Are you trying to make up excuses? Seems like you don’t feel any guilt towards the blunder you just committed. In that case, it cannot be helped. I shall teach it to your body directly.”

You pull out the hourglass.

*Cling*

*Tick tock - Tick tock - Tick tock - Tick tock*

ーーー

...

“I heard there’s a seal imprinted on the spine of the book, so you should be able to tell which one is the right one as soon as you spot it. “

You sigh in relief.

“What’s wrong? Why do you seem so relieved? I don’t remember giving you permission to take a break? ...Huh?”

Ruki walks over to you.

“It’s right in front of you. This is the one. The book I’ve been looking for.”

You try and stop him.

“What’s wrong? Should I not grab it?”

You explain.

“What are you saying? You claim that the pages have become loose and will fall out? That is ridiculous.”

He takes the book off the shelf.

“Just as I thought, they had it amongst their collection. It has been preserved in great condition as well.”

*Flip*

Your eyes widen in surprise.

“What’s wrong? It looks as if your eyes are going to pop out. ...You said the pages would fall out, no? As you can see, as long as you flip them carefully, there’s no risks involved at all.”

*Flip*

“After all...I’m the one who set this all up.

Your heart stops for a second.

“I put an aged book here on purpose; I should be the only one aware though.”

He walks towards you.

“Of the fact that the book’s binder has broken, so the pages will come falling out. ...So how did you know?”

You flinch.

“The reason is easy. You have used the hourglass once already, haven’t you? That is how you rewinded time, and erased your mistake. Judging by your reaction, this has not been the first time you did so either. These past few days, you have been looping time over and over, haven’t you? I thought something was off, but I finally figured you out. ...I assume you did something which upset me? What exactly did you do?”

You hurriedly pull out the hourglass.

*Rustle rustle*

“You really believe I’d let you use it? I will take this back.”

*Cling*

“Such beautiful red sand. Its decorations truly are sublime as well. However, the magic energy has decreased quite a bit. ...How many times did you rewind? How many times were you punished by me, but rendered it void?”

You remain quiet.

“I can make an estimate even if you don’t give me an answer. Enough times for the magic to be this drained at least. It seems like you need to be punished.”

You try and defend yourself.

“Aah. I did say that, did I not? That I was curious how you would use it. However, using it to cover up your own mistakes is simply inexcusable. You concealed your own mishaps, deceiving those around you...As someone who once read the Bible, I am sure you know just how severe of a sin that is. You must atone for your sins. In that case, I shall lend you a helping hand. ...You were aware, weren’t you? Every time you turned back time, you were the only one who retained your memories. To me...This is the first time I’ve disciplined you in quite some time.

*Rustle*

“I shall teach you thoroughly. From head to toe.”

Ruki bites you.

*Sluuuuurp*

*Gulp gulp*

“Haah...What’s wrong? Have you become worked up because it has been a while since I sucked your blood? ...No, that’s wrong. I suppose that isn’t quite correct. You’ve been rewinding time again and again, haven’t you? Going back, doing things over, but those memories are burnt inside your mind. Did you never consider this? If you were to rewind time, the wounds left on your body would heal, but the pain you received from my fangs remains vivid in your memory. Unharmed skin, striking pain...No wonder your brain would become confused. If you were to repeat this process over and over, you might even go crazy.”

Your face goes pale.

“You only just realized? How foolish. You have been using the hourglass only to cover up your mistakes, haven’t you? However, you should have take notice of the weight of your actions. Well then, now that you understand...I shall give you a gift.”

*Cling*

“The red sand is almost like sand. ...This time, I shall use it.”

*Rustle*

“I shall rewind time and give you my fangs. Then repeat the process over and over. Your mind will slowly become numb from the continuous pain and pleasure. I am sure you can imagine what will happen to you if I keep on rewinding time, piling one memory on top of the other? Your disoriented mind will gradually begin to break. The overwhelming pleasure will make you go insane. You will surely...grow mad.”

You look at him in horror.

“What is wrong? You seem rather pale. You don’t mind, do you? You are the one who already used this hourglass plenty of times. I am sure I would have gone mad at some point as well. Well then, it seems like you understand what I have in store for you. I shall rewind time for us. Break for all I care!”

You beg for his mercy.

“Hmph. Now that’s a lovely cry. I can’t deny that seeing you thoroughly terrified like that does something to me. I see. So you want me to stop, huh? Why don’t you get down on your knees and plea? You might just be able to change my mind.”

You grovel in front of him.

*Rustle*

“I didn’t think you’d actually do it...Seems like your own identity as livestock has really sunken in. Although I suppose that only makes sense. I am the one who tamed you after all. However, it seems like you still fail to understand one thing. Have I ever gone easy on you in the middle of a discipline session?”

You flinch.

“Ah, seems like you remembered. You’ve become a little more clever at least. Seeing you tremble in despair is not a bad sight at all. Well then...Have a taste of Hell...”

*Tick tock - Tick tock - Tick tock - Tick tock*

ーーー

...

“I see. So this is how you’ve been rewinding time? Your skin is still untouched. It has indeed returned to its previous state, before I pierced it with my fangs. For the sake of your training, I made sure your memories remain intact. Do you remember what I was doing to you up until just now?”

You look at Ruki in fear.

“That look on your face makes for a fine reply. Furthermore, I can pick up the sweet scent of your blood, even though I have yet to bite you. It must be rather rough to be so worked up, no? No matter where I touch you now, it should make for an overwhelming stimulus.”

He steps closer.

“Shall we put it to the test? Just from running my fingers from your throat to your collarbone...”

*Rustle*

“Just as I thought. Simply carressing your skin makes the strong sensations eat away at you. How does it feel to slowly feel your body erode from the surface of your skin? On top of that...This should be nowhere near satisfying in your current state. The stronger the sensation becomes, the easier it will be to use this as a tool to manipulate you. I suppose I shall toy with you like this a little longer. Your arm or your back...Where else do you want me to touch you?”

Ruki paces around you.

“I have to give you an even stronger stimulus.”

You whimper in distress.

“You seem to be having a hard time. To show me such a shameless side of you, it seems like I have not yet disciplined you enough.”

*Smooch*

You squeak.

“I guess you are nearing your limit? Very well. I’ll suck you from behind this time.”

*Rustle rustle*

He bites you again.

*Sluuuurp*

“Mmh...Nn...”

*Gulp*

“Nn...Haah...Such lovely cries...The taste of your blood isn’t bad either. I can tell that your whole body has become heated. Ah, you are already starting to feel faint? Rest assured. We still have plenty of time...”

*Cling*

*Tick tock - Tick tock - Tick tock - Tick tock*

ーーー

...

“This works.”

You tilt your head to the side.

“Do you not understand? I turned back time. Your body is still unscathed. Like this, you won’t fall unconscious due to blood loss, right? Of course, the pain and pleasure you experienced still remain in your memory.”

You beg for him to stop.

“Not a bad cry at all. However, I shall not stop turning back time until your punishment is over. You are aware, aren’t you? You will only break free from this Hell, the moment you go mad. ...Hurry up and lose your mind already. If you want this suffering to end, that is.”

Ruki bites you again.

“Mmh...Nn...Fufu...Haah...Aah...I suppose I shouldn’t call it ‘suffering’. I suppose pleasure is already the only thing you can feel. Your eyes have lost focus. I doubt you can even still properly pick up my voice...Even your mouth is slacked...Mmh...”

*Smooch*

“What’s wrong? Is this not enough for you? Very well, I shall give it to you. I shall cover you with the marks of my fangs from head to toe. No matter how hard-handedly I treat you, all I need to do is rewind time afterwards. So I can do with this body of yours as I please...Ah, but I suppose it’ll stick in your memories. The intense pain, as well as the pleasure, crystal clear. Seems like you will be in quite the pinch once I rewind. I wonder how long you will be able to remain sane? Please rest assured. I don’t plan on giving you relief any time soon.”

He leans in.

“...I want you to suffer, between sanity and insanity.”

Track 6: Epilogue

*Rustle*

“...So you’ve lost consciousness? Isn’t that a little soon? Your body should still be overflowing with blood. There is just no way you would faint already. Of course, even if you do, I could simply rewind time. However...You better don’t think I will let you go mad so easily. I don’t plan on giving you relief after just one time. Your sin for deceiving me is grave. I shall engrave it deep inside your body, just how foolish and shameless you have been. ...So you can properly atone.”

*Rustle*

“Well then...It is time to wake up. I wonder how I should punish you next? Although, I am sure that whatever I do, it will be like pure torture to you.”

He paces around you.

“I am very much looking forward...to seeing you suffer in Hell.”

*Cling*

*Thud*

ーー THE END ーー

--> PROCEED TO ANOTHER STORY [DELUXE EDITION ONLY]

#diabolik lovers #dialovers #ruki mukami #diabolik lovers more more blood #diabolik lovers translation #diabolik lovers drama cd #drama cd

73 notes · View notes

bangtanfancamp · 4 years

Text

masterlist

Part 1 of the Silk Series

mafia!Namjoon x reader

mafia! au, Arranged marriage! Au

7.6k words

mature 👁 (who am I?), romance, fluff, implied first time? (Or maybe just no one’s ever loved her right)

Hi guys! surprise! Guess who’s back with a brand new one shot? I’d had an idea I was so tempted to try. It was supposed to be really quick, maybe just a few hundred words- more a blurb than anything else- but very quickly grew into an almost 8 thousand word story in the course of a day. This is very different for me. I've never toyed with mafia! au’s, and I’ve never written a proper story with Namjoon. Halfway through, I even though of changing it to Hobi- but joon is just too perfect for this genre. This is the first time I’ve ever written or shared a story that got quite this intimate. Clearly, since it’s me, there’s still a ton of heart, but writing this part of a love story is very new for me- so posting this comes with quite a bit of vulnerability. Feedback would be amazing. The absolutely beautiful moodboard was made by the ethereally talented @today-we-will-survive . It suits the story so perfectly in every way. I even went back to tweak small details to match up with her picture selections after I saw the board because they were just so impeccable.

I hope you enjoy it! —Christiana 💕✨

—————————————————————

“There she is.”

His gravelly voice sent a chill down your spine as you entered the room, softly locking the door behind you. Rolling his head to the side, Namjoon met your eyes. His gaze was so enticing, so seductive in the dark, but his smile was warm as ever. You were a puddle in his hands the second his dimples showed up and he knew it. As his eyes lazily raked over you, he opened his arms in invitation.

“Come here, baby girl.”

Lip tugged between your teeth, you hesitated, just for a moment. “Are you sure?” Your voice came out in the softest whisper, fingers tangling with the sash of your black silk robe. You traced the back of your calf with your foot, body language demure and unsteady under his gaze.

His smile stretched wider at your shyness. “I’m always sure.... I’ve been waiting all day for you.” He wet his lips as he watched you, his calm smile never wavering as you gathered your nerve to pad barefoot across the room to him and climb in bed beside him.

“Why?” you asked, genuinely curious. Risking a glance in his direction, your eyes fell back to the sheets between you when you found he was already watching you. “There must be so much more on your mind than me. Why on earth would you waste any of your thoughts on me when so much already demands your time?

“Why wouldn’t I? Knowing a girl as perfect as you would be in my bed tonight ? Why wouldn’t I be thinking of you?” As he reached over to toy with the ends of your hair, you took the opportunity to study him.

He was just so... beautiful. You never seemed to be able to get over that. Eyes dragging over the expanse of him, you felt your chest flutter at the bold way he presented himself to you. He didn’t bother to hide any part of his body the way you did. And he clearly had every reason to be as confident as he was.

His head was lolled back as he sat propped up against the carved headboard, one leg outstretched while the other was bent for him to rest his forearm on his knee. His silky skin lay exposed against the inky black bedding, his body draped in nothing but moonlight. The sculpture of his thighs was so inviting, it made something in you itch to reach out and touch him. As if he could read your thoughts, a smirk tugged at Namjoon’s lips.

Suddenly, without a word, his massive hands slipped around your waist and pulled you over into his lap. Shaken by the abruptness of it, your eyes darted across his face, trying to get a read on him and failing.

“Namjoon…” your breath hitched as he settled you down on top of him.

“Yes, Princess?” The shameless way he smiled back sent your pulse racing. “May I?” He gave a gentle tug on the knot to your robe. Swallowing, you nodded, almost too eagerly, but couldn’t bring yourself to speak. How could you when he looked at you like that? What girl could say no to the hunger in those eyes?

Slowly, his large hands set to finessing the silky knot loose at your waist. He unraveled it slowly, silence blanketing the room in perfect stillness as it came undone. A smile tugged at Namjoon’s lips as the cool air kissed your bare chest, the silken fabric dragging across your skin.

Using his finger tips, he slipped the robe delicately down your shoulders and off your arms. You held your breath as he sent chills sparkling down your skin at every point he touched. Your eyes fluttered shut as he gently discarded your robe somewhere out of your reach, leaving you fully naked under his gaze.

Being skin to skin with him like this still overwhelmed you. Even as shadows pooled in the edges of the room, you felt as exposed as if it had been midday. You couldn’t figure out where to look, where to start when so much of him was offered to you all at once. Or when so much of you was on display. But God, his skin was so warm. Always, always incredibly warm. It was so distracting.

His thumb brushed lovingly over the soft pink glowing on your cheeks. God, he loved how innocent you were.

“You’re blushing again. Why are you so nervous with me?” He tipped his face down to meet yours, laughter lighting up his eyes.

“Am I? Sorry… you’re just so…” your words trailed off, your pulse thumping in your ears, as your thighs settled down around the edges of his hips. A soft gasp tumbled out of your lips as you melted onto him, entirely bare now . Something dark flashed in his eyes as your warmth surrounded him. A sound you couldn’t describe slipped from the back of his throat when you did.

“I’m so what, y/n?” He whispered, never breaking eye contact with you.

You smiled up at him, a bashful subtle grin, as his palms kneaded softly into your waist. You loved the way he touched you.

Your hands found rest on the sides of his neck, the tops of his shoulders- fingertips tracing smoothly into his firm skin. “You’re so handsome. I still can’t believe you’re real.” You confessed, shaking your head.

Your eyes fell to his broad smooth chest as you played with the wisps of his lavender hair. Your fingers trailed down his neck, ghosting over the planes of his chest to rest on his solid stomach . “It’s hard to know what to do with myself around you.” You admitted.

His dimples deepened at your words. “So what can I do then? To make you feel more comfortable with me?” He bit his lip, light glinting off an especially sharp canine tooth as it sunk into the flesh of his bottom lip. His eyes were devilish, playful, despite his gentle words.

“What do you mean?” Your eyes flicked up, wide with wonder, mouth softly parted. It drove Namjoon wild.

“I don’t want you scared of me.” Leaning forward with a sinful smile, he pressed his lips to the shell of your ear and whispered, “I want you to enjoy yourself when you’re with me like this.”

Oh god. Your eyes fluttered shut, something you couldn’t name liquefying in your belly at his words.

“So I’m gonna need to know what you like, baby girl. I need you to tell me. Or show me.” His eyes were practically laughing at you now. The smirk on his lips was beautiful, cocky and dangerous for your health.

“But what… what if I don’t know what I like...yet?” You swallowed.

His eyes widened almost imperceptibly. Ever poised and always in control, he suppressed the jolt of excitement that coursed through him at your words.

“Is that why you’re so shy with me?”

“Is..what?” Your brow scrunched in confusion, before your eyes went wide, realizing what you’d admitted. Trying to correct your mistake, you floundered, sputtering out “oh! That’s-thats not…I mean, I’m not…I ha-...we just…”

“Shh, it’s okay.” His fingers slowly traced up and down your sides. “You don’t have to explain yourself to me.”

“It’s just that, we’ve only had two other nights together. And either time we didn’t… we never... did more than kiss.” Your palms rested against his broad chest, fingers embedding absent minded patterns into his skin. You couldn’t help it. Your affection for him spilled out unconsciously.

Placing a hand over yours, he brushed his fingers over your knuckles.

“Would you like to?” His voice was so husky this time of night, so rich and deep.

“Yes,” You whispered, head nodding softly. “How would we start?” You wondered. The words had barely left your mouth before your eyes were fluttering shut, his hands tracing lightly down your sides, his pace achingly slow until he reached your hips.

“Just like this,” he whispered. Curving his hands to palm the arc of your hip bones, he grunted , abruptly pulling you flush against him as you gasped. He made no attempts to hide his hunger tonight. As his gaze fell heavy on your mouth, his tongue flicked to trace his own lips. The sight of that alone overwhelmed you.

“Namjoon,” you breathed. The way he was looking at you, the way he held you- it was too much, too much all at once. Thumbs brushing tenderly into the fold of your hips, he dipped down, his face so close his lips brushed yours as he spoke. A predatory smile slipped across his face as he whispered,“ What is it, baby?”

“Kiss me….” it was meant to come out softly, but instead squeaked out as a whine. “Please.”

And in an instant, his lips had crushed against yours. A moan you couldn’t contain slipped out of you and he used it as an opportunity to slip his tongue in your mouth. Oh…..god. It’d been days since you’d kissed him, and even then, it hadn’t been like this. Today he was hungry, ravenous and every part of his kiss showed it.

His lips were soft and decadent, his kiss greedy to taste you. Your hands found themselves threaded in his always perfectly styled hair, woven in at his scalp, tugging to keep from tipping off the edge of the world as his tongue dove back in your mouth. His hands gripped into your hips so tight, you swore there’d be bruising in the morning. Perfect purple fingertips speckled across your skin. And you relished in it. You’d wear them like a badge of honor the next day.

Lost in the rhythmic, sloppy pattern of his lips, you didn’t notice when your hips began to glide against his. His hands traveled to grab your waist, his own hips bucking to match your pace. When you caught his lip between your teeth, he couldn’t help but snap his hips up against you, a gasp tumbling from your lips as he did. You found your back arching in pleasure as something effervescent began to build between your legs.

You’d wrapped your arms around his neck entirely, hands buried in his hair. You couldn’t get close enough to him. Your kisses were reckless, needy now as you felt him growing beneath you. You wanted more of him-needed more of him… if only you could..

“God, Namjoon…I-”

“F-ck… god, y/n.”

Foreheads pressed against each other, you both laughed, chests heaving frantically. A smile a mile wide blossomed on your face when you realized how wrecked you both were just from kissing each other. Laughter filled the space between you.

“God, you’ve gotten good at that.” He smiled, his eyes warm as he took in how beautiful you looked with your tousled hair and wild eyes.

“I had a lot of ground to make up.” You admitted bashfully. “You’re so much better at all of this than me.”

“I don’t know about that. You’ve been driving me crazy, y/n,” He dragged his mouth up your jaw to place an open mouthed kiss on your neck beneath your ear. It bloomed ruby against your skin- the way it drew his name to tumble off your tongue was the sweetest, most sinful sound he’d ever heard. “See? That’s what I’m talking about- how am I supposed to function all day knowing you make sounds like that?”

“J-joonie, stop… I cant… think when you do that.” You shuddered.

“Do what?” He arched a brow at you as he pulled back, feigning innocence with those wicked eyes.

“You know what.” You leveled him with a playful glare that just made him laugh. Your face became softer, thoughtful as you raked his hair back out of his eyes for him. “Hey, joon?”

He leaned into your touch, closing his eyes as you said his name. “What is it, princess?”

“I’m glad it was you.” Your voice breathy as you whispered. His eyes flashed open at your words. “It could’ve been anyone. I’m so glad it was you.”

Taking one of your hands in his, he pressed a tender kiss to your palm, exhaling slowly.

“I know this...whole situation has been strange.” His voice was lower now, deeper. “You never asked for this. To be here with me, be a part of this life. A girl as sweet as you married into the mafia? I know you grew up in this world- but no girl grows up dreaming their marriage would be arranged like this.” He licked his lips, brows furrowing to show you he was serious.

“No, I didn’t.” You admitted. “In a million years I never would’ve picked it. But, the second I saw you across the room… I- I don’t know. I knew I had to be beside you. There was just- something so different about you.” Your words felt inadequate to express how struck you’d been by him that day. Something in his eyes the day your father’s had introduced you had drawn you in and never let you go.

He’d been waiting for you that day at the top of the neatly carved stone steps in a suit so black and so crisp you could’ve cut yourself on it. The elegant tailoring hugged a body so statuesque that it was clear you’d never met a man more gorgeous than him and never would. Definitely not anyone one as sexy or dangerous.

But then, there was something more- just behind the fierceness of his presence. Beyond the aura of power around him lay the puzzle piece that was the most unique- the kindness he hid in his deep mocha eyes, the gentleness tucked away in the smiling corners of his full lips. When he’d pressed a kiss to the back of your knuckles that day in the dappled sunlight of the stained glass windows, something inside you just knew- Namjoon was different.

When he’d told you that no matter what, as dangerous as this life was, he was determined to keep you comfortable, keep you safe, that you’d always be protected with him-you knew he was genuine. That as far as he even could make that kind of promise- he meant it. You knew he’d do whatever he could to treat you right. With your history as the kingpin's daughter, you knew men that like were hard to find. His noble intentions alone had been enough to make you try to trust him. To build a bridge that began a shaky alliance.

When your wedding day had arrived after all of three conversations between you both, he’d snuck into your suite before the ceremony to make sure it was still what you wanted. His fist full of flowers, he’d called you beautiful but given you the chance to call it all off if that was what you wanted.

That was the second you knew you were his.

After securing your yes, he’d placed a kiss in your hair, slipped a golden hair comb into your palm that had been his mother’s and slipped back out of the room as silent as he’d entered with a whispered promise to see you at the altar. When you entered the church, you didn’t see anyone but him. Fitted black tux and hair swept back out of his eyes, his dimples were on display just for you. He’d slipped your hand in his once you’d made it down the aisle, winking when it ruffled the priest's feathers, but never letting go.

When he slid a golden band past your knuckle, you realized the filigree in the metal mirrored the brocade woven across his blazer- a gesture of the pride he took in catering to every detail he could for you. When the priest told him to kiss the bride, he’d seen the nervous panic in your eyes, choosing instead to whisper, “our first kiss will be ours. It doesn’t belong to these people,” as he turned to place the sweetest kiss on your cheek, just catching the corner of your lip.

That was the moment you knew you’d done the right thing.

Your massive wedding reception had been a blur of names, faces, negotiations. Because what was a wedding if not a chance to strengthen ties? At some point, Namjoon had vanished. No doubt pulled away by people’s eager, self interested ploys disguised as congratulatory small talk. You sighed. The family business clearly had no care for your comfort on this once in a lifetime day. Disappointing yes, but It didn’t surprise you.

So you’d resigned to settle in the immaculately gilded venue hall, half buried beneath the layers of your tulle gown, left alone to polish off the champagne and fend off invasive questions by yourself. The prodding, transactional affair had left you feeling dizzy and sick like an overworked show pony, but the second Namjoon reappeared, he was glued to your side. A whispered apology later, He’d pressed his hand to your waist, carving small circles into the small of your back with his thumb and dismissing the aggressive family friends pointedly reminding you of how soon you needed to have his child.

His breath swirling warm by your ear, he’d dipped down to whisper, “don’t pay them any mind. That happens when you’re ready. Not a second before,” before returning to the conversation, clutching you reassuringly close to his side as he excused you both to finally slice your cake.

That was the moment you saw the first glimpse of a future with him.

When he’d winked your way as buttercream frosting painted across his dimples, you felt the first bright beginnings of something beautiful blossom in your chest for him. You’d smeared the decadent cake across his face as the guests cheered, ignoring the glint of the glock tucked behind his hip. He’d playfully promised to get you back for that later as you both escaped beneath a magical cloud of confetti to the safety of his glossy black vintage car. For the first time, it was truly the two of you and not another soul.

That was the moment you finally felt yourself catch your breath

When you’d found yourself in his high rise that night, still buttoned up in ethereal white, you hadn’t known quite what to do with yourself. There was no hiding the fact that you were insanely attracted to this man. But you’d also just met him. Wonderful as he was shaping up to be, he was still a glorified stranger to you, even if you were now legally bound to him.

As kind as he was, he was still a man. With there being no prior discussion on how the night would go- you had to assume he was a man who was probably expecting what every man did on his wedding night. Surely, no man in his line of work especially was going to sit back and not get what they wanted on a night like tonight. In your circles, it was his right to. And you knew that.

You remembered his words whispered in your ear at the wedding reception, but who was to say those hadn’t just been said to keep you from bolting out the first available door? You hated to think he was capable of that, but truthfully, it was still far too soon to really know him. So, despite the way your heart leapt in your chest, desperately hoping Namjoon’s previous sentiments were genuine and true, you still braced yourself to be taken, whether you were ready or not.

But... he hadn’t.

Instead, he’d come to stand behind you, hands gentle on your waist, and planted sweet, tender kisses to the backs of your shoulders as he whispered, “we can go as slow as you want tonight. There’s no pressure here.”

This king was in no rush for an heir— it seemed he was perfectly content with romancing his queen—and it took the breath clean out of you. His lips had ghosted down along the side of your throat as he’d pulled away from your ear until your hands had caught his. Your wide trusting eyes trained on his as you guided his hands to the back of your dress.

A soft exhale later, He’d carefully begun undoing each button down the back of your cloud-like gossamer gown with achingly slow precision. You’d been so flustered, so divinely overwhelmed that you couldn’t bear to look at him as he touched you. Instead, you let yourself get lost drinking in the view as his fingers worked, distracting yourself with the glittering city skyline on the horizon from his rooftop high rise window.

From behind you, he’d smiled a soft smile he knew you couldn’t see as he watched your eyelids flutter, felt the way your breathing stuttered and trembled even as you sank against him. He allowed his lips to slowly get acquainted with the honey sweet taste of your skin as he went, dropping glorious velvet kisses along the way that bloomed across your spine.

The warmth of his lips had left you dizzy and craving, desperate to turn in his arms and catch his mouth in yours. But as the last button was finally unlatched, he’d stilled. A moment later, he embedded a warm, lingering kiss against your neck before stepping away to let you finish undressing alone- leaving you to stand in awe in the middle of the floor.

That was the moment you fell in love with him.

He’d been so careful not to rush you. How could you not?

Several moments later after a knock on the door, he’d returned with chilled champagne and a crystal flute in hand for each of you. Tangling his fingers with yours, he’d led you to his bedroom, your breath catching at the panoramic, floor to ceiling view of the sleeping city that could not see you back. Namjoon had all of it wrapped around his pinky, but his eyes only saw you that night.

Guiding you to the edge of his bed, he’d asked before slipping the silken straps of your nightgown off your shoulders and kissing his way from your collarbone up your throat. He’d told you how beautiful you were- how stunning you’d been since the moment he’d laid eyes on you, how perfect you’d looked coming down the aisle to meet him- before gently leaning into you for his first taste of your lips. True to his word, you’d had your first kiss alone together, skin to skin in the decadent stillness of his candlelit bedroom.

You’d spent the night tangled in his black satin sheets, wrapped in his arms, forehead to forehead as you whispered to each other . When your eyes had begun to fall heavy, your body soft and sluggish from all the champagne, he’d pulled you naked against his chest to let you fall asleep in his arms.

That was the first night. The business had required his attention for the next days after, and he hadn’t come to find you those nights. It had left you with a lot to process- you were already falling so deeply for him.

The second night, he returned to find your cravings for each other had grown deeper, headier, dizzier, but the dance was still delicate and Namjoon didn’t push. He’d been pulled away again, the ache in your chest growing insistent with your craving for him. And now, on the third night, here you both were, hearts wrapped up in each other, getting to know the other while you sat bare in his lap, straddling him, and desperate for more.

Now you knew.

Now you knew what you wanted.

But how to…

“Namjoon?” you began.

“Yes, Princess?” He caressed your face, tucking strands of your hair back in place. “What is it?”

“you asked earlier where I’d like to start...”

“Yes,” he smiled. “Do you have an answer yet?” His charming grin was back.

“Can I ride you?” For all your boldness, it tumbled out in a whisper rather than the seductive breathiness you’d hoped for. Your wide eyes locked on his, nervous for his reaction.

“Oh.” He swallowed, cocky smirk slipping right off his face. Whatever he’d been expecting you to say, it sure as hell wasn't that. Unable to read his reaction, you began pulling back.

“Un- unless you don’t want me to. You don’t have to I-“

“I want you to.” He interrupted, his words coming out too rushed. His eagerness made you giggle as he leaned forward to press his forehead to yours, laughing warmly. “See the mess you make of me?”

You smiled, proud of the effect you’d had on him. And eager to try. “Can you… show me how?” Your eyes found his, full of an innocence that undid him.

“Yeah,... yeah I can do that.” He gulped. His assured demeanor had slipped when he’d heard your boldness, but as he bit his lip in concentration, it was clear that his steady focus now was his form of restraint. He’d said things would go at your pace, and it took everything in him not to let the way he wanted to claim you strip the tenderness from this moment.

You needed him right now. He could not rush this. He could see the want, the desire in your eyes as he braced your hips once again, lifting you up to align you with him. He reminded himself to breathe before gently, excruciatingly slowly lowering you onto him. And the second he did, his vision went black.

“Oh my god,” he choked the second he felt you around him. “Baby girl, do you always feel like this?” His brows pinched as his bottom lip found its way between his teeth. Had any woman he’d been with ever felt as good as you did now?

Christ, he was almost done for now and he wasn't even fully inside you yet. He was beyond overwhelmed but he would not let his eyes leave yours. He couldn’t. No matter how badly he wanted to let them roll back in his head, he needed to stay present with you.

“I don’t know.” You answered honestly. “Do you?” Your heavy lidded eyes were already drunk on him. You’d never felt this full, this complete before. You didn’t even know it was possible to feel like this, and the both of you hadn’t even properly started.

“I hope so,” he chuckled. With a slow flourish of his hips, he finally sunk himself all the way into you, a throaty groan leaving both of you.

He took a second to bask in how incredible you felt. When he looked up, his gaze wandered over your face, memorizing how beautiful you looked with him inside of you. The glow of your skin, the state of your hair, the perfect smile in the corner of your lips.

“What is it?” You asked, curious why his eyes had become so soft as he watched you.

“Nothing,” He dismissed. He shook his head softly as a smile played on his lips.

“I love these,” you whispered, leaning forward to kiss his dimples, when all of a sudden your breath left you. The shift to move forward had changed his position in you, and the electric pull of it dazzled you. “Oh my god-What was that?” You asked, eyes full of wonder.

“What- you mean this?” He smirked and rolled his hips up into you, pulling you down onto him. You might as well have been having an aneurysm. That felt incredible.

“God, Yes. How do I do that again?” Your wide eyes suddenly looked ready to devour him. He was living for it.

“Just like this, baby,” stilling his own movement, he guided the flow of your hips, up and down. He slipped his hands around to cradle the back of your thighs, guiding you until you could move on your own accord. When you started, your timid movement felt stuttered, almost mechanically slow as you found your pattern. But the second you finally did, He melted at your rhythm, unable to keep himself from moving with you. Matching your movement, he met your glide with gentle methodical thrusts of his own, leaving him on the startled edge of breathless beneath you.

“There you go. That’s it. God, you’re so good at this.” He gushed.

The way he moved with you was something borderline miraculous. You’d never felt anything-anything- like this. Like him. Your belly felt molten. Your nervous system was overloaded and sparkling, exploding like fireworks on the Fourth of July.

Desperate for more of him, you snatched him to you, diving in and taking his lips in sloppy, wonton kisses. For the first time tonight, his hands slipped up and cradled the softness of your breasts and something in you snapped. Your pace as you bounced on him picked up into something frantic. As he kneaded the fullness of your breast, he slipped his tongue into your kiss and you felt it- felt each of your bones liquefy into mercury at his touch.

“F-ck. God, y/n. Yes.” He buried his head in your shoulder as your fluid hips accelerated. At some point, you weren’t even sure when, his fingers had found your nipples and whatever cadence your hips had previously followed crashed completely, creating a manic time signature all their own as his name flew sharp, high pitched from your mouth .

“Ugh, baby I- I…” you stuttered incoherently, your voice sticky sweet with need for him. You didn’t even know what you were trying to say, but the feel of him beneath you, the way the sweaty warmth of your bodies was starting to make your skin stick together, the way his hungry kisses on your throat made it just that much harder to breathe, made you just that bit lightheaded….you didn’t know what to do with yourself. You felt on the verge of unraveling.

And he let you. He was too in awe of the wild, beautiful creature you’d become, too enamored with the way your body had molded into his. He got lost in the way your delicate face screwed itself together as you chased your high. He would never get over how deeply he was beginning to fall for you.

He noticed the way your bottom lip was swollen from how hard you were biting it now, holding back the illogical scream building in the back of your throat as you rocked with him. Why did something that felt so good make you almost want to cry?

“Shhh. hey, give me this,” his thumb brushed your lip free from the way you’d been torturing it, and in your maddened state, you pulled his thumb into your mouth to suck on it. Namjoon’s pulse exploded as he pulled you back in for another impossibly perfect kiss.

“Namjoon… I… I think I’m close, but I don’t… I don’t know how to....” Your nails had begun to dig half moons into his shoulders, and your lip was back between your teeth as shaky exhausted moans spilled out of you.

“How to what, baby girl?” He asked, just breathless.

“How do I let go?” Your brow was scrunched, eyes pleading- it took everything in him not to come undone at that alone. Captivated by how gorgeous you were as you looked up at him, he found himself leaning down to suck a path of glorious ruby splotches up your neck.

“Do you feel it?” His breath was warm against your ear now. “That pressure? That thing you can’t name that makes you feel like you’re losing your mind and finding it all at the same time?”

“Yes,” You panted, eyes squeezed shut, chest bouncing against his.

“Then let go, feel it.” He instructed.

“But…how?” Your beautiful face was almost in agony at how good he made you feel. The depth he hit inside you, the way the pleasure you felt overwhelmed you. All you wanted was to give into it.

“You don’t think- just feel it.” He whispered, his voice dark as honey. “I've got you, baby girl. You’re safe with me.”

Your hands buried themselves in his hair. You clutched the strands almost too hard, but Namjoon didn’t care. He reveled in the sting of it, watching your face as you unconsciously snatched his head back, a wicked smile overtaking him as he watched you.

“Do you trust me?” He breathed, his gloriously low voice rumbling in his chest.

You couldn’t think, couldn’t remember how to speak at this point. The ravenous tension building in your gut was stealing all your attention. It was all you could do just to nod your head yes for him. The beautiful wreck he’d made of you made a smile stretch across Namjoon’s lips.

“Then relax for me. Breathe. Let go, baby girl.” He slipped a hand between your bodies, his touch ghosting in a place that made your eyes shoot open and gasp.

Namjoon leaned his head back against the headboard and let you go. Gritting his jaw, he closed his eyes, fighting back the building pressure he’d told you to give yourself over to.

He needed to mentally pull back and let you enjoy this.

If he could give you anything, it was making sure you finished first on your first time together. And from the way he could feel the electric tension building in his own abdomen from just watching you and feeling the constricting velvet warmth of you, he knew the second he took charge of what was happening, he’d be done for. It’d all be blown.

The lust he felt watching the gorgeous feral goddess his shy girl had become was consuming him. The hungry way your eyes raked over him, the bright flush on your glowing bare skin, the way you made him feel so desperate for you- He’d never felt anything like it.

But beyond how incredible you made him feel, he was struck by how in awe of you he was. You’d been so brave to accept this whole arrangement. He never should have even found you- you shouldn’t have been real to start with.

You were so gentle and smart. Your heart was so kind. The way you trusted him with you so quickly had alarmed him. He was quickly becoming aware of how precious and rare you were. And what a privilege it was to be the man you’d allowed into your bed to fall apart on. You’d completely surprised him. You were beautiful. You were perfect. You were…

And that was the moment he knew.

Without a word, his hand reached up to cup your cheek. His other hand brushed back the stray strands of hair beginning to stick to your forehead as his hips quickened again to match your pace. Everything in him wanted to make you feel good. Gently caressing your face as he watched you, he couldn’t help the loving words leaving his mouth.

“You’re the most beautiful woman I’ve ever seen.”

Startled by his praise, you looked up. Everything about him just now was so gorgeous- he didn’t seem human. No one should look that perfect glistening in sweat like this, but he did. His body, his face, his aura - how in god's name had you gotten lucky enough to find him? To have him like this? When your eyes found his, his thumb brushed against your cheekbones, drawing your focus back to the moment, back to him. The look he gave you almost broke you in half.

“Y/n, I'm in love with you.”

And the cord in your belly snapped. Completely unraveled against him, as your body fell apart.

His admission had tipped you so far over the edge that you were free falling, careening straight into pleasure as the feeling of him- all of him- wracked your body. The sounds you made, the beautiful twisted cries of his name against his neck left him so close to falling apart with you. And that astounded him. It’d never happened for him at the same time as his lover. For a second, it almost wrecked him, but he held back. Determined to let your pleasure be the focus tonight.

And in one glorious instant, you collapsed.

Melting into his neck, you unraveled. Panting, exhausted, you’d slumped against his body, your lifeless arms draped limply over his shoulders. You’d never felt so free of tension in your life. Chuckling to himself at the undone mess you’d become, His fingers lovingly traced your back as he pressed kisses along your jaw and in your hair. You still hadn’t said a coherent thing yet.

“N-nam…Namjoon?” language was still clearly too clunky a thing for you to manage right now.

“Yes, Princess?” he chuckled at how far gone you were, lightly brushing your hair out of your face.

“That..was incredible,” you gushed the last word out in a breathy exhale. “Does it..always feel like this?” Tilting your head on his shoulder, you tried to peek up at him.

“It should, yes.” His eyes held so much affection, so much warmth as he smiled down at you. You lifted a wobbly finger to poke at his dimple, your own cheeks blushing as you giggled softly against his skin. “I think it’s time for bed, baby girl.”

He lifted you, body limp and boneless to lay beside him. Gasping as he pulled you off, you seemed to notice for the first time how hard he still was. Pressing up on your wrists, you resisted as he tried to tuck you in.

“But wait- we- you didn’t…”

“Shh, I know..” he laughed warmly at your sudden concern.

“But that’s not fair to you. I-“

“It’s okay, baby. Breathe,.” he cut you off, hands lovingly stopping your palms that you’d pressed to his chest. “That can be tomorrow’s adventure.” He winked, his warm breath heavy against your skin. Your eyes widened, a now familiar feeling glowing beneath your skin for him.

“Are you sure? I can always…” you slipped a hand free, tracing it slowly down his abdomen, your pressure increasing the lower you went. You caught the way his chest froze, completely still when your fingertips dipped to rest just below his navel.

“Y/n,” your name was so strangled and pretty when it fell from his lips. “No.” He caught your wrist again, more firmly this time. Bringing your hand to his lips, he pressed a slow kiss to the tip of each of your fingers before holding it against his cheek. His eyes fell heavy on your lips again, your pulse hitching at the solid unwavering lust in his eyes. When he spoke this time, his brows drawn together to gather the last bits of his composure he had left, you finally listened.

“We went at your pace. Now we go at mine.” The aura around him was so masculine then, so commanding- it was intimidating at best, but his tone with you was still gentle. Always. He was right- he’d been so patient and unhurried with you. The least you could do was return the same for him, no matter how greedy you felt for more now that you’d had him. Now matter how much you wanted to learn all the ways he tasted- you’d listen.

Nodding obediently, you leaned in to kiss him. “We go at your pace tomorrow.” The submission in your eyes tempted him to roll you over on your back right now and show you just how dangerous your word choice was, but he didn’t. Instead he leaned back into you, kissing you slow and sweet, tipping you until you were laying back, surrounded by the soft bedding. Bracing your head with his hand, he laid you down, chasing your lips with his.

“That’s my good girl,” he whispered, brushing your nose with his. Something tightened in him when he saw the way your eyes sparkled at his praise. He shook his head to clear it- thoughts like those were for another time.

“Come lay with me?” you asked him. Your voice was honeyed, so sweet as your hands lovingly stroked through his hair, willing him to come scoop you up like he had the nights before.

“Of course, baby girl,” leaning down beside you, he slid his body against yours, moulding into your side as you laid on your back. You sighed when you felt the weight of him bury itself against your leg. Pressing your cheek against his chest, you buried your face into him as his hands traced the soft flesh of your stomach just beneath your breasts. The warmth of his skin and the glittering pin pricks of his touch dancing across your skin fused together in a perfect dance as you melted against him. It was so soothing and wonderful. The moment was so perfect in your blissed out high that without meaning to, the words had just slipped out.

“I think I’m falling in love with you too,” you whispered, the words hanging in the air above you both as his touch stopped.

Had that been too much? you wondered. He had said it too, but perhaps that had just been the adrenaline of the moment. Maybe he’d forgotten he said it. Or maybe he simply hadn’t meant it- not in the way you did. The silence unnerved you the longer it persisted. You went to pull away from him, suddenly embarrassed at your nakedness, when his hands reached out to pull your waist against him.

He tangled his legs with yours as his lips did the same, a sudden urgency to his kiss that hadn’t been there before. “You’re perfect,” he breathed, hushed between kisses. “Can’t believe you’re real.” When he pulled back, the smile that blossomed across his face was as bright as the midday sun. His happiness was brilliant, contagious, as he wrapped you against him, his broad palm splayed across your back.

Your fingers traced his collarbone, a giddiness you hadn’t expected flowing through you. “I think I’m going to like being your wife.” You confessed, a wide grin illuminating your face.

“Yeah? You think so?” His fingers dragged down the valley of your spine, delicate touches as you smiled beneath him.

“I’m so spoiled already.” You blushed, hiding your face away in the expanse of his chest.

“Not as much as i am,” he laughed, his bottom bitten as he smiled. He rolled to pull you against him as you settled into the arc of this chest. Lips in your hair, he felt himself starting to drift as the warmth of your body lulled him to rest. You’d been so thoroughly worn out tonight- it was taking everything in you to stay awake as it was, even without the steady patterns he was tracing into your skin as you laid with him.

Eyes falling heavy, you pressed your nose to his collarbone, lightheaded at the warmth of his scent. Laying soft kisses on his neck, you felt the rumble of his laughter deep in his chest.

“We’ll never get any rest if you keep doing that.”

Blushing, you dipped your head demurely back to his chest. “Sorry… I can’t help it.”

“I thought you were nervous with me.” He teased.

“How could I be after everything?” Your flushed cheeks betrayed how overwhelmed by him you still felt.

“We’ll see how you are tomorrow then, won’t we? See if you’re still this good a girl for me when I taste you for the first time.” Tipping his finger beneath your chin, he lifted your lips to his, dizzying you with another molten, golden kiss. His tongue slipped into your mouth, teasing you with promises for the next time he brought you into his bed. When he pulled back with a pop, your body fell slack against him, enamored with the wicked gleam in his eyes

“Maybe I want to taste you too,” you confessed, not one to be one upped. The look on his face was absolutely worth it, his eyelids falling heavy at the image of your angelic face doing something so obscene to him. He gulped, trying and failing to not be aroused by the thought, feeling himself swell traitorously against the top of your thigh.

“Oh, you’re gonna be a fun one, princess.” He squinted at you, tongue running over his teeth. You could play the game better than he thought.

“We’ll see won’t we?” You winked, nails dragging across his chest. Something low in his stomach lit up at your touch, a groan slipping out of his throat.

“Holy… woman, let me go to bed.” He pleaded, brows pinched together. He wouldn’t be able to hold himself back if you kept doing things like this.

“If that’s what you want. Your pace. Tomorrow.” your smile promised a thousand things Namjoon never thought he’d see in your innocent eyes.

Before he knew what was happening, your lips were on his again, tongue warm and hungry, before turning around to press your back to his chest. Your hips nestled flush against him, a giggle betraying you when you felt rut him involuntarily against you.

Namjoon felt his eyes roll back in his head at the pressure of you against him, his hands locking themselves around your hips to still you and steady himself.

“God, you’re gonna be the death of me.”

Forehead pressed to the back of your neck, he shuddered as you curved yourself back against him again, slowly, almost imperceptibly this time.

“I clearly underestimated how dangerous you are.” The smile in his voice betrayed him.

““Goodnight, husband,” You cooed, pulling his arm beneath your breast. Slipping his hand up to palm one, he nuzzled against your neck, a dark chuckle on his lips when you gasped.

“Tomorrow. My pace.”

-fin.

855 notes · View notes

mc-critical · 3 years

Note

Since you said you just rewatched Isabella's arc, what do you think really happened at her end? Was she really killed or just sent away by boat to a monastery in Vienna like Suleiman said to Ibrahim? Hurrem told Nigar and Gul aga to throw them to sea, but scene was cut after Gul aga then said princess was still alive. A little hesitation seems to happen in Hurrem's face. Or maybe that really happened and Suleiman knew everything and just wanted to exculpate Hurrem so he kinda lied to Ibrahim? What do you think? :)

It remained more of a plot hole than anything, since the show didn't confirm it outright still, but I think there were much more hints given that Hürrem actually killed Isabella and SS eventually learned about it and covered for her than any other possible resolution for the plot line.

Hürrem was very adamant in throwing both Karmina and Isabella to Bosphorus and despite of the look she gave after Gül told her the princess was alive, there wasn't any indicator that she might have changed her mind. (or else they would have shown us, because think about it, would the show miss a chance in showing that Hürrem has some remorse/humanity left inside of her, even in regards to her enemies at this point? Highly doubt it.) Isabella and the servant were already gone in the morning and while I get why, say, Gülşah would wait until the morning to tell Mahidevran about her discovery through eavesdropping (she wasn't the brightest crayon in the room and the plot demanded it for a reason.), why would Nigar and Gül Aga wait until the morning to execute Hürrem's order? They knew full well that it was risky to keep her there, for that someone would find her sooner or later, Hürrem also knew that and wanted them to quickly deal with this problem (Nigar has shown her agency when it came to the orders of someone before, but given she helped with the poisoning, ordered by Ibrahim, that brought Karmina's death, would she risk Isabella being around to expose everything? And Gül Aga was unconditionally loyal to Hürrem.), so that's why I think they threw them both into Bosphorus before the morning came and were done with it.

Now, it would be something else if someone from SS's people found Isabella, told SS and he somehow intervened. Alright, but how and when exactly did that happen when SS had no idea whatsoever of what had happened to Isabella in the morning? Did he simply pull an act then? That would have been too much of a stretch, even for him. He wouldn't scold everyone and call for an investigation if he did. Even if he found out eventually, was there even a time for him to intervene? The episode was pretty tick with its plot threads, the pacing was very fast and we quickly, very quickly transitioned with Hürrem declaring her victory in front of little Mihrimah when we were still in day, while SS's confrontation with Hürrem was at night. How would he intervene and what would he do? Make up a story and send Isabella back to her country instead? Actually, Melike Ipek Yalova once claimed that this is what happened in an interview, little Mustafa had that suspicion while Mahidevran was looking at the SS-Hürrem nightly confrontation as well, and that could be the truth and it makes what the show showed even messier as a result, but dizis are usually written week for week and Meryem Uzerli mentioned in her confession interview about her disappearance in S03 that the script was constantly changing due to Meral's illness, hence that could've been only one of the versions of what happened and Melike might have had no idea about what they ultimately chose. (similarly to Cansu Dere, who, as I discerned due to her take on Firuze's relationship with SS in the MC: "Secret World" documentary, had no idea about the poison twist, probably because that was revealed after Cansu left and they simply hadn't planned the twist in advance. Melike's last scene as Isabella was her confrontation with Hürrem before Hürrem gave the order to get rid of both Karmina and her.) In-universe, SS couldn't have possibly brought her back to her country in my opinion, why? Because he was so ready to use Isabella as a tool for his political game just until a while ago, wanted her as close as possible (that was his reasoning for having her in the harem) and while he may have given a sign to Ibrahim that he may do an exception with her as a state matter due to him having a halvet with her, wouldn't sending her to his country thwart all he had in mind entirely? Wouldn't that be a little too risky when SS declared her dead? (yes, Gritti sent a message to Frederick that Isabella was actually alive and Frederick planned to get her back somehow, but no one else next to him believed him about that and told him to stand still, hence most people still thought of her as dead and SS has no idea that Frederick and Gritti know.) Okay, maybe he wanted to protect Isabella from Hürrem doing something to her since she's too valuable as a state matter and he didn't want strife in his harem (or at least that's what he convinces himself), so he might have put her somewhere far from everyone. But wouldn't it be more logical to send her to Carl, just as he planned, again not a while ago? Maybe he wanted to have her somewhere no one expected her to be, but why in her country, he would lose political points like this?

If he brought her to a monastery for her to cleanse herself of her sins like he actually said, he gives up from using her as a political tool entirely.... why exactly? Because of Hürrem and because of protection, when he still prioritized politics over his harem after all? (and he said a few episodes ago that the empire cannot be ruled when you're influenced by a woman or her tears) He may have thought she was played enough and maybe he wanted to give her a closure, but again, we're back to when did that happen exactly when the events were running one after another? Yes, this way he would have a win-win and Isabella would be far and secluded from everyone, but where did all the grand plans with her go, how did it happen? He demanded investigation while Isabella was gone after all and if he found out from the investigation, I doubt he could've interfered, because I doubt Isabella survived a throw into Bosphorus or she somehow escaped herself or found a ship that could save her or something. Besides, what happened to Karmina then? If SS found out, she would've been thrown into Boshorus anyway, because she was dead and no one would leave Isabella hanging until he waited for the investigation results? And if not, what, his people would just drag Isabella along to a monastery off-screen? And would Isabella trust they even were SS's people after what happened to her in the harem? This would've been much of a chase. Even without people, how did SS order a boat in the middle of the night when what happened happened in the morning after? etc. etc.

I believe SS found out about this whole ordeal at a point when he couldn't have interfered anymore and made up a story to cover for Hürrem and the loss. This simply makes the most sense given the timeline of events. While we were still wondering what happened to Isabella, Valide heard Hürrem's words to Mihrimah, her telling SS and after a conversation between the foreigners that had nothing to do with Isabella, a transition between day and night happened. Then Hürrem is called by SS, Gül is worried and Hürrem tells him the following: "If you acted like this all day, everyone must have understood that it was you." (along with him being worried about Mahidevran telling SS about her suspicions, which hints even more that they were correct.) This says more than enough for me. Hürrem sees her order as executed and the results of SS's investigation must have come to him at the night and then he couldn't have done anything, but simply make up a story to save his dignity and Ego, what's done is done. The confrontation with Hürrem itself shows that SS already knows more about Hürrem's involvement in the matter than simply Valide's accusations: he looks madder than he would if Isabella wasn't a lost cause, he started to speak about how his kids should always know who he is and then switched to asking Hürrem to remember who she's standing in front of. She has apparently crossed a line, a pretty big line that went over SS's own head. He also says: "What kind of love is this, Hürrem? Is love destroying? What's the limit of it? When will you stop? When will you be stopped?". Would he say that if she hasn't gone on the road to no return regarding Isabella? Yes, SS has punished her for something she hasn't done before in the past, he has played both with actions and words her and everyone else more than once, but this time these words leave room for something else. They hint that Hürrem has gotten what she wanted and that she couldn't be stopped, not even by him.

The confrontation with Ibrahim happened only the next day, after SS confronted Hürrem and came to terms with what happened. After all, he can't say outright, not even to Ibrahim who knew was against Hürrem and already doubted for other stuff, that Hürrem has done it under his nose. It would accommodate him much more to project the image of a higher authority who doesn't allow for stuff to happen without his knowledge and consent, for people to respect him as such and reconsider working behind his back or betraying his trust. SS wants absolute loyalty and when he can't get that or he suspects that he hasn't gotten that, he tends to remind everyone of how above them he is, no matter how much has he messed up himself or how right or wrong are his deeds.

I may be overthinking, because all this arc turned out to be was pointless fuel at the end of the day and I doubt they applied so much logic to it, but this is where I stand on its resolution.

#magnificent century #muhteşem yüzyıl #muhtesem yuzyil #sultan suleiman #hurrem sultan #isabella fortuna #ask #ganeshkfp

13 notes · View notes

twothumbsandnostakeincanon · 4 years

Text

Little bit sick, little bit sleep deprived, but above all desperately in sudden need of a Corpse Bride au, but with polyamory like the original SHOULD have ended.

Like say the Argents are the old money family, whose money has actually run out after Gerard dumped all of it into hunting. It’s left Chris with nothing to give his daughter.

The Stilinskis are nouveau riche, and good people. John offers to help out Chris, possibly lend him money for stable investments that might help. Chris is embarrassed but grateful. Victoria is ashamed and suspicious.

She insists that the deal can only go through with a marriage of their children to ensure that the fates of their families are intertwined. John won’t be able to pull the money out from under them without it effecting his own son negatively.

Chris is 100% against it, ready to say absolutely not, but Allison steps in. She knows what their financial sitation is. Their house is falling apart around them. She’s willing to do whatever has to be done to save them.

John, for his part, is shocked by the request. He offered his help, and now they’re asking for his son? He’s ready to say no, to condemn Victoria’s interference, but Stiles, like Allison, steps in.

The Argents need help. Stiles is under no illusions as to how most marriages work. His parents’ was one of the very few that began for love rather than economic reasons. He’s never met Allison, but has heard enough about her from their social circles to think they’ll make passable partners. There’s really no reason to say no, especially not if it will save her family from poverty.

The arrangement is made, and they meet. It goes better than anyone could have hoped, honestly. Stiles is happy to find Allison clever and engaging, and Allison is relieved to find that Stiles seems to be very encouraging of her sportsmanship. It certainly doesn’t hurt that they make a gorgeous pair.

It’s not love at first sight, but it could easily grow into something beautiful.

The ceremony is rushed, what with a rather immediate need for money. The invitations are sent out to family and friends- the McCalls, the Hales, the Martins- but almost no one will be able to arrive until the day of the wedding. Luckily at least one family member is able to make it for the rehearsal dinner.

Allison always was a favorite of Aunt Kate.

Stiles is nervous, though. His ADHD doesn’t do memorization very well, and he cannot, for the fucking life of him, remember his vows. Despite quiet encouragement from Allison, the anxiety starts to overwhelm him and he has to step outside for a moment between courses.

He paces in the woods just out of sight for a bit, trying to remember the words.

“Your cup- this cup- ah fuck.”

He gives up and pulls the little sheet of paper out of the pocket, reciting the whole thing from beginning to end.

“With this hand I will lift your sorrows

Your cup will never be empty, for I will be your wine.

With this candle, I will light your way into darkness.

With this ring, I ask you to be mine.”

A sudden howl of wind tears through the grove of trees he stands in. Dead leaves swirl around him, and the ground beneath his feet begins to move, rolling as if it were being pulled like the tide. Stiles falls on his back.

A figure appears before him, a half decayed body dressed in a tattered suit, the space between exposed ribs showing the starry sky behind him.

“I do, darling.”

Stiles wakes up in a bar in the underworld. Convenient, as he’s honestly never been more prepared for a drink in his life. It’s too bad all of the drinks are for a deader liver than his.

The handsome corpse- can a corpse be handsome? Stiles spends a moment on the question, and decides that finding a corpse handsome is probably the least of the things he should be worrying about right now.

The corpse, who is by at least some definition handsome, introduces himself as Peter, and then turns around and immediately starts introducing Stiles as his husband.

“Uh, sir? Excuse me sir?”

“Oh ‘sir’ is it?” Peter says with a sinful smile and a raised eyebrow. “I can work with that.”

“No- I mean maybe- Wait, no, I can’t be your husband! I’m about to be someone else’s husband!”

“But you’re already mine,” Peter points out. “You asked and I said yes.”

“I wasn’t talking to you, I was just-“ Stiles waves a vague hand, “-talking.”

Peter frowns a little.

“But I said yes. We’re married now.” He shrugs a little, as if it’s no consequence. “I suppose if you’re really attached to them, they can be our husband too.”

“Wife,” Stiles corrects, wondering how a dead man is steering this conversation so successfully when he doesn’t even have all of his finger bones.

“Oh a wife! I’m not picky. It’s good to have variety.”

Meanwhile, above ground, Allison knows something must have happened to Stiles. Her mother is convinced that this is just the Stilinski’s trying to ruin their family name, and Chris is desperately trying to keep the peace between her on the warpath and John freaking out over his missing son. Allison tries to slip out with her bow to track him, but Kate catches her.

“You should stay here,” she says, guiding Allison back to her room. “Who knows what your mother will think if you disappear too?”

Allison argues, tries to reason with her, but before long she’s back in her room, listening to the lock of the door click behind her.

Frankly she’s shocked that Kate would take such an attitude about this. She’s always been supportive of Allison’s archery and tracking. Maybe even too supportive, because Kate’s attempts to stop Allison have zero affect on her. It’s just ten minutes later that Allison disappears into the woods after climbing out her window and down the side of the house.

Kate, meanwhile, is just thrilled that she doesn’t have to come up with her own diversion. The chaos of the missing fiancé will provide the perfect cover for her to intercept the Hales before they arrive, and finish killing them off.

Underground, Stiles discovers that if he listens closely, Peter reveals a lot in the spaces between words. Eventually Peter admits that he has to have a True Love Up Top in order to visit the living. And he has one very, very important visit to make.

“She promised to elope with your nephew, and then tried to murder him?” Stiles whispers, shocked.

“Wolfsbane,” Peter answers grimly, and to be honest, werewolves have been the most acceptable surprise Stiles has suffered today. “He got away. I didn’t.”

“Shit.”

They’re both silent for a minute.

The Stiles says, “Alright, well what are we waiting for? Let’s go kill her.”

Peter falls a little bit in actual love then.

When they get to Elder Gutknecht, Peter proudly lifts up his hand, showing off the ring rattling around the bone there, and says, “Gotta pop up for a bit and visit the in-laws!”

Elder Gutknecht peers closely at Stiles (who is trying not to think too hard about the purpose of glasses for a skeleton) and says, “What the hell have you done now, Peter.”

“You said I had to have a True Love who was still alive!” Peter says, stubborn. “This is my True Love, Stiles. The truest love. We’re married, even. That’s how in True Love we are. And he’s alive. Send us up, Gutknecht.” There’s more than a touch of threat to his tone by the end.

Elder Gutknecht, who was not prepared for this in seminary and honestly thought there would be more clouds and wings in his afterlife, says, “Fuck it. Drink this. You have 12 hours.”

Moments later, they’re standing in the grove where Stiles recited his vows on accident. Allison immediately drops down from a tree, bow pointed directly at Peter.

“Step away from my fiancé,” she growls, sounding utterly threatening and wolf-like in her own right.

“Oh, is this our wife?” Peter asks, delighted.

“Ally, where’s your Aunt Kate?” Stiles rushes to ask, stepping between them.

Allison lowers her bow, confused.

“She’s back at the house,” she says slowly. “At least I think so. She locked me in my room and I had to sneak out.”

Peter’s lost his sense of smell with the degrading of his body, but he still has other senses to rely on.

He hears coaches and horses.

Familiar coaches and horses.

His family is arriving.

Peter takes off running through the woods, Allison hot on his heels, not at all convinced that she doesn’t need to shoot him. Stiles falls behind, but manages to keep them in his sight.

Up ahead, Kate is lying in wait with wolfsbane smoke bombs, ready to disrupt the coaches and massacre the beasts within. Or she was ready, before her brother discovered her.

“Kate, you can’t do this,” he says through gritted teeth. “It’s murder. This is how our father destroyed our family.”

“It’s not murder to kill a wild animal,” she says, neither listening nor caring. The coaches appear. She throws a smoke bomb and opens fire. Peter hears everything from the tree line as he barrels toward them, and Allison sees what her Aunt has done.

Chris tries to tackle her but only succeeds in knocking her aim astray. The Hales are stumbling out of their coaches now, coughing and choking. Talia is trying to gather her betas, trying to asses the danger, but suddenly she sees the image of her dead brother and wonders if maybe they’ve already lost to whatever attacked them.

Then her brother leaps at a woman on the side of the road and rips her throat out.

Maybe not a ghostly spectre after all.

It’s all a bit of a Business™ after that.

Explanations are had, both past and present. Peter rushes things along a bit, because he only has like 11 hours left now and it’s going to take at least 9 to do the necromantic ritual that will bring him back to life, suck on that Elder Gutknecht.

Chris explains to Allison about their family’s hunting history. The Hales explain to Chris exactly what Kate had done. Stiles explains how he accidentally got married. Peter explains again that he really has to get moving now.

In the end, Stiles and Allison still get married. Peter is in attendance with the rest of the Hales, and at the reception somehow manages to get the second dance with both the bride and the groom.

He doesn’t give the ring back. He manages to get a third matching one in time for the ceremony though.

#long post #lmao I feel way sicker now #probably because I wrote this instead of sleeping #steter #stallison #stetallison #?#that’s it right?#whatever #does peter/allison even have a ship name #this blog needs a tag for my bullshit #sorry I can’t put this under a cut I wrote the whole thing on my phone while laying on my side with one arm pinned under me #so we’re all suffering together #corpse bride au #tumblr fic and kinda fic

271 notes · View notes

jamespotterthefirst · 4 years

Text

Wish and Command

Pairing: Dr. Ethan Ramsey x F!MC (Dr. Lilac Allende) Word count: 2.5K Premise: They have been planning a proper night out after weeks of dating in secret, but she has other ideas in mind.

Warning: Strong Language and NSFW content. Please use discretion and caution when viewing this work. By viewing of this work, you consent that you are 18+

__________

Ethan knew he was in trouble when his hand lazily trailed down from her hip to the hem of her bathrobe. As he buried his face in the crook of her neck, he realized he was entirely helpless against the effortless power she wielded over him. By the time his fingers skimmed her inner thigh, he accepted and enjoyed being entirely at her mercy.

In response to his movements, Lilac laughed, a breathy sort of knowing laugh that inspired the most inappropriate thoughts.

“We should be getting ready,” she reminded him, already short of breath. The thought that his effect on her was as immediate as hers on him made his body pulse fiercely with lust.

Ethan groaned against her shoulder, begrudgingly acknowledging that she was correct. After weeks of stolen kisses and clandestine trysts in his apartment, he had promised to take her out on a real date.

At that precise moment, however, with Lilac's body pressed flush against him, his hand pushing the tantalizing lace under her robe aside, all he wanted to do was take her to bed.

Again.

The soft, unrestrained moan that escaped her when his fingers reached their target forced him to reconsider the bed. Any surface in their immediate proximity would do.

“We're going to be late,” she whimpered, the sound reverberating off the walls of his lavish bathroom.

Wickedly, he increased the movement of his fingers. “Then you better hurry up and cum, Rookie,” he whispered roughly against her ear.

She quivered violently at that, her body doubling over to press further into his straining hardness.

“Ethan,” she uttered in a broken little moan. “Fuck, fuck, fuck.”

He loved her dirty mouth.

Her body shivered as she finished, his fingers helping her ride out her pleasure. When they both stilled, she turned her hungry mouth on him.

Ethan grinned at her eagerness, but gently pushed her away.

“No time,” he reminded her when she opened her mouth to protest, the lovely flush coloring her cheeks and losing itself down the front of her robe making her that much harder to resist.

“I'll make it quick,” she promised in a heady whisper that tempted him far too easily.

He laughed softly. “I much prefer it when you take your time, Rookie,” he told her with a kiss. “We'll have that time when we return.”

The disappointment in her beautiful face was fleeting, soon replaced with pensiveness. Another emotion quickly flashed and before Ethan could place it, it disappeared.

“Fine,” she agreed, her fingernail trailing slowly down his bare chest as he held her. Ethan stilled, marveling at how that was all it took to be at her disposal. “I'll have my fun with you later.”

His throat went dry at the words, his erection hardening even more so. Just as he began to wonder if they could reschedule their night out in favor of spending the whole evening in bed, she moved away with a deliberate sway of her hips.

-----------------

“Okay, I'm ready,” she informed him fifteen minutes later, emerging from his bedroom.

Ethan almost choked from his place on the couch, where he had patiently waited for her, pushing away all filthy thoughts of her body. Those thoughts flared up with a vengeance at the sight of her.

She stood there, looking like an apparition straight from an Old Hollywood film, a dazzling gold dress clinging to her, accentuating every dip and swell of her body in the most sinful way. More dangerous than the glittering dress itself or the smirk she wore to compliment it was the neckline, plunging low and leaving very little to his overactive imagination. Feeling uncontrollably greedy, his eyes fell to the slit at its side, gracing the world, but especially him, with a view of a long, shapely leg.

Lilac waited, enjoying his stunned silence.

“You look–”

“Adequate?” she finished with a laugh. Ethan rolled his eyes but the effect was lost by the smile she inspired.

“You look pretty damn adequate yourself,” she murmured after kissing his cheek. A dark, lustful look darkened her eyes as she looked him over again. “An all black suit makes you look devastating.”

He chuckled again, not betraying the chill her words sent through him.

“You even matched your pocket square with my dress.” Her fingers skimmed the gold fabric.

“Anything to please you.”

She raised a brow, intrigued. “I'll hold you to that.”

After kissing her until they were both panting for breath, they finally made their way out of the apartment. He could see her throwing furtive glances his way, her lip catching between her teeth occasionally. It was driving him crazy.

“A picture will last longer,” he teased as they waited for the elevator.

Lilac smiled at him, without any shame at being caught. “It's not my fault my boyfriend is so unfairly hot.”

Fuck.

Ethan was entirely weak-willed for her on a regular day. The raspy little drop of her voice and the way her eyes drank him in, insatiable, vanquished the last of his rationality.

Without missing a beat, he kissed her in the empty hallway, his hands hungrily sliding everywhere they could touch, the sequin of her dress pleasantly rough against his skin. When the elevator announced its arrival, Ethan backed her inside without breaking the kiss. Lips at her neck, he pressed the lobby button.

Lilac, however, had other ideas for she broke away from him. Face flushed and lips swollen from his kiss, she stepped backward to the control panel. Before he realized what she was doing, she cast him a wicked grin and slammed on the “Emergency Stop” button.

The elevator cart jolted to a stop somewhere between the tenth and ninth floors.

“Lilac, what are you–”

“Shhh,” she said as she sauntered towards him with the sexiest sway of her hips. “It's my turn.”

The heady whisper awoke every inch of him instantly.

“Here?”

She was pressed against him already, a crimson fingernail tracing his chest in a deliberate line. “We can stop,” she offered in a would be innocent whisper.

“No,” he replied much quicker than he would have liked.

A languid kiss against his jaw gave way to a hot whisper in his ear. “Good answer.”

The effect was immediate. His erection strained insistently against his pants, desperate for her attention.

“Fuck, Lilac,” he growled, his hands guiding her to one corner of the elevator by the hips. Too impatient to adore only one part of her immaculate body, they moved to her sides, fingers soon skimming the exposed skin of her neckline. He reached the swell of her breasts, eager to cast the fabric of her dress aside.

“No,” she informed him, placing a hand over his to halt him. “I told you it's my turn. Your only job is to follow directions.”

The assertiveness behind the words had to be the most erotic thing he had ever heard. The wholly immoral way she looked at him, eyes hooded and dark, didn't help his case either. With a lustful smirk of his own, he said, “Tell me what to do, Allende.”

“Against the wall,” she commanded with ease. The intoxicating scent of her perfume enveloped him in the small space. “And hands to yourself.”

Ethan complied with the first but found the second was much more difficult to obey, particularly when her teeth grazed softly at the column of his neck. As her fingers worked on the buttons of his shirt, her crimson lips closely followed, pressing searing kisses on the newly exposed skin of his chest. When she reached the last button, her long fingernails raked against his abs, the muscles straining against her touch.

“Mmm,” she hummed against the skin right above his waistband, tongue tracing the hard plane of his stomach. She was kneeling before him, eyes glancing up at him through dark lashes.

Ethan was hard as a rock already, throbbing painfully for her touch. He felt his back press against the cold wall of the elevator, breath catching at his throat, the ache to touch her almost painful. When her hands finally moved to grip him through his trousers, he let out a low, harsh groan from deep in his throat.

“Like that?” she asked, unrestrained need evident in her voice too.

A growl was the only response he could offer.

Too soon, Lilac stopped her ministrations. Before he could lament the loss of her touch, however, she worked the button of his pants, then the zipper, roughly pulling down enough of the fabric of his boxer briefs. When she finally released him, she moaned in response, as she always did at the sight of him, the sound making him grow impossibly harder.

Lilac wasted no time in stroking him, her grip expertly moving along the hilt.

“Fuck.” His curse was a heady hiss that fueled her enthusiasm.

Soon, her movements slowed until they ceased altogether. The disappointment must have been obvious in his face because she smiled deviously up at him.

“I want you in my mouth,” she all but moaned up at him.

His cock twitched.

“Do you want that too, Ramsey?”

“Yes.”

“How badly?”

“Very.”

Single word answers were all he could manage in his current state. Incredible how she could reduce an articulate man with years of higher education to an incoherent mess.

Satisfied, she wrapped her lips around the tip, making his hips buck slightly. Her responding little hum vibrated through his length.

“Lilac,” he hissed.

The single word was all the fuel she needed. Eyes locked on his, she took him fully in her mouth, her lips sliding studiously down the length. Her movements started slow and measured at first, her hands working what her mouth couldn't reach. Determined to kill him, it seemed, she added her tongue to her movements. His hips jerked against her mouth in response.

“Fuck, you're so good at that,” he praised in a dark, hushed whisper as his hands lost themselves in her hair. As if to further prove that point, she expertly took more of him in her mouth without incident. Ethan closed his eyes against the ecstasy, one hand guiding her forward and the other clinging to the railing.

When her speed picked up, Ethan let out another harsh, low moan, his head falling back against the cold elevator wall. In his haze, he glanced down, watching her work. The sight was enough to bring him dangerously close.

Very gently, he eased her away.

“Not yet,” he said raggedly.

Understanding crossed her features. With one last torturous flick of her tongue, she released him, rising to her feet.

Her swollen lips found his neck again. Moving up to his ear, she whispered her next command, “Pin me against the wall and fuck me, Ethan.”

Christ.

Proper words failed him.

Then again, there was nothing proper about the way his hands desperately bunched up the fabric of her dress. In one powerful movement, he hoisted her up against the metal railing of the elevator, her legs clasping around his waist.

Wasting little time, he reached between them to unceremoniously push the lace of her thong aside for the second time that evening. He stroked himself briefly against her clit, earning a strangled moan from her that crushed the last of his control. Seconds after, he guided himself into her, sinking into her welcoming body inch by agonizing inch.

“Ethan,” she moaned as he moved, her hands clinging to his shoulders like a lifeline, the heat of her breath a caress.

Her body clenched around him from all sides, plunging him into divine delirium. “You're so tight,” he managed. “I love the way you feel when you clench your little–”

His words cut off abruptly when the small speaker box in the control panel crackled to life. They both froze at once.

“Hello? Anybody in there?” a voice asked amidst the static. He recognized it as belonging to the building's foreman.

Ethan cast a questioning glance at Lilac, still balanced in his arms. To his surprise, she seemed unfazed, leaning in to whisper, “Good luck talking.”

Ethan had no time to question the strange words because she leaned in to kiss his neck, tongue and teeth tormenting him as she worked.

Hearing no reply, the foreman tried again, “We got an alert that the elevator stopped.”

“We're here,” Ethan rasped to the speaker. Taking a moment to collect himself to no avail, he mustered, “Two of us.”

“Are you both okay?”

Ethan wasn't entirely sure how to answer that for himself because Lilac chose that precise moment to clench impossibly tighter around him. That, plus the filthy nothings she was whispering in his ear reduced Ethan to an incoherent mess.

“Fine.”

It was a miracle he managed to get the single word out.

“Good to hear. We'll get you folks outta there in about ten minutes. Hang tight.”

After he was certain the speaker was off, Ethan turned to her. “You're terrible. ”

“Then punish me,” she moaned, moving her hips against his to encourage movement again.

He didn't have to be told twice, resuming his thrust with renewed vigor.

“Yes,” she gasped as he pumped into her, throwing her head back against the wall. “Ethan, make me–”

Her voice broke off into a poorly stifled whimper, her nails clutching the hair at the back of his neck.

“Make you what, Rookie?”

“Make me cum,” she moaned, her walls quivering around him.

Ethan cursed, his head falling to her shoulder, intoxicated by her scent and feeling himself close. The pace of his strokes became ruthless, just like she begged. Briefly, he wondered if anyone could hear the sounds their bodies made as they clashed or their strangled cries.

“Oh God, Ethan,” Lilac cried out, nails digging into his back as she climaxed. “Fu-ck.”

Ethan continued to move, bringing her back down from her high. When he couldn't resist any longer, he gave one final thrust and finished too, his muscles tensing and relaxing.

They remained like that, until they caught their breaths. Gently, he helped her off the railing.

“Do you think we missed our reservation?” Lilac asked with little concern as she fixed the front of her dress.

Ethan smiled lazily at her as he buttoned his shirt. “Almost certainly,” he said, finding he didn't care. “Do you just want to go back to the apartment? We can watch that unsolved show you love so much.”

Lilac laughed, delighted. “You love it too,” she pointed out, moving forward to help him with the last button. “You get to solve more mysteries on your time off like the nerd you are.”

Ethan tried to look unamused but her effect was entirely too irresistible.

“I'd love to, by the way,” she added. Thinking of something, she scrunched up her nose. “Did you ever think formally dating me would be so boring?”

At that, he had to laugh. “You just stopped an elevator to have sex with me. I'd hardly call that boring.”

___________

Author’s Note:

I... yeah.

Remember when I wrote my smut last fic, I said the next one would be Ethan receiving? Here it is.

Ethan during this:

Inspired by those SPOILER outfits (click at your own discretion) someone posted a while ago. MC’s dress is called “Date Night” and that’s where this idea came from. I can’t wait to see how they use that outfit in the book, but in the meantime...

Also, MC makes him watch Buzzfeed Unsolved lol

___________

#open heart #ethan x mc #ethan ramsey #My writing #plase work i am begging you tumblr #ethan ramsey fanfiction #Ethan ramsey x mc #dr. ethan ramsey #open heart fanfiction #choices fanfiction

312 notes · View notes