#born an outcast. not even your family understands you. maybe your family even hates you for what you are.

[three-plums]

i forgot how many x-men adaptations there are and how many of them are bad LMAO

[gor3sigil]

About being a freak, queer, trans etc.

In all the years I've spent going back and forth with my gender, being sure one day and unsure the next about how I wanted to present, if I wanted to be more fem or masc, if I wanted to be neither of them, there's one thing that I never wished: I never wished to be born cis.

There's something so magical in being trans. To me it's like a never ending childlike wonder of myself and others. I see my body as a white canvas I can do anything with and as a playground for me to explore and find secrets at every turn. It's shedding so many times that I had hundreds of silhouettes and I'm not even 30. It's seeing the most deepest and honest smiles when you hang out with your peers, and they're fully themselves and you are fully yourself even if it's just for one moment.

Being trans is being more naked than ever. My understanding of my own flesh at its core like I'm dissecting it once a year is so whole and complete. Noticing the patterns, the intricate map of my skin, how it grows and stretch with every change even well before HRT as I was practicing new poses and expressions and clothes.

I don't see myself as a flower, I see myself as a whole garden, with bees and critters everywhere, bursting with life in the warmth of the sun under a sky as blue as the cleanest seas.

Regarding the way others see me, mind you, I always was, and I mean ALWAYS, all my life, seen as a freak.

Try to picture this, even tnough you maybe can because this is the story of a whole bunch of us: growing up as a goth, queer and undiagnosed autistic girl, in a little shitty town, the last child of a family of disabled and neurodivergent folks that everyone saw as a family of, well, freaks. The teachers at school knew your brother who was bullied, and your sister who always caused troubles. They don’t know which of these paths you’re going to take but they sure as hell don’t like you. And the only other queer kids you know are a couple of girls who’d chugg down vodka before class in middle school because they were not accepted at home and bullied during recess.

My first queer relationship, also in middle school, was the typical “I loved her to the moon and back but she only wanted to experiment” and it tore down my soul. It took me years to recover from this. I think that, apart from my longest relationship to date, I never put that much of myself into someone I loved. But she was just goofing around and I mean, fair, we were kids, but man did it hurt. I resented her for years after. Now I just hope she’s happy and doing the job she always dreamed of doing.

Anyways, all that to say that I was used to being seen as an outcast. I hated that for years and tried and tried again and again to fit in. It doesn’t work. Because this in not the answer. Remember when I said that my family members were always all disabled ? My father espacially was physically disabled (and probably also autistic but undiagnosed), and he’s still to this day one of the most ableist person I’ve ever met. He knew his kids weren’t “normal”. He fought tooth and nails for us to fit in. Because that’s how he survived. But despite it all, it never worked. Because you can’t force your way into society’s standards.

I never felt more free than when I just gave up trying to. If I was going to be seen as weird anyways, might as well go all the way. Dress as I please, date who I wanted (another story for another time but it didn’t go as planned), enjoy the shit I enjoyed, unapologetically. And guess what ? It stopped the bullying. Because I gained confidence in myself and most of all, pride. I grew proud of being an outcast, so much so that people just started to be like “well, they’re like that anyways” and left me the fuck alone.

I’m rambling lmao but I think it’s important to be aware that nobody will live your life for you. Being your weird self, it’s so hard, butn so rewarding. More rewarding than anything. You’ll start making new relationships based on you TRUE self, you’ll go all the way for your passions, and trust me, you’ll be more free than anyone who bent themselves to fit in the mold and still need to painfully stretch their limbs everyday to keep the act on.

I know that sometimes it’s something you have to do to survive, and that’s perfectly okay. But don’t forget to keep your true self close and to let them out from time to time, okay ? Water down your inner garden. That’s the only way you will truly live.

[bitter-panacea]

Goultard's accidental queer coding

(And, incidentally, why I headcanon Goultard as transfem/not cis)

Disclaimer : i say goultard's queer coding is accidental because i really dont believe that gou was intended to be read as queer when tot wrote him. Nonetheless, the subtext is still present and i believe any queer person would assume goultard to be somewhat queer while reading the manga. Interpretation can be different from intention. Also, and this applies to most of what i post, i share my personal analysis and interpretation and everyone is free to have their own.

(I got lazy and don't want to format this post properly, so this mess is what you get lol)

Pariah to hero.

Goultard was an outcast since he was born. A very common trope in queer coding.

After he proves himself worthy by showing he can be of use to the village. He's respected, adored, almost worshipped. But only as long as he fulfills the narrow role people want and expect from him. He's rejected and insulted as soon as he doesn't fit into this role.

Strict traditional masculine gender roles are forced on him. The protector. Stronger than any opponent, stronger than himself and his emotions...

I also think of his condition of being a son of iop, this sword of damocles hanging over his head, as a nature that is imposed onto him over and over again when he didnt choose it and doesnt want it. Being a warrior is supposedly in his blood its what hes good at and therefore should do, settling down and having a family is supposedly contrary to this nature. Even though its what makes him the happiest.

I wonder if traditional gender roles vary from one class to another. Is there any specificity between iop men and iop women. If iop men are by default considered more iop than iop women. Is feminity synonym with weakness for iops. Must a iop woman choose to never settle down and stay a real iop or abandon her warrior status/her iopness to raise offspring at home while the iop men can keep fighting. Maybe class affects the form sexism takes.

Ive joked about gou being in a polycule with three outcast witches being proof he isnt cishet and that the three of them were waiting for gou to figure his shit out... kinda real

After being possessed by the symbiote,

(Which can also be seen as him failing at his role of protector, failing to protect his family. He blames himself for it) the way he's rejected, dehumanized, called a monster, a creature, specifically not a man, and at the same time mocked, can be very reminiscent of queer phobia.

His relationship with the symbiote is reffered as them being a couple and compared to a romantic/sexual relationship.

It feels to me like, while gou was possessed, and shortly after, he could allow himself to step out of that preconceived idea of masculinity that comes with being a "hero", and indulge in the gray areas. Not a human or a demon, not a god or a mortal, not a man or a woman. While still having deeply internalized cisheteronormativity, grasping for some "normality" whenever he's faced with someone else's opinion of him. Needing to justify and prove he is not queer, prove he's man enough, prove he isnt weak, like he needs to convince himself as well as everyone else. Hating the subject but bringing it up unprompted. Always overcompensating.

There is something reminiscent of being in a queer relationship for the first time and it happens to be incredibly abusive. You might feel like the abuse is worth it if it means being allowed to be more authentically yourself, you tell yourself your abuser understands you and loves you for who you really are even if they hurt you, and the queerness of the relationship isolates you, making it impossible for you to get help to leave said relationship.

But much later, when his reputation got better (how much did he have to do with it, how much of his reputation is what he carefuly built it to be) and he had to take his father's power and become the new iop god, the pressure to act a specific way, to fit into this box, would have come back. The whole "iops dont cry" thing with gou denying and hiding his emotions in wakfu.

He's often reduced to that image of the unbeatable warrior, the ideal masculinity, the very definition of what a iop should be... what he thinks he should be.

He gets enraged at his fans for essentially worshipping a fake idealized and shallow version of him, making money off of his image and reputation, but rejecting him as a person, his humanity. They dont want to know who he truly is. He wants to be respected for his heroic actions, not because of this fake idealized vision people have of him.

(isnt it fucking hilarious that this is exactly what wakfu and a lot of the fandom does to him too sorry I'll stop being a hater).

Goultard's reputation and how he feels about it is a fascinating subject. Very confusing but thats because he is himself confused about what he wants it to be, but it sure is extremely important to him.

In the end, goultard recognizes the only people who knew and understood him are dead.

His emotions are seen as unmasculine and ridiculous because theyre too intense (seen as hysteric, too sensitive) Vil smisse says he's "worse than a chick". They say he has his mother's character whos literally named cabotine (hysteric).

He sees himself as a poet, someone sentimental, complains that people don't see it, don't recognize it, can't/don't understand this part of him. Kills an entire village because they didnt appreciate this part of him (a little excessive maybe lmao)

The way he presents, wears dresses as a child, skirts later in life, long hair with accessories... not necessarily effeminate but kinda androgynous hes gnc af or whatever. (I dont know what other people think but he always looks super androgynous to me, except in wakfu) Hes very goth looking in the manga which is also queercoded in itself.

His entire relationship with arty like come on.

People call him a homo and assume hes a homo thats pretty queer coded to me lol

Even the text makes fun of him for being the way he is. Hes often shown to be sort of a ridiculous person. Its not just the other characters who think that. They dont really expect you as a reader to sympathize with gou for being ridiculed. There are a few moments that feel gratuitously sadistic towards gou.

Arty also gets disrespected/has homophobia directed at him but always in relation to gou

(People assume arty's queer BECAUSE he's with gou), gou is disrespected/has homophobia directed at him way more and not always because of his relationship with arty (people assume gou's queer because he looks and acts in ways that make people think hes queer)

The whole thing with arty being a dragon is pretty queer coded too, discovering his true nature and being rejected for it, learning to accept himself etc...

But its such a classic trope it also fits other interpretations. Im thinking notably about growing up mixed, hes rejected for not being "human" enough but also not "dragon" enough, too much like a "human" or too much like a "dragon" having trouble figuring out his identity and accepting it, he inherits a long, complex and painful history from one side of his origins, fights to be seen as legitimate by the other dragons, very steven universe-esque.

And it's just very much coming-of-agey in general. His body changing and having new confusing emotions that he struggles to control. Facing new responsibilities. Kind of spiderman like. They do make a little joke about artys adoptive grandpa crail being like his version of uncle ben. So its also a metaphor for growing up in general.

[marymary-diva17]

The outcast twins

Lo'ak x twin sister reader + sully family/ tsutey x Jake x neytiri

content : lo'ak x twin sister, Jake sully x daughter reader. and twin navi kids, broken family and marriage, family problems, trouble fitting in at home and life

When Jake had started a life with his mates neytiri and tsutey, he was happy when they started making a family of their own. Children had came into their family making the couple happy, but soon something had changed the family and clan. The birth if twins that had inherited their father human DNA, the brith of twins was rare on pandora so this brith had changed everything. A boy and girl that been born that day, as the clan was shocked about their brith and looks. As. most of the clan and human celebrated the brith of twins not the rest of the clan will welcome the twins, with open arms and that will soon make life difficult for the twins, Being expect by the human and half way welcome by navi.

Y/n " ......." you had woken up as the sun had started shining on your face, you soon rolled out of the hammock and soon left your shared bedroom.

y/n " mom and father are gone" you were looking for neytiri and tsutey but it seems like they were gone, even your sister was gone.

y/n " wait I remembered we are going to the gathering of the clans, yes this is going to amazing day with celebration and talking"

????? ' hey sis" you soon looked up and saw lo'ak leaving his room that he shared as well.

lo'ak " hey where is everyone"

y/n " I think we are late or they are getting ready to leave come on if we hurry now we can caught up"

???? " it seems like you two are up" you and lo'ak looked to see your guys dad leaving the room he shared with your guys mom and father.

y/n " hey dad we have to hurry we can't keep everyone waiting"

Jake " hey kids plans had changed at the last minute" you and lo'ak had looked at Jake waiting for what he had to say.

Jake " I'm sorry kids but it seems like we were not invited to the gathering this year"

lo'ak " but father we are the children of the olo'eythan and grandkids of the tshaik shouldn't we been invited as well"

Jake " well you father and mom were speaking with me last night, and it seems like the other clan leaders are not like the idea of any humans being at the meeting right now"

y/n " dad"

Jake " I'm sorry kids but you have more sky people blood from me so the avatar have been told to stay behind as well, people are still not trusting of us"

lo'ak " we understand dad"

Jake " kids I'm sorry for what is happening it all my fault I should of know any of my kids will inherit anything from me"

y/n " dad it okay we understand" you and lo'ak had become well know of the hate that some of the clan and other navi had for you both, even your father as well thinking he used some evil magic to win over tsu'tey and Neytiri.

lo'ak " we can go to the next gathering of the clans maybe or no it doesn't matter anymore"

y/n " lo'ak"

lo'ak " it okay sis we have to understand not everyone will love us not even mom and dad"

Jake "your mom and dad love you"

lo'ak " sure dad they love us not to fight for us to come and just go to the gathering without saying anything to either me or y/n, and only you they even didn't bother saying goodbye"

Jake " oh son"

lo'ak " I know I can't call myself the son of olo'eythan tsutey as I don't look like him or act like him .... I'm not his son I don't know if he even cares about me"

Jake " he does care about you and your sister"

y/n " then why has he failed to keep artust from insult us"

Jake " when did you start calling her artust"

lo'ak " after she told us she will never accept the demon child of demon man as her grandchildren, as we are soon to be evil like you" Jake knew the twins had faced hardships from other clan kids and adults, as they were seen lesser then everyone else kid.

y/n " I heard the elders talking and they were going to speak with father and grandmother about taking away my rights, to be tshaik as none of them think I will be good and giving it to tuk, kiri, or neteyam future mate as everyone thinks they are better then me"

Jake " oh honey I wont let that happen"

y/n " dad we have no control you were once toruk makto you lead te clan to victory against the RDA and help win the battle, but all the credit now goes to father and mom"

Jake " I know I know honey" Jake had brought his daughter into a hug, the treatment that was going on was not getting to all three of them and it was hard to fight back at times.

Jake " hey why don't we have a day together all three of us" you and lo'ak looked at him and smiled soon nodding your heads in agreement. Soon the father and twins had left the home and village following their father.

lo'ak " dad why have your brought us here" Jake had brought the kids towards the waterfall where he jump for his life, many years ago.

Jake " well this is where I ran for my life from a Thanator"

lo'ak " cool"

y/n " dad will we be safe here"

Jake " we will be good sweetie now come along it will be fun" you soon nodded your head and went after Jake and lo'ak. The day was filled with fun was Jake and had made sure to give enough attention to his twins as he knew everything that home was not good.

y/n " dad can I ask you a question"

Jake " sure honey"

y/n " do mom and father still love me or us" Jake had looked at you and soon looked at lo'ak.

Jake " why are you asking this honey"

y/n " well mom and father don't seem to spend that much of time with us, like they do with everyone else at home it seems like there some distance between us and them"

Jake " oh honey your mom and father still love you two"

lo'ak " what about you dad they are always spending time together and we all seen and hear you three fight"

Jake " you kids have heard and seen us fight"

y/n " yes so has neteyam and kiri while tuk has seen some of it but not most of it" Jake soon sighed he really didn't want his kids witness the problems of his marriage, he had seen that in his young life on earth and he didn't wish for that to happen to his kids.

lo'ak " dad is everything okay" Jake soon pulled the twins towards him and looked at them, he was trying his best right now but he knew sooner or later the kids will see the truth.

Jake " look kids I still love you mom and father they are my whole world, and sometimes couples fight when things are not going well"

lo'ak " dad"

Jake " look there might be some changes that are coming to our family, and I don't want to lie to your kids anymore .... your mom and father are having this conversation with your other siblings as well"

y/n " so are we not going to be family anymore"

Jake " no we are going to always be a family sweetie but a different type of family"

y/n " are you separating from mom and father like you told us, that happen on earth"

Jake " I don't know kids I don't know you mom and father have asked for some space between me and them .... and it seems like I might have to be living somewhere else"

lo'ak " then we will come with you dad"

Jake " kids I can't ask you both to do that it won't be right dad"

y/n " dad without you nothing will be the same at home, and life at the village wont be good as well" Jake had looked the twins soon bringing them into a hug, the family of three were comforting each other over the changes that will be falling upon the family soon. Jake had a feeling matters will never be the same between the twins, and the rest of the sully family if they could keep calling themselves the sully family.

Jake " no matter what happens we will always stay a family even due we might be apart"

y/n " yes dad"

lo'ak " yes sir" Jake soon brought you and Jake into a another hug he couldn't tell what will be happening in the future for anyone on this family, but he was hoping the family he made here will stay a family forever. while soon the result everyone was not hoping for will soon become true, and soon everyone will have to accept the change that had fallen upon the family. Soon more changes will fallen upon the family that will effect the children, and soon enough the once old sully family will never be the same.

[neptunes-sol-angel]

I've been itching to get this one out but I've been so busy lately, but finally here it is. Enjoy ♡

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🕸 Pile One 🕸

Your energy reminds me a lot of Enid Sinclair.

Everything about you screams "if there isn't a lane for me, then I'll create it"—what sticks out the most, are your physical features, they could be extremely unique but you aren't alienated for having them, you're alienated for the way that you flaunt them. Your beauty is both eloquently charming and ravagely seductive that demands to be seen and not hidden for anyone. The way that you choose boldness instead of demurity, can be threatening to others because their validation crutches on what's already acceptable, when they see you thrive beyond these boundaries of normalcy, it only makes them feel like they have to step it up. Your creatively outgoing and talented nature could be seen "extra" which could make others want to knock you down a peg. You're both emotionally mature and pleasing to be around, I feel like your affection and positivity is too strong to resist for a lot of people, and you also know how to communicate or influence others how to communicate properly. You could be considered a late bloomer, but understand that you move at your own pace, even when you're alone, you still know how to be and have a good time, and despite others trying to exclude in some way, you don't project that onto others—you're very compassionate until someone crosses the line, you're protective, relatable (when others get to know you better), and an open and safe space for those who feel alone or like they can't fit in.

🕸 Pile Two 🕸

Your energy reminds me of Wednesday Addams.

You're the family outcast. The black sheep that actually acts and scarily resembles an ancestor (matriarch) in your family. Maybe you were the only prodigy in your family, or the one that's ridiculed the most despite your accomplishments and expertise. You could be unconsciously walking in their footsteps to finish something that they didn't when they were living, or actively working with them through mediumship. You could be the only one in your family at the moment who either utilizes their psychic gifts as well as practice the occult or stepped away from a religion you were born and raised in. You're most likely to be an outcast for not accepting advancement in a relationship with others right away. You'll usually never need another person's approval because you tend to assume dominant roles that actually makes people seek you for approval. You're unintentionally funny, maybe you're a master at dry humor. People hate you and love you at the same time because of how mentally stimulating you are. Despite not being accepted in groups, you lure people in one by one because they see you as a challenge that they'll most likely lose but will still take their chances anyway. You could be deemed spooky, but in an ethereal way. Your effortless mystique could be mimicked by many who both despise and crave what you have.

🕸 Pile Three 🕸

Your energy reminds me of Larissa Weems.

You could have multiple different aesthetics, taste in art, and quirks in your personality which could make you appear as a shape-shifter to some but a deceiver to others. You could be a pacifist or the main mediator in a space filled with those who choose the opposite way of getting justice, especially when it comes to violence. You could be accused of being boujee by how luxurious you appear. I feel like you're accused of many different things by people's illusions of who you really are, like you could be accused of being promiscuous because of appearance, body, or personality—And you could also be accused of being a thief by those who lost to you in some way, like in a competition, a crush that ended up being attracted to you, a position, or any other opportunity that they feel like should've been theirs. You have a lot of range; you could be flexible literally, or flexible when it comes to your voice in singing. I'm also getting that if you play many instruments, you're great improvising different pieces and could have a beautiful ear for composing music. People could feel offended by the way you choose yourself first, or how modest you are, they could again accuse you of trying to protect your image or feel that you think you're better than them.

🕸 Pile Four 🕸

Your energy reminds me of Bianca Barclay.

People outcast you because of the way that you convey your emotions. If you show too little, they assume you're cold. If you show too much or make them feel too much, then they assume you're being manipulative. You're an outcast because you reveal to others what their weak spots are, the parts that they refuse to accept, look at, or feel that they lack in, even when you're not trying to insult them. You could expose others' need for perfection, gratitude, validation, or even comfort. Another reason why people outcast you, is your autonomy and your embrace for the traits that make you mesmerizing. To expand more about your autonomy that really riles people up, is how you have control over how you choose to perceive and represent yourself. Another person's perception of you holds no weight over your goals, wishes, and determination. Despite those who resist your calming aura, your charisma is something powerful too, your ability to convince others to not only be their authentic selves (the good and the bad) but the absolute best that they can be. People's rejection over you stem mainly from what they can't differentiate from fantasy and truth, you could have an elfin face that can put people in a daze, and the delivery of your speech could also put others in a trance as well.

[vivianbernadetteaurora]

Heroin addiction hello,

this is me my name is heroin, I am more expensive than gold, but you will pay more for me. I’m like a diamond you want me you you wanna wear me you wanna wear me all over your body you wanna be me you wanna be inside my body, you want me to take the pain away like a hug like a hug used to do like a kiss like being in love used to, my name is Cherry and I’m a heroin addict I’m not some 12 stepper I kind of wish I was so I kind of wish I didn’t get the vibe that it was a cult , but maybe it is but who said all Colts are bad well this person right here was see. I’m also autistic I have a strong time of the past, I’ll tell you what this addiction has taken everything away from me. Let’s go back and let’s go back to 10 years ago. Roughly let’s go to the 3rd of December 2012 when I met this man who to this day, I can’t get out of my head see this man🕰️ introduced me to this awful awful thing, but at the same time he kept me away distance control. Yes I get it on the first night I met this man me off my feet. I was telling him about my situation ship and he was very compassionate. He was very understanding and it sort of Started there and went on the next five years, I was hooked line and sinker .

So the first night I met this man he was with my friend I met with, and I can still tell you everything about it that night it had to be one of the best nights of my life as I sit here now with tears in my eyes, five years later, I remembering things when I write, I wanted to be writer when I write I want to I remember And I started my life story again I’ve been with him for awhile see you inspired me be a bad person being with me and made me wanna be better and we had this little secret but let’s go back to the question because I’m very good at track no drugs happened it was just drinking Maybe smoking weed because I did back then but I was just talking it was like talking to someone I’d know my whole life and when you’re autistic this doesn’t happen often I hadn’t been diagnosed then but he had both bonded over the fact that we both had personality disorders and that we didn’t fit into society boxes, but now as I see it, I see it. I do but This man had a complete control over me. He had literally just had a baby with somebody who he’d been with for 10 years. He told me it was over, but yet they just had a baby a month prior premature, I didn’t want to take this woman’s man I didn’t want to take away this father, so I said don’t chase me, so on the days that he saw his child up at the hospital still, he would come back really quickly like he hadn’t even been there at all. I know that he had a premature baby. Yes I do I don’t know the whole truth of it I never will Until years though, when I spoke to his ex and I still don’t know the whole truth and why the fuck should she have to tell me anyway but all night he painted her is a villain same as I did with my ex yes as a personality disorder, everyone else is a bad guy You never the bad guy until it all comes tumbling down and you hate yourself and you wanna cut yourself or burn yourself so I trigger on this post but I have to say this I have to be honest with myself I must’ve liked it the fact that my family my family was born into because I don’t have kids that’s another sad part of this story is, I can’t Maybe it’s sick but there you go. They treat this man as an outcast just as much as I treated me as an outcast. I feel he wasn’t allowed to my sisters birthday party even though my sister was married to a literal word rapist still in prison for it now, and all the other sick things he did And my ex or right through this, of course I’ve noticed can also see crazy people who are crazy can always see crazy and others. Neurotypical are very selfish people. The first time I met him. He didn’t use her when he told me about it. apparently he told me about it and anyway I told him not to choose me over his child. Anyway he did we were texting all the time I was texting him. He was writing me love i never had this in my entire life. He literally swept me off my feet and the good thing that happened at the beginning of our relationship was that I went away for a week two days after we met Which made me want him more and vice versa now he probably did stuff I’ve heard he might of he’s married now to this girl. He slagged off for years and shagged. The sister who is 17 when we were together together what we broke up we didn’t properly broke up, but we broke up This is where the comes in we’re living in accommodated living for people who are not very well addicts mentally ill and so on. Anyway, many of the nights I would sneak into his room through the window or he sneak into mine and would lie bad faith, even if there was cameras. Oh he hasn’t asked your random stuff like this and I’ll be like it has. I’ve gone to bed, and obviously it was the most exciting time of my life. I was 23 years 22 years old and absolutely in love. Yes I know they got married at the age of 17 but it wasn’t part. Of course it was in my res autistic and everything was always more dramatic. The next time I’m bigger and better also I thought crazy so we end up getting kicked out of this facility I live there for a year I hadn’t really stayed there. I’d stayed in my mum, still even though she di

So things got out of hand that I’ve got made homeless I’m looking back now I thought it was so unfair and at the time I thought it was unfair. People who got made homeless shouldn’t have got made home as really people who this is all they had and the man I’m with now With living in the shed house with my ex there is four of the houses two of them staffed two of them not! so my partner was in a house without staff and then got put into the room next to me in the staff house which I was in me and my partner and I said maybe it was a distraction from my ex and his past, I will never know the full extent of.

So heroin heroin you ask how did it come into it well slowly that’s what I’ll say slowly he came back one day in a really really bad mood. This is before we got kicked out and started smoking on the bed. I’ve never been a situation I’ve been around hard before and it made me very uncomfortable, especially because I hadn’t touched them so I felt embarrassed and obliged this time I didn’t. I felt safe I felt safe with him. I just did so here it goes we move out and by this point before I go with him I will say I was addicted to sleeping pills on and off and opiates pill, but only pills so I sort of being there, but I wasn’t in the world of dealers drug addicts, horrible people debt, losing friends, and emotionally and because of the addiction. No nothing was that bad yet was destined for this maybe probably who knows I don’t I don’t even know so I will never forget the day I did it because it made life, so like it made sense for the first time in my life. It just made sense everything fit into place. Everything was like this is what it’s meant to be and this is how I should feel it wasn’t overwhelming how I thought it was meant to be, and this is how it traps you guys so don’t do it, it just felt like I had found the key to a door that had been locked 22 years and I had found that key. Obviously not a drug use. very narcissistic you really don’t think it’s gonna be you you just don’t you don’t think it’s going to be you in 1 million years even when you told me all these things via my ex when he told me this is what it’s like. I’m depressed now I can’t feel without it sex drive it fuck it fuck the way you connect with people you lose that connection and when you’re autistic anyway that is hard to have by the beginning it makes that all possible it makes you have emotion it makes you connect it makes you feel like you are invincible, and I always thought the word heroine became from the hero within, it kind of makes sense, wouldn’t it.

So the first time I used it, I smoked it we were living in one of his friends house in the spare bedroom that was freezing cold and the guy was addicted to it. The wife wasn’t they had two children. They had three children but the two children were in the room next to the dad, who is addicted really bad day and ill And this was the first place I used it they thought I was just normal. They didn’t think I touched so when I asked to try it one time when I got kicked off Valium which as you know it’s not very good I’ve got put on after a bad experience. Grape grape by my ex, and it was a short term thing, but I felt awful and I was hallucinating and I was in a really weird way and I also still appealed from my other exes house which led me to be really drooling and off my head and not remembering things in this house anyway, so that’s where I first tried it and for that year when we were living from house to house of people and Sophie spare rooms whatever, was the most exciting time of my life. It was an adventure that I’ve never been in. It was some kind of life experience that I needed for that time, but it led to this really scary time that I live in now so would I take it back? I’m not too sure i’ll lose all these memories, but then I won’t be attached to it so much either. Yeah I’d probably take it because the people I know now I really don’t wanna know I’m telling you something, there’s a lot of really dodgy men in this world who will try and proposition you for sex for money or they will try and do things to you the amount of times I’ve had men do things to me that dodgy sexually, I can’t even fathom it’s very sad, no one should have to go through that. made me feel so protected from the heroin all of it the relationship with that felt amazing, We lived from moment to moment we bonded so deeply our moon 🌙 signs very compatible. we shared everything let’s say so in the five years 2 1/2 of them are good 2 1/2 of them really bad but let’s say this was really severe case of grooming two that felt good though it felt really good because it came with the drugs and it came with the reward system that your brain creates of Doberman, but after a while your break your brain needs a pleasure and reward centre to survive. It’s like breathing it felt amazing. I felt so good every time I felt so good he he controlled my habits so I didn’t get too bad so I would get high probably off. Let’s say £10 worthb or £20 worth a day, maybe less let’s say less.

Eventually, my family obviously found out because I’m a very honest person and I like why did you say that I’ve noticed addicts are very dishonest people, scum of the Earth and I can’t stand them and they can’t stand me either. They do not like me and I think my ex knew this about them that they wouldn’t like me because he did all the messaging and calls to these people I didn’t know these people were so uptight about a text message, but they are absolutely ridiculous, I wasn’t used to this level of paranoia unless it was in your mind none of these people give a shit about you. I’m talking as 33-year-old me now and not 22-year-old man. It’s been over 10 years can you believe it because I can I mean it could be another lifetime ago and it could be yesterday 22-year-old didn’t know about this. Didn’t know this rule it’s uptight don’t do that and I honestly I hate these people honestly I’m miserable it’s not good for me I’m constantly sad,😔 yeah I mean the end of last year I going to join this astrology course and I have a teacher now at this woman I listen to for years on YouTube who I love I love her way of teaching listening to her on YouTube she was so good at going into it all. I looked up with Darkside zodiac and I found her but anyway I’m gonna tell her I lost friends in my opinion, so basically when I was younger, I was a bit of a goody-goody so that transition into hard-core addict who thought she was Courtney Love and Kurt Cobain with her boyfriend was obviously a massive shock to my friends and family I’m guessing constantly asking for money this day,

They didn’t realise this world opened up, a whole box of things that made me feel better, but a whole shit load of a basement full of crap that came with it. They won’t so yeah, I was a goody goody I didn’t really drink. I didn’t do this I didn’t do that, but I was fun. I was a happy shy girl And I would join in and have a laugh with my friends we would get the stone high part when I used to bring school in into school my sister’s part into my friend and he smoked I didn’t even smoke. Then I didn’t even feel the pressure to smoke. So yeah this was a massive personality change I guess so I always went from group group I was always a bit of a drifter.! point of sticking a needle in my arm, I wasn’t bad in fact I was the opposite of a bad arse you could say but as he has went on things happened and you meet people, my best friend who I be my best friend from the age of 10 made her be my best friend until she agreed. She was my best friend from me from me, her being sick of me, trying to ask it probably so I made my first love through her years later 18 years old and he was just schizophrenic and I even got warned off him which was probably the right idea cause this is where my first mental break happened a few years after that so this is why is slowly threatened to do law, and my personality was really changing, and I guess it was very scary for the people around me, so I’d have relationships with people friends whatever, but it always felt forced with this man. It never felt forced. It felt natural, and he would convince me that these people wanted to hurt me, or they weren’t good enough for me or they for I wasn’t good enough for them. He was very clever very very very clever he had me believing all of this shit and so it still this day is in and I can’t get rid of and I think anyone who’s been in a abusive relationship will feel this.

I have put a lot of pressure on my family. I feel like I am loving girl but I don’t have a family like the rest of them all my sisters have children. My brother is happy in a relationship. He is with someone for 11 years and he was very very happy even though he’s my older brother he sometimes feels like my younger brother because he’s so more innocent and I was innocent like he was too Very similar. In fact he was more of a rebel than I was saying I think I wanted to rebel so badly because I never had the opportunity. I mean the first guy I slept with gave me herpes if you want to talk about bad luck, but I thought it was a bad ass then because I was going out of a guy from Bangladesh who was a Muslim who had a restaurant well he didn’t have the restaurant who I was fucking in his restaurant And I thought I was cool. I was getting free curries and then I went to the next shop up the road and it was a Turkish guy who had a gorgeous green eyes. I was obsessed with being in love and not with English man. I thought English men were trash they never fancied me in school. I never had boyfriends, and I lost my virginity at 16.

 so my friends now anyway, who I lost I’ve tried to bring back into my life but they’re not perfect either. I’m not saying they’re perfect but they weren’t drug Alex and we weren’t into people like that. They don’t know anything about people like that when I tell them about the things that have been degraded too, I’m in the last three years I didn’t leave my house because of a sexual assault kind of thing again And it’s very very scary so they couldn’t understand it or comprehend. They didn’t know why I was agitated. They didn’t know why I couldn’t meet up with them till sad times. They didn’t know why I didn’t pick up my phone they didn’t know why I called them at weird hours they didn’t understand it they didn’t understand why I wanted money they didn’t understand why I didn’t have this. They didn’t understand the people that knew I get it. I wish I didn’t even guys They see it though they see what happened, but then I did have one very abusive friend who is a Gemini and she would send me essays with you sometimes and this was before I got with Matt! she could still be very nasty I mean when I got her, she was like really rude about that and telling people I mean what kind of friend does that anyway so she comes and stay with me after a few years of me being with him and we have a nice time. Kind of have a good time, I’m still happy because I’m with him well I think I am anyway she comes down with fake note she was like can you use it cause she knew the olive. It was a bit backwards compared London I was like yeah probably be fine anyway one day we walked into town and I call her from upstairs from my exes flat and she looks horrified on that. Oh God here we go and she looked up annoyed anyway she’s there and a few days later, she’s all happy happy all on her phone and a good mood God. I wish I felt like her with making weed and I was being very paranoid and that’s when I stopped because I’d started smoking crack at this point because my ex couldn’t do heroin any more fuck from injecting and I hated cocaine. I just did it because he did it and he wanted me to owe him money. A lot of these drug addicts Connell is too so you owe the money I offend this. Well I’m too good for it and I know I’m so good for it and I wanna meet the other people who are not like this who are not con artists ! so she is high and she’s like don’t you feel so amazing I didn’t but I pretended yeah for great anyway she doodled all over this night and then she goes he go you can have it as she left to go home. I was like cheers can’t use it for shit now but thanks 🧑‍🎨.

Chapter 1

[braveclementine]

Chapter 9

Warnings: 18+readers only, smut, pet names, slight (could be considered) dubcon

Copyright: I do not own any Marvel characters or locations. However, I do own my OC: Elizabeth Y/L/N (created so you don't get Y/N and Y/S/N consistently mixed up. I do not condone any copying of this.

"WONDERFUL NEWS." YOU SAID AS YOU skipped into breakfast the next morning. You'd spent the night with Thor in a night of passionate love making. The fact that you could even skip was a miracle- your legs had been jelly last night.

"What is it?" Tony asked, looking up from his coffee. He looked like he hadn't gotten any sleep last night and if you were all being honest- he probably hadn't.

"I finally heard back from Elizabeth." You said, thinking back to last nights texts. You were frustrated with her for the late response considering you almost hadn't heard from her for a whole month! But the fact that you had finally gotten a reply was enough for the moment.

"Oh?" Sam asked, looking up at you now from his own coffee. "So when is she coming or when are we going?"

"She said that she'll come here." You said, feeling pleased with the prospect. You knew that she'd given in, in the end. As much as she hated the city- or perhaps pretended to you weren't sure- you knew she had to see the Big Apple at least once. "But she wants to give it another month. Our father wants to wait before fall harvest before that happens."

"That sounds reasonable." Steve nodded, but you couldn't help but hate the look of disappointment on Sam's face.

"It's okay Sam, she'll be here soon enough." You replied.

Sam smiled at you gently. "I know. I just hate the anticipation and nerves that comes with the wait."

That was understandable. The nerves you'd felt in Tony's car when he told you he could introduce you to the rest of your soulmates had felt like you were going to vomit. You supposed he was just wondering if she would reject him or accept him.

You hadn't had any doubts. You were the first born in the family, so you had all the rights to the soulmates. Though, you hadn't expected that some of them would already have soulmates. But even then, you weren't as worried as Elizabeth might be.

After all Elizabeth was a second born, which meant a lot of things in a polite society. She would marry the soulmates second after all. At least in a polite society anyways. In some more outcast rugged societies, it didn't matter who married who first.

It was a great thing that you lived in a polite society. You were glad that you got to marry them first. And Elizabeth couldn't possibly be ready for marriage because you weren't entirely sure you were ready to marry all of them and she was even younger than you. You felt that if you waited a few more years, then things would be amazing.

"So she is coming here?" Tony asked again, rubbing his eyes.

"Yes." You said with a faint hint of amusement in your voice.

"What do you think she'd want for her bedroom? I can start having things moved in." Tony said.

The idea of him spending money on your sister when you knew she wouldn't appreciate it made you feel guilty. "Not to much. She really isn't one on material objects. I think as long as she has a bed and maybe a bookcase with books in it she'll be fine. But I can ask her if that makes you feel better about it."

Tony nodded. "Sounds like a good plan. I would hate for her stay not to be up to her standards."

You wanted to tell him that half the time Elizabeth preferred staying in the barn loft in the dirty hay than her own nice warm clean bed, but didn't. Then it would sound like you were bad mouthing her instead of just sharing a random fact.

"What are you going to be doing today doll?" Bucky asked you as you finally settled yourself down at the table with a plate of food.

You shrugged. "I wasn't sure. I guess whatever you want to do, Buckaroo."

Bucky looked pleased with this and suggested that you, Steve, Sam, and him all take a walk down to the museum.

"Okay." You nodded your head and ate a strip of bacon to hide your disappointment. A museum? There were so many other fun things to do in New York and he wanted to go to a museum?

But, he was your soulmate, you figured, and an old one at that. Old people did generally like museums over everything else. Your parents had dragged the two of you to DC once to show you the culture and history of America- which you really didn't care about. It was just a bunch of monuments and museums. Yay. And you barely ate any great food.

But a date was a date and after breakfast you headed to your bedroom to look for something to wear. You decided on black panty hose, a grey skirt, a burgundy shirt, with a black jacket over it and black heeled boots. You brushed out your hair, still marveling at how short it was, before putting in green jade earrings. Grabbing your matching black purse, you headed out the door to meet the others downstairs.

"You look fabulous doll." Bucky grinned, wrapping his metal arm around your waist to pull you in for a hug, and then dipped you slightly to kiss you. You kissed back as you tasted the bitter raspberries and the sweetness of the sausage. You thought, almost for a moment, that he tasted like home.

"Alright c'mon." Steve teased. "You two keep kissing like that and we'll never make it to the museum."

"Later." Bucky muttered, nipping at the skin under your ear, letting go of your waist to take your hand instead.

"Later." You repeated with a giggle, letting them lead you from the tower.

To be fair, the museum actually wasn't that bad. There was a WWII display that was meant specifically for Steve Rogers. There were mentions of Bucky in there, as well as other soldiers who had fought alongside them. There was also a woman mentioned there, a Peggy Carter. You glanced over at Steve, who seemed a little sad looking at her picture and decided it was better not to ask.

There were other, less exciting exhibits, but you soldiered along for them. They seemed to enjoy it and that was all that really mattered to you.

"Did you have fun doll?" Bucky asked as he kissed you.

"It was a really interesting exhibit." You admitted. "I had no idea you guys had done all of those things. Was it scary or did you guys think you could just do it because you had Captain America on your side?"

Bucky thought about it, "It was still scary, fighting you know? You can always die. . . but it was a huge comfort that we were taking down HYDRA. And Steve was by my side the entire time. I knew if I was ever in trouble he'd save me. And if he was in trouble I'd save him. He's more than my soulmate, he's my best friend and he's my soul. Now you and Sam are too."

You smiled at that, wondering what it would feel like to rely on someone else so completely. Especially when it came to your life.

"That's sweet." You murmured, your hold on Bucky tightening. Maybe you would learn to rely on someone like that. Maybe that someone would be your soulmates.

ₓ˚. ୭ ˚○◦˚.˚◦○˚ ୧ .˚ₓ

ELIZABETH PITCHED FRESH HAY INTO THE loft up in the barn. Hogun helped her. He had fit in well, the two of them almost dress identically in jeans, flannel shirts, and cowboy boots. They both even had their hair pulled back, though Elizabeth's was in her typical ponytail and Hoguns was in his traditional warrior bun.

Once the hay had been traded in for fresh hay, the two of them went ahead sitting up there. "It is comfortable up here." Hogun murmured, laying back on the hay. It was soft, the strange, potent smell intruding his nostrils. It was almost a musky sweet smell.

"I love it up here." Elizabeth's voice was soft. She didn't speak much, preferring to ask simple or intricate questions and listen to him talk. She loved his accent and his manner of speaking, hanging on his every word that she had never done before. "Did you have a special place for you to go on Asgard?"

"Yes." Hogun said, reaching out for her. Elizabeth rolled to him, laying her head on his chest, his arm around her. "There's this very secluded spot by one of our large lakes. There's a great many trees that surround it. It's a quarter of a days ride from the castle. Lots of people go there, but no one knows about the spot behind the waterfall. Except maybe Loki and Heimdall. I hope I get to show you soon."

"It sounds beautiful." Elizabeth whispered, closing her eyes. The sounds of the cows and horses settling in for the night, the sounds of the dogs barking to round up the sheep, the sounds of pigs splashing in mud, chickens clucking softly to her, and just the barest sound of the dishes clinking in the sink through the open window were as familiar to her as a persons favorite song.

Hogun looked down at her as she slowly drifted off to sleep on him. It was the first time he had felt something like peace. On Asgard, he was either fighting or training. The few times he relaxed weren't peaceful. They were fun, hanging with Fandral and Volstagg and Sif. And Thor of course. But they weren't peaceful. They were chaotic in another way, in a fun boisterous way.

Asgard was in an era of peace, had been for the past few years. He could easily see himself settling down with Elizabeth, even here on Midgard which he had only visited once or twice before. He liked it here. He liked it here with her.

A sudden thought struck him. He leaned over to kiss her forehead. "I'll be right back." He whispered and slipped down the ladder of the loft and hurried back to the house.

ₓ˚. ୭ ˚○◦˚.˚◦○˚ ୧ .˚ₓ

YOU AND IVY WERE DNACING ON THE disco floor of one of the close New York clubs. Tony and Stephen and some of the other less uptight Avengers were here as well. They were mostly sitting in the booth though Nat and Wanda were both somewhere on the floor as well.

You and Ivy were laughing and singing, drinking your problems away as Tony called for more shots. By the time you all got ready to leave, you and Tony were laughing, falling over drunk. Stephen was amused and so was Clint- who was only semi drunk.

"Designated driver." Stephen said, yanking the keys out of Tony's hand, sliding into the drivers seat.

"I'll see you later Y/N." Ivy said as Kaylee hooked her arm through her and two of them staggered down the street in a fit of laughter.

You and Tony curled up in the back of the car, making out. You could feel Stephen's eyes on the two of you in the rearview mirror. Tony moved his lips to your throat. "Fuck Y/N, you're gorgeous."

You blushed, both from intoxication and his words. "Well you're gorgeous too Mr. Stark."

"Not in the car." Stephen deadpanned.

"It's my car." Tony slurred, slipping his hand under your skirt, teasing your clit through your knickers.

"Hmm, that's true." Stephen said, eyes darkening as you let out a high pitched whine from Tony's teasing.

"Tony." You whimpered.

Tony slipped two fingers into your warmth. The rough feeling of the pads of his fingers against your clit made your hips buck slightly into him. You drifted one hand down, unzipping his pants and started to stroke his cock.

The two of you pleasured each other as Stephen pulled into the parking lot of Avengers tower. The minute he parked, he tossed the keys onto the key rack and portaled the three of you to their bedroom.

"You two are such unnecessary teases." Stephen growled, stroking your face with his hand and then sighed, "Pity you two are drunk. I won't be taking advantage of you both."

"Stephen." You whined.

"Both of you go to sleep." Stephen demanded, undressing on the other side of the room to get into his pajamas.

You and Tony exchanged a glance and then grinned. Tony grabbed his hands, slipping the sling ring off his fingers. Tony actually managed to tie Stephen's hands behind his back, shoving his back up against the wall.

"Tony." Stephen groaned before gasping as you took his length into his mouth, his eyes rolling back into his head. His hands jumped in his bonds, attempting to free himself from the fabric tie. "How the heck did you tie this so tight?"

"It's a specialty of mine baby." Tony murmured, nipping at his ear and kissing down his jaw line, leaving bright purple blossoms on his chest.

Stephen attempted to stifle another groan as you licked his entire cock from base to tip. Tony ran his hands down Stephen's chest until he was fondling Stephen's balls.

Stephen's legs started to shake as the both of you teased him relentlessly. He kept his head thrown back against the wall, bracing himself against it, eyes closed, mouth slack.

"Fuck." Tony murmured straight into Stephen's ear. "Being such a good boy, aren't you baby?"

Stephen's cock twitched in your mouth and you could taste the salty precum even more now. You swirled your tongue over the tip like an ice cream, helping Tony as you stroked what didn't fit into your mouth.

"God if you weren't drunk." Stephen moaned, cock twitching in your mouth again. "The things I'd do to you for restraining me."

"Aw, but you like being restrained, don't you baby?" Tony continued to tease and through your slight haze you wondered if he really was as drunk as he had been acting. Or maybe he had just spent so much of his past life drunk he was practically sober. "You like being submissive to us, don't you?"

His words were Stephens undoing as he spilled into your mouth. His knees nearly gave out as you pulled away. Stephen's turquoise eyes stared into your own as you got to your feet, smirking at him sweetly.

"You're both in so much trouble when you're sober." Stephen muttered, tossing you over his shoulder to stagger over to the bed. "But I'll take care of you tonight, don't you worry." And to prove his point, he lowered his mouth to your pussy.

ₓ˚. ୭ ˚○◦˚.˚◦○˚ ୧ .˚ₓ

ELIZABETH'S FATHER STARED AT HOGUN from across the room. Hogun had come into the room in somewhat of a hurry. It was a bit strange, her father thought looking at the man. He was usually calm and collected, but at the moment he seemed rather frazzled.

"I-" Hogun finally spoke and then swallowed, gathering his courage. He was a warrior and shouldn't be feeling like this. "I want your permission to marry your daughter."

Your father shifted only slightly to rest his chin on his hand. "Do you now?"

Hogun's heart was attempting to leap out of his chest. He had faced down hordes of monsters and armies of a thousand men. How was it possible that simply asking for your sisters hand in marriage was so nerve racking?

"Yes." Hogun said thickly. "I have waited for her for a thousand years and I do not wish to wait any longer. There is something about her that captivates me. I long to be in her presence when I am not and cannot imagine a life without her by my side."

Her father nodded slowly. "We live in a polite society where she, as a second child, cannot, or perhaps the better word is should not, marry before her elder sister."

He watched Hogun's face grow stricken with this news and then with calmed measure he replied, "On Asgard there are no such matters. After her sister gets married, we could have an Earthly ceremony. But if you are alright with it, I would love to marry her immediately on Asgard."

Her father felt pleased with this answer and he openly grinned, "You had my permission before you walked through that door this evening. I've never seen anyone make Elizabeth as happy as you have in these short months. You have my permission to get married immediately, I have no taste for polite society, they've certainly never done anything for us. Marry her here, marry her on Asgard, just let me walk her down the aisle."

"Of course sir." Hogun said, feeling suddenly as though the breath had been knocked from him. "Thank you."

"But," Her father continued with a small smile. "That being said I should warn you. You hurt her or break her heart, I have two shotguns and several other guns. I don't need a gun to kill you either. I have crossbows as well as shovels. You've been warned."

At this, Hogun smiled at the idea of the farmer killing him, though he understood the real message underneath his words. "Believe me sir, I would never hurt her on purpose or an accident. I love her to much. And for us Asgardians, that love never diminishes once we find it."

Her father nodded sharply at this. "Go and propose to her."

As Hogun bowed and took leave of the room, her father smiled to himself. Elizabeth was his favorite, this was no secret. The way that you were your mothers favorite.

He chuckled. "Elizabeth married before Y/N. Wonder how she'll take the news. Not well, I suppose, but what to do."

At that moment, your mother entered the room. "Y/F/N, was that Hogun who just left here? Where is Elizabeth?"

Your father smiled. "Take a seat Y/M/N, you're going to want to be sitting down when you hear this news."

⬅️➡️

[artificial-ascension]

I like to imagine Beyond's hypothetical shinigami dad (mom? I just find it more likely he was human born since he's... clearly a human with at least one shinigami power and if he was birthed by a shinigami he'd probably be more like a nerfed shinigami just by like... Pokemon breeding logic I guess) is a shinigami we haven't seen rather than a pre existing character simply because 1. That's another character oh boy how fun and 2. I feel like there'd have to be some ramifications of making such a beast. Like if extending human life is a crime punishable by instant death how is making another human also not a punishable offense? Like at the very least put them in time put for that. Don't just let them hang about with everyone else.

Anyway my personal take is that B's shinigami dad was summoned (I imagine there has to be some way to summon a shinigami, or at least ask for one to come down or something) by some shinigami worship cult or whatever and for whatever reason, decided to bone some human women and create Beyond Birthday. The shinigami king was like hey, what the fuck dude, penis privilege revoked for all of you and Beyond's father was permanently shunned by the rest of the shinigami because jacking off was the only other thing to do besides gambling.

The shinigami king had to make a whole bunch of rules about how Beyond should even function and assigned his father to look over him to make sure he wasn't being too much of an issue. Beyond's dad was already a very finicky and active shinigami so following some guy around earth wasn't ideal but he got to spend time with his kid I guess.

He never actually showed himself to B, kinda just doing paranormal shit like dropping things or moving things in his room when he wasn't in there. The reason why was that he didn't need B going full crazy and trying to convince everyone he was haunted by some freaky monster because B was already something of an outcast and didn't need another reason for people to hate him.

One interesting little idea I had was the concept of shinigami eye inheritance. My idea going that the eyes are a recessive trait and can only be introduced into the gene pool by someone having a child while they had the eyes. If both parents have them when the kid in conceived a child with be born with the eyes. B's mom made the deal and his dad was obviously a shinigami so he has the eyes. Now an interesting side effect of carrying the gene means there is a chance to recognize the vague visage of shinigami without touching a notebook. Not being fully capable, but still understanding that something was there. Basically, A happened to carry the gene because someone in his family had they eyes in the past meaning he could see B's dad following him. Now obviously B's father didn't account for this because honestly the chance of a human carrying that gene is so extremely slim and he only made an effort to hide himself from B so A got to see the distorted face of death and maybe that may have acounted in his unfortunate demise but hey he was gonna die young anyway and at least the visage of a death god haunting your friend helps inspire you to make cool horror art.

Oh also the reason B wasn't killed instantly is because the shinigami king was curious as to how his life would go. It went bad but he was amused by the LABB murder cases (obviously shinigami kid would not be in trouble for murder, it's literally in his blood.)

[sarcfox]

It’s a major holiday, that means coming to visit you and your sister. Grandma and Great Aunt.

Sometimes I wonder if it’ll be any different, if you would've had an unexpected shift in views in the months since the prior visit. You won’t. But there’s always that naive twinge of hope in the back of my mind.

We always have dinner at your house on visiting days, once the day we arrive, then the next day before taking our leave.

It wouldn’t matter where we’d eat, both the front room and kitchen had a TV.

That’s where the topic would be brought up. It could be a political advertisement for a candidate, or even simply a medical commercial using gender-neutral language.

“Why don’t they just say women?! Nobody else can get pregnant, no matter what the left says. Can’t even say women anymore.”

My sister would gently correct you. ‘Not all women can get pregnant.’ ‘Not all pregnant people are women.’ You’d get all huffy. ‘The gays don’t want children to call their parents mommy or daddy anymore. They’re letting children mutilate themselves in schools. Sinners, the lot of them, destined to burn eternally.’

She stays quiet in response. She knows there’s no arguing with you. You won’t listen, won’t hear out any other view. But she’ll subtly look towards me with almost unnoticeable sympathy laced in her expression. She knows my plight, the secret only she in the family knows.

Two parts of me, what I can’t control, has been condemned by you. Flesh and blood. This isn’t the first time, far from it. But the hurt felt never lessens. You don’t know. No inkling crosses your mind. The heat sent from you burns into me, unforgiving and painful.

Would you change your mind if you knew? Would the knowledge that your own grandchild, your own DNA, didn’t feel like a girl, never connected with it? Liked people other than men? Would it change anything?

Or would you continue on, purposely directing your stinging words at me?

Would you think me a monster? A sinful predator, no longer human in your eyes?

Would you still love me as family?

I’m used to being outcasted. But I don’t think I could take it from close family.

You’ve been different too. So I just don’t understand how you think this way. Teen pregnancy and being mentally ill in the late 19th century? Wasn’t easy. You know this. You’ve experienced it. The multitude of personal problems and social stigmas you dealt with as a teenage mother. The stigma that depression brought. Not being understood as a serious problem, being told to ‘suck it up’ and to stop feeling sorry for yourself. You couldn’t control either of these. You should know the crushing feeling of otherness.

I know that same feeling of crushedness. Your comments, hate towards people who aren’t straight, don’t fit into the societal view of gender, it all hurts. And it will continue to hurt, even if you don’t know who you’re hurting.

Everyone is human, regardless of gender, sexuality, or anything else. And it hurts when anybody is treated less than for something they can’t control, how they were born.

Will I ever tell you this? Express the hurt I’ve experienced at your metaphorical hands?

No. I won’t.

That’s why I write this. This unsent letter. In a last ditch, naive hope, that you will change. Change to be more accepting.

For now though, I will remain quiet and take the brunt. Maybe, when I’m not so scared of your reaction, rejection, maybe I’ll tell you.

[alphaketoglutaricacid]

First pass on designing K'sante's and Yone's parents for my yosante fic that may or may not happen. My thoughts on them under the cut

K'sante's Mom

Family fled the noxian colonization of the northern cities of shurima and traveled around state to state before settling to nazumah when she was a kid

Wanted to become a monster hunter but found it hard to find mentors. Elbowed her way in through the years and became a very respected monster hunter.

These days she works w repurposing monster parts into dyes, fibers, leathers, food, and weapons. Very well respected still in the profession but the morbidity rate of the field is high and she wanted to be able to see her son grow up

Very sharp and percieves things that go past others. Kind of a dry sense of humor thats an aquired taste

She has high expectations of k'sante as a kid so he had nightmares of getting an A- instead of an A+ at school (this never happened. Bc K'sante was a once in a century talent theres no problem but if he was even slightly mediocre there would've been lmao

No son of hers is gonna believe in religion, god, or kings bc she practices the ancient tradition of r/athiesm.

K'sante's Dad

Comes from a long line of monster hunters. Hunted a bit in his youth but his true passion was botany. He got pretty bored of hunting for awhile and was going thru the motions until he met K'sante's mom. She worked so hard n was so passionate he started liking it again.

K'sante's mom convinced him to pursue his passions so now hes a very well respected academic working in the real interesting feild of the ecological interactions of fauna w the local magic enhanced monsters. Also knows a lot about the history of the medicinal herb trade. He's kind of a black sheep of the family as a result. His fam loves him but can't understand his choices.

A "chill dad" but maybe a little too chill? Theorectially he'd be okay w K'sante taking ten years off to find himself and its like man. Maybe you should be less cool with that?

Very sweet and gifts K'sante many rare plants even tho he kills them within a month. Otherwise a fantastic and thoughtful giftgiver that makes you cry but hes convinced K'santes just not past the learning curve yet.

K'sante had access to a lot of academic texts as a kid because of him. He was kinda a snotty kid the way u get when ur really smart and don't have the understanding that as an adult you accept some of the bullshit of living. He didnt get along w kids his age bc he was like these kids dont even read foucoult :/ and K'santes dad was like son..... why would they...........

Yone's Mom

Formerly a swordsmaster that married and decided to settle down to raise a family. She fell apart when Yone's father died and drank a lot. When yasuo was born she resolved to pull herself together to raise him properly. She tried to get back into the sword fighting business as a teacher but found the world moved on without her and she has a lot of resentment over this.

Was away working a lot so a lot of raising yasuo inevitably fell onto yone's shoulders. He resented her a lot in the way you really only can as a kid before you can conceputalize your parents as people so instead they're a laundry list of the ways they've failed you. He hated that he was her splitting image leading to some questionable fashion choices (the beard). He feels bad about it now but doesn't entirely know how to mend that relationship. They eventually rebuild their relationship but Yone's mom understands there'll always be a part of Yone that hates her and shes okay with this.

Yasuo loves her though, thinks shes awesome and they were outcasts together. This was still not enough for him to like, tell her hes still alive out of shame after doing all that. Yone percieved himself as the dutiful son but in reality they both just suck so bad as sons. She's fond of K'sante cuz she views him as her sole son (in law) thats not a fuck up.

Eventually irelia comes to their village in the middle of nowhere and is like master..... I know you've been retired but we need your expertise for da war... and like a retired gruff GI shes like I knew you would find me no matter where I ran..... The Noxians are like holy shit why are there three of these annoying fuckers running around. She says those stupid one liners yone n yas say. Yone gets so embarassed by this that he retires his corny one-liners forever. Now he just doesnt speak when fighting.

She and K'santes mom are super close bc theyve both suffered enormously over noxian colonization and it was cool for both of them to find someone who could understand it in another part of the world.

[angelamajiki]

PAIRINGS: Father! Yandere! Enji Todoroki x Daughter! Reader

CW: yandere, incest, soulmate AU, fluff, slight angst, nsfw, kissing, praise kink, virginity kink, size kink, bathroom sex

A BNHarem Collab!

AN: my longest piece to date! the prompt this month was sex work, so i decided to stretch the prompt and do sexual slavery. wanted to go for a softer version of daddy endeavor, so please enjoy <3

5.2k words

The mark on his wrist was one that was shared with yours. Enji had given up on finding his soulmate, deciding that his career and legacy were far more important than some silly marking on another’s body. Love was something he thought he could go without. But when he saw your bright eyes gaze up at him, your chubby hand wrapped around his index finger, his heart had fallen hard—such a sweet, gentle thing. No traces of fear, of disdain, of disgust for him as a human being. Just pure curiosity and unconditional love. His heart leaped for his little girl.

Enji was determined, then and there, that he would never fail you, not like he forgot the others.

Oh, what plans he had for you, his precious princess. He couldn’t wait to spoil you, to marry you and start a new family once you were old enough. Rei realized this as well. Her youngest daughter, her last hope at salvaging her broken family, was to be had by her husband. The thought frightened her, especially after seeing the adoring look in her husband's eyes when she saw him cradle you for the first time. It was so unlike the stoic nature he held for the other children when they were born, only caring to see that they were healthy before leaving off back to his agency, never giving them more than a fleeting touch. It was nothing like when he held you, snarling at any nurse who dared to take his soulmate from the grips of his arms.

Something that had Enji’s conviction more so than his career was something to be feared. Your mother swore to herself that she would not let her husband ruin you.

Once he fell asleep with you tucked in the crook of his arm, a social worker came and collected you to be sent to a foster home and be set up for adoption. It was better than falling into the hands of the monster of a husband.

After the death of Touya, the pair decided to have one more child in hopes of fixing their broken family, but Rei now knew it was for naught. Nothing could save them know, especially now that Enji had nearly burned the building down when he discovered that his little girl was gone, just hours after he had finally found you.

Rei alerted the commission as well for your protection, that utter bitch of a woman. They very well couldn't have the number two hero caught in an incestuous bond with his daughter, now could they. All information of your whereabouts was hidden from him, blacklisting him from working with any foster children, lest he loses his hero license. Enji may have lost you for the time being, but his patience grew as he did. They couldn't keep him from you forever. You'd be reunited one day; he knows it.

The first time he saw you again was when you were fifteen. It was your birthday and the day he had become the number one hero officially, plenty of reason to celebrate. Usually, he would have taken the time to sit near the rose bush he planted in your honor in his courtyard on your birthday, renewing his vows to find and love you to the best of his ability. Enji took great pride in keeping your memory alive with the bush for his beautiful little rose gone too soon from his grasp. But there you were, mere meters from him.

The foster home you stayed at took you out for dinner when he was meeting with Hawks after the billboard awards. Your eyes were unmistakable, a perfect cerulean just like his own. He was so close, yet so far. My, how you had grown since he saw you. Unlike him, you bore your mark proudly on your wrist, not ashamed to admit to the world who your soulmate was. Not like you actually knew who it was anyway.

Enji was prepared to leave Hawks at the table; a new flame lit under his ass, one far more exhilarating than the thought of being the number one hero. He was up and on his way to speak to you before Nomu attacked him. Damn villains, they'd pay for separating the two of you once again. But his conviction only grew stronger. It wasn’t hard to find you after that; he knew what city you were living in. Instincts lashed out at him, demanding that he go sweep you up and hide you away. No, no. That would make you frightened; he can't have that. He’ll watch from the sidelines, waiting until you were of age to make a move. He was curious to see just how life as a foster child was treating you.

Growing up in the foster system had been a nightmare from hell for you. A cursed child is what they saw you as when your skin sprouted flames every time it was touched by the human hand, burning everything and everyone who came in contact with it. From the moment your quirk manifested, you were an outcast, an untouchable, unlovable freak. Someone destined never to feel the touch of their new parents, their lover, their soulmate.

It wasn't long before you realized that you would remain in the foster system until you aged out. Who would adopt a child they couldn't hug when they cried, hold their hand when they crossed the street, snuggle up to when it was chilly outside? Any potential parent was taken aback by your quirk once you reached for the warm touch of mommy and daddy, only to singe their hand or burn a hole in their shirt.

You learned quickly that your touch was something to be feared, that you were something to be feared. You supposed that’s why you looked up to him so much. So much so that you thought about him late at night when the loneliness seemed to drown you in the sea of your insecurities.

Endeavor was the only one who could understand you, understand your quirk. If only your soulmate mark could match him, maybe you feel the warmth of another human being without hurting or mauling them with your power. Abrasive he may be with the media, but there something about him that was so comforting and endearing to you. In your eyes, he was simply misunderstood, a gentle giant amongst the mass personalities of the other pro heroes.

Watching his interviews brought you comfort when you were lonely, his merchandise made you swell with pride and confidence, and his posters on the wall reminded you that you were never alone. It was a silly crush, but it made you feel better about your miserable life.

You even got to see him on your birthday! Well, not exactly. You happened to be in the same restaurant when your foster parents took you out for your birthday. It was apparent that they just felt bad for you, having looked after you for 15 years only to still have custody of your sorry ass. You were almost certain that they were going to kick you to the curb the morning of your 18th birthday.

Too bad they never had the chance. That fate would have been much kinder than the reality you faced now.

Once the Paranormal Liberation Front had effectively ripped society up by the roots and let the tree of life rot for the world to see, your foster parents packed their shit and left the country while you were at school. You’d been alone in the world ever since and were snatched off the streets, ready to be sold into slavery by the villains of the world. Your quirk was the only thing keeping you from being bought like a bitch from the auction floor.

Enji, on the other hand, was more than eager to do just that. After his public smear campaign by his allegedly dead son, he was dead to the world, finally abandoning his family for good in hopes of finding his beloved daughter. His life was dedicated to searching for you, having managed to track you down through his vigilante work. He likes to lie to himself and say that he’s continuing to fight for the greater good, but Enji does it just to have the chance to see your sweet face again. There wasn’t much to go off of, but he’d rather see his fiery end than to give up. That's how he found you at the auction.

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Another auction night was approaching, which meant another night of humiliation and being displayed like a slab of meat for a crowd of degenerate wolves. Your quirk was the only thing keeping you from being sold; no one wants a fucktoy they can’t touch. It reduced you to physical labor for your captors, but you were better fed because of it. That didn’t mean they still didn’t try to sell you.

After being stripped down into nothing but a collar, leash, and a muzzle, you were brought to the stage and shoved in front of the ravenous, roaring crowd. You could feel their stares seep into your bones, the grime from the floor on your bare feet only adding to the overwhelming sensation of disgust you couldn’t even begin to describe.

The crowd’s excitement was raucous, jeers and shouts echoing off the halls of the underground auditorium. Masks covered their faces for the sake of privacy lest a vigilante break-in and hunt them all down. Even in the lawlessness of the world, heroes were still crawling everywhere to trail after even the slightest scent of villainy. Doesn't mean they’ll win, but hey, the death of a hero is just the same as the auction was to them.

“Up next, a darling girl with a fiery quirk!”

That was your cue. A handler had a fierce grip on your leash, giving it a few tugs for good measure as the crowd laughed at your stumbling. The auctioneer began to list your qualities and physical attributes, including your quirk.

“And she’s a virgin!”

Added for good measure, the crowd fell silent after listening to the abilities of your quirk. You couldn't hate it anymore; it's what was keeping you from being someone’s onahole until the day you kicked the bucket.

“Can I get $10,000?”

Ah the starting bid. The silence was relieving. Just a few more moments and you'd be off that damn stage.

“No? Going once, going twice, going-”

“One million.”

A booming voice came from the back row, the depths of the shadows to further hide the masked man who just bought your life. Why did it sound so familiar?

“Outstanding! One million dollars for the young lady!”

“Going once.”

It couldn't be.

“Going twice.”

This can't be happening.

“Sold for one million!”

No!

You were supposed to be unwanted, just like you have been your entire life! Yet some mysteriously familiar man outbid the entire auction for little ol’ you.

“Off the stage, bitch.”

The handler snarled, yanking you off the stage and causing you the fall and bruise yourself in the process.

“Watch it!” He spat, picking you up by the roots of your hair. “The merchandise needs to be handled carefully before reaching the customer. Let's hope he doesn't mind some bumps and bruises. For your sake.”

“That won't be necessary; I'll be taking her as is. Immediately, if you will.”

The mysterious man stood had already made his way backstage and behind you, standing formidably over your stark form. Your hair was released, dropping you back to the floor.

“Excellent, sir! I’m more than happy to get this welp off my hands.”

A brief exchange was made while you recovered on the floor, shaking in fear as the situation weighed heavily on your already broken self. The handler took the money and returned to the back room, leaving the two of you alone together.

The stranger crouched down to you and extended a hand to brush the stray hair out of your face, touch remaining tender and gentle when you flinched harshly.

“My poor girl, what has the world done to you?”

His coat enveloped your body as he scooped you up in his arms. The scent of him comforted you more than you would have liked to admit. Teakwood and coffee grounds filled your senses as he held you flush against his chest, leaving the auction house with a renewed sense of vigor.

You were placed in the backseat of a car before he dressed you in simple pajamas.

“Rest. You deserve it.”

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At some point in the car ride, you let yourself fall asleep only to wake up in a cozy king-size bed wrapped up in a soft blanket next to a warm fireplace. The false sense of comfort lulled you for a few moments before your situation hit you like a ton of bricks. The anxiety you'd had known your whole life had finally kicked back into gear, forcing you out of bed and into the rest of the house.

It was daybreak, the sunlight slowly trickling in through heavily curtained windows as you walked through the halls and into the kitchen. The man was standing over the stove, sans mask, dressed in a wife-beater and his pajama bottoms. It couldn't be-

“Come in; breakfast will be on the table in a moment.”

Now you were certain.

“Who are you?” Your voice barely above a whisper. “Why did you buy me at the auction?”

A deep, rumbling chuckle flowed from the man.

“I think you know the answer to that, little one.”

His focus was retained on the meal in front of him. “I’ll explain myself over breakfast. Now sit.”

You couldn't help but feel compelled to obey him. While sitting, you took the time to honestly look him over for the first time in your life. Never did you think you would be so close to your childhood crush in such a domestic setting.

He had noticeably greyed but still possessed a majority of his red hair. Muscles were still taught and budging, but he had grown a little bit of a belly. Endeavor was as handsome as ever, aged like a fine wine that you couldn't wait to sip on.

The food was placed in front of you as he took the test next to you.

“Eat and have some water. Then we’ll talk.”

Once again, you obeyed him without question and refrained from eating like a rabid animal. It wasn't even a question, so much so that it is evident that you hadn't had a decent meal in a long time. You were still muscular from the labor you did for your handlers, though.

And Enji liked that about you. How resilient you were, he loved that you inherited his strength but still possessed Rei’s gentle nature. Not that he wanted to credit that woman for anything, but he couldn't deny the obvious. You were his strong, beautiful little girl who had to endure so much because his bitch of a wife decided to separate you from him.

But he was here now, ready to give all his love and protection to his only love. It took everything in his power not to swoop you up from your seat and hold you in his arms until his last breath.

Enji watched you eat, pride swelling in his chest at the thought that you liked his cooking. He couldn't help but wonder what your favorite meals were as well. There's certainly all the time in the world to get to know his little girl now that he had you. And he was never going to let you go.

Your breakfast was devoured quickly, both out of desperation for a real meal and answers to your questions.

“Why did you buy me from the auction?”

It was a complicated question, but you wanted a simple answer.

“I’m your soulmate.” His wrist was on display as he reached across the table to hold your hand.

For the first time in your life, you felt safe. Your one, shining hope was meant to yours and he wanted to be yours. You didn't even question how he knew at all.

His touch was warm and slightly rough, but it was welcome all the same. Even though your skin was lit aflame at his flesh against your, he paid it no mind. He was built to take your quirk, to take you.

“Endeavor…”

“Please, call me Enji.” His thumb rubbed over the palm of your hand. “I’m sure you feel better after having something to eat.”

“Why don't you go take a bath? It’ll help you relax, I can take care of your dishes.”

It was strange how insistent he was on taking care of you, but you can't say you don't enjoy the attention. He seemed to care for you in a way that went beyond caring for a partner, or in your case, a soulmate. But who were you to judge? It wasn't like you had a lot of experiences to use as a comparison.

Making your way back to the bedroom, you took the time to study the house you were in. A traditional, well-kept home, it practically looked like it was untouched. And maybe it was; buildings and homes fully intact were hard to come by these days, let alone ones that were clean and warm.

Enji seemed to lull you into an instinctual sense of safety, even though he bought you out of slavery. Just because he was your soulmate didn't mean that he had good intentions for you, but somehow, his presence alone filled a void in your heart that you had forgotten was even there.

Once you made it to the bathroom connected to the master bedroom, you drew yourself a bath just like Enji had instructed you to do. It wasn't the wisest decision to let your guard down like this, but the man already had plenty of opportunities to fuck you up by this point.

The water was warm and inviting when you sank yourself into it; you couldn't remember the last time you had warm water to clean yourself with. It made you feel light and hazy, slipping into a headspace you had long forgotten—a place of safety and comfort.

Three raps on the door pulled you from your haze as Enji entered the bathroom with fresh towels. Despite the fact that he had already seen you naked, the intimacy of the situation only left you feeling more vulnerable than ever.

“Let me help you.”

He kneeled next to you outside of the tub and pulled a lavender chamomile shampoo from the tub’s shelf. There was room to protest, but you couldn't find yourself willing to do so.

Water was poured over your head before he started a lather in your hair, gently scrubbing your scalp for a while. Even this simple touch made you shudder, it was a long time since you last felt the warmth of someone’s touch. And everything about this man was warm, for you at least. His words, his touch, his heart.

Conditioner was added to your hair as well before he moved onto washing your body. The scrub was gentle across your skin, his hand following after it to help keep the suds from rising too much. Strong hands massaged your back and your neck, both of which needed the much-deserved relief.

“So tense.” He murmured, mostly to himself.

There was a comfortable silence shared between the two of you as he massaged out all the knots and kinks that had built up over the years with your handlers. His touch should have made you flinch but you found yourself pressing into it. A small moan escaped your lips as he worked through a particularly tender spot on your neck.

“Are you enjoying this?”

His lips ghosted your ear as warm breath tickled your cheek and neck.

Your face flushed with a fiery warmth from a combination of the steam, your embarrassment, and the man whispering sweet nothings in your ear as his hands worked at your tired skin.

“Let me help you relax, sweet thing.”

Enji picked you up momentarily to slot himself behind you in the tub. Placed on his lap, you gasped when you could feel his erection hard against your back. Fear started to trickle into your veins as you squirmed slightly, attempting to get out of his grasp.

“Shhh, it's alright, you're okay.” His hand made its way to your throat and rested there gently, stroking over your artery with his thumb. “I’m not going to hurt you, sweetheart. Let me show you how much I've missed you.”

His touch made you feel alive, feel wanted for the first time in your life. You couldn't help but whine when his other hand made its way down your body, gently groping your breast as his lips were pressed to your ear.

“Do you trust me to take care of you?”

His fingers toyed with your nipples, obviously skilled.

“Do you trust me to make the sweetest love to you?”

Another whine caught in your throat as his hand went further, cupping your sex in his much larger hand. He kneaded gently, pressing a soft kiss to your temple when you writhed in his grip.

“Please! Enji-”

Shushing you gently, Enji’s thumb made its way to your clit to stroke in small circles.

“How does that feel, sweetheart?”

You were used to touching yourself, but oh God it never felt like this.

“Good!” You managed to choke out in a wanton moan. “So good! Enji, please, I need-”

A warm pair of lips sealed over yours, silencing you once again. Enji knew how wrong this was, to take advantage of you like this without revealing the truth. But he wanted at least to just once to have you in his arms willingly and eagerly. He wanted to kiss you breathless, listen to your cries and feel your nails dig into his skin as he gave you all of himself without a fight from you. He can worry about revealing himself to you later.

The rough pads of his large fingers started to apply pressure to your clit as his middle finger slipped into your tight hole under the water.

“Don't worry, little one. I'll give you what you need.”

Soft kisses were trailed along your cheek and hand that was on his that was still holding your throat tenderly. Finger pumping in and out of you, Enji whispered sweet praises to you as he felt your hole clench around him.

“Doing so well for me, sweetheart.”

Your breathy moans and whines only served to harden his cock. He felt like a teenager all over again, closing to cumming just from the sound of your voice.

Another finger slipped into your tight core, careful not to overwhelm you too fast. It was obvious you'd hadn't been touched before, not even by yourself. You felt full but greedy for more of his touch.

“Deeper, Enji! Please, can you?”

You were babbling at this point, writhing in his lap as he fingered you nice and slow with thick digits. Enji hummed as he pressed further into, curling his fingers into your G-spot.

Your cry was loud as he began to abuse your most sensitive spot, fully squirming in his arms as tears of pleasure breached your eyes. The sensation was too overpowering for you, making you thrash and arch in his arms.

“Shh, you're okay, sweetheart. You're okay; I'm right here.”

His fingers continued to stroke in a curled fashion, thumb still circling over your twitching clit. Enji kissed you again, deeper and more fierce as he began to fuck you earnestly with his fingers.

“Cum for me, darling.”

Squealing, you gripped his forearm and cried helplessly into his mouth. The build was slow and intense, allowing your orgasm to wash over you in waves of pleasure rather than a blinding, quick light.

“E-Enji!” You wailed. “Enji!”

You shook in his arms, holding onto the larger man for dear life as you experienced your first orgasm. It seemed like Enji knew your body better than you did.

No words were exchanged between the pair of you, but you could feel the tension of your desired hanging thick in the air. This man was going to take your virginity, here and now.

Enji removed his hand from your throat and between your legs in order to maneuver you to sit facing forward in his lap.

“Are you ready for me?”

His honesty made you flush even more. Biting your lip nervously, you hesitated to answer. Were you ready? It wasn’t like you had much of choice; the man could very well take you by force if he so chose to. But you felt safe in his arms, safe with him.

“Let me help you, my love.”

Warm, large hands gripped your backside as he held you steady above his cock. Your hand reached down to line yourself up with his throbbing sex, lowering yourself down on it slowly.

It burned in the best way, stretching you out fully as you pressed your forehead against his chin.

“Good girl, taking my cock so well, darling.”

A pitiful whine left your throat at the praise, hands gripping the forearms that held you in place.

“Can...Can you hold me?” You whimpered. “Please?”

Enji’s arms enveloped you and pulled you flush against his, tucking your head into the crook of his neck as you continued to lower yourself onto his cock. Your breath tickled his ears, making him groan lowly once he bottomed out inside of you.

“Such a sweet girl you are, taking all of me on your first try.”

Another whine responded for you as you ground your hips down on his.

“E-Enji.” You whimpered his name over and over again like a prayer. “Enji!”

“Be still, little one.” Hands back on your hips, holding you in place near the tip of his girthy length. “Let me take care of you.”

Hips in place, the man began to thrust up into you slowly, holding you tight as he stood up from the water. You only gripped and nuzzled yourself into him further, letting out sweet whines and whimpers into his ear while he thrust into you.

Your back was placed against the cool tile of the wall when he tilted your chin up to meet his gaze. Even in this position, he was still at least another head taller than you.

“Look at me when I make love to you.”

Through wet eyelashes, you gazed up at his eyes and let your mouth hang open as he rolled his hips into yours. His eyes shut briefly when he moaned, hissing at the feeling of your wet cunt hugging his cock so well.

“You were made to take my cock, little one.”

Arms reached up to wrap around his neck as he thrust into you, taking his time to make his strokes slow and deep. His hips were flush against yours when you asked him, “Kiss me, please? I want all of you Enji.”

Your bold proclamation stunned him for a moment before yielding, placing a deep kiss and a hot tongue against your lips.

His thrusts became faster as he kissed you with more passion and vitality. For an old man, he certainly had his stamina up to par. Your fingers thread through his red and grey tresses, tugging him closer to you gently as you moaned shamelessly into his mouth.

The pleasure in your core was more intense, fiercer this time around as his thrusts became hard and fast. The sounds of both of your moans and skin slapping against skin echoed off the tiled bathroom walls as the both of you felt your orgasms coming.

“Enji, fuck!” You whined, beginning to squirt on his fast-paced cock. “I-I’m cumming; I’m cumming!”

“Cum for me, princess.”

With a choked sob, you creamed yourself all over his cock, which continued to pound into your hole before he groaned your name and came deep inside you.

Nothing but the sounds of the water sloshing and your labored breathing could be heard as you both came down from your highs.

After a moment of rest, Enji pulled out and wrapped you in a towel before laying you gently on the bed. A towel was wrapped around his own waist as he looked at you fondly, brushing stray hairs out of your eye sight as he sat next to you on the bed.

“I must ask, how did you end up at the auction site?”

What a loaded question, but the intimacy you two shared allowed for it.

“I was kidnapped off the streets after my parents abandoned me when the prison break happened.”

He sighed gruffly and took your hand in his.

“What utter fools, tossing aside a beautiful rose such as yourself.”

His thumb traced over your soulmate mark. You still had yet to know how he knew before ever meeting you.

“It's alright; I never considered them my family. I just wish I could have met mine, but at least I met my soulmate.”

A crinkled smile adorned his face.

“You've done more than meet them.”

What could that have meant?

“I’m your father and your soulmate, little one.”

A rock hit the pit of your stomach as you retracted your hand from his.

“That isn't a funny joke, I'm serious.”

“So am I.” His hand was quick to snatch your back. “What could I possibly gain from lying to you?”

“P-Prove it.”

“Our soulmate marks, I saw yours the moment you were born in the Hosu hospital before my wife separated us all those years ago. I can recite your birthday if you'd like me to, for good measure.”

Fuck, he really wasn't lying. A lump formed in your throat as tears sprung in your eyes.

“Why would you do this to me?” You whispered, barely even able to hear yourself.

“Because I love you. I love you so much, sweetheart. Ever since I saw you for the first time in the hospital, my entire life has changed because of you. All I ever wanted was you.”

Enji was quick to shush your cries, using his free hand to wipe your tears away.

“Will you forgive me for being selfish?”

The disgust and horror filled everyone of your senses, especially when you came to a realization that he was everything you've ever wanted.

What came out of your mouth next stunned the both of you.

“You can apologize by begging on your knees and cleaning me up with your tongue, Daddy.”

TAGLIST: @tomurasprincess @bonesoftheimpala @sightoru @cxnicalsweetheart

[1kook]

BORN SINNER III

→ MASTERLIST

summary; Regardless of whether you are a liar or not, that didn’t make it okay for Jungkook to lie to you. warnings; virgin jungkook, timid jungkook, church boy jk, a LOT of religious themes/discussion, catholic guilt, fear of sinning, mentions of masturbation, heavy doubts, a little paranoia/fear of being outcasted, jk has a crush, confessions, making out, boob lover jk has his boobs touched, groping/petting, light praise, very brief/light choking, jk is horny like 75% of the time, positive character development <3 rating; m (18+) wc; 9.5k

banner; as always, by @jamaisjoons​ !! ty ty ty!! <3333

notes; i have to apologize for delaying this update for so long. truth is, it was difficult to write the next part bc i felt like i had trapped myself in pt2-- jk wasn't showing ANY progress & i started to really hate his character. LUCKILY, with the help of my amazing editor n wife @kigurumu​ *audience cheers* i was able to put him back on the right track towards redemption! (& even more painful angst in the future!) sadly, that means that this part doesn't include any explicit smut, you'll see why. still, I'm very proud of how much i was able to build his character in this part and i hope you enjoy it!!! lemme know what u think <3

in the future, i will try my best to make sure the chapters aren’t so spaced out. again, i am so so sorry about taking so long to update this series

He gets your text the following Tuesday morning. 

Now, Jungkook has never been one to be overly invested in his cell phone; he uses it as much as he needs to, just checks his emails, takes some photos, and sends texts when necessary. But you had set up a particularly unique ringtone for yourself the other day, had sweetly asked for his phone as he laid against your chest. His skin had felt warm and the slightest bit sweaty, his body pressed so closely against you that he couldn’t tell where he ended and you began. “Did you have fun?” you asked, fingers combing back his hair. He had hummed, eyes fluttering shut to the faint tapping of your fingers across the keyboard. If he closes his eyes, he can still remember the soft beating of your heart beneath his ear, the leg you had hooked around his waist to pull him closer. The memory makes him shiver. 

It’s a high-pitched bell sound that alerts him of your messages now, completely unlike the classic default tone he had set for everyone else. 

From the other side of his room, Jungkook immediately pauses to look at it, the lit up screen glaring back at him from its idle place on his bedside table. He always leaves it there in the mornings, beside his rosary and the picture of his family, as he gets ready for work. 

He knows exactly who it’s from— after all, that’s what you wanted when you stylized your ringtone —which is why his hand trembles in excitement as he unlocks his phone. 

[❤️]: picnic tomorrow? 🥰

[❤️]: after my last class of course

Jungkook’s first thought is that this was a date, his first one with you since he had met you. His heartbeat hammers at the thought, at the mere suggestion that the two of you would be able to spend more time together this week outside of your usual weekend… acts. Additionally, if you’re asking him on a date, then surely it means you view Jungkook as a potential suitor, just as he does you? Do you want to maybe date Jungkook? Jungkook certainly wants to date you— in fact, if he starts gathering his courage now, he might be able to properly ask you out tomorrow. 

Jungkook’s second thought is of that guilty, gross feeling that’s been gnawing at his insides for three days now, and how it was inevitably going to get worse when he saw you again. 

He had lied to you, Jungkook recalls, sinking down against his mattress, shirt half buttoned, as he stares at the screen. He had lied to your face during a critical moment, had felt that seed of doubt in his chest blossom more than ever. And not only had Jungkook lied to you, but he had lied to you about his feelings toward you. How could he ever hope to hold you close, to date you, when he couldn’t even be honest with you?

The memory of your curious gaze presents itself at the forefront of his mind, the soft sound of your laughter ringing in his ears. 

You had been so sweet to him despite his blunder, had cupped his face and kissed him on the lips when he dropped you off outside your apartment. “Not today,” you crooned, unbuckling yourself as Jungkook’s eyes trailed over your throat— ignoring your cross —and down your chest. “I have schoolwork to catch up on. But soon, okay?” Another sweet peck had left him trailing after your touch, your finger bopping the tip of his nose playfully. “Call me when you get home.”

And because he was so terribly, irrevocably smitten with you, Jungkook had done as you said and called you. He’d called you and then had whimpered against his sheets as you generously talked him through another sinful deed. You had softly sighed his name over the line, told him he was handsome and that you missed him. That you wanted him in your mouth—

And of course, he had felt… something afterwards. 

This is where his dilemma begins: Jungkook had felt something afterwards, and he’s not sure if it had been entirely good or bad. The longer Jungkook stays around you, hangs out with you, does things with you— the more he can feel parts inside of himself change. Because after the phone call, Jungkook had felt two distinct emotions within himself, both of which were up for questioning. 

First, there was that one feeling he was becoming all too familiar with, the crushing guilt that would consume him following any sexual interaction with you or himself for that matter. Why was he like this? Why did he indulge himself in such heinous pleasures when he knew, knew better than anyone, what committing such acts meant for the future of his soul? He was practically dooming himself the way he was now, but Jungkook just didn’t understand— why did something so bad feel so good?

But alongside that gnawing guilt was this tiny, weirdly pleasant satisfaction, a gratification that superseded the relief felt by an orgasm. It was this oddly serene feeling that settled over Jungkook in the moments following a climax, the soft brush of your hands through his hair, the low lilt of your voice. They made him feel like he was floating on the softest of clouds, kissed and pampered by its wispy tendrils. It made something inside of Jungkook feel different, new. Good. 

(In the back of his mind, Jungkook realizes he’s always felt that way. At the height of his pleasure, at the faintest brush of your hands against his. It was a staple of your presence, one that made Jungkook feel like he was walking on air.)

From whatever angle he looked at it, it just didn’t make sense. They were contrasting emotions; while one made him feel godawful, the other one practically made him transcend. The fact they could coincide, exist all at once, had Jungkook’s brain folding in on itself as he tried to figure out why. They kept him up the last few nights, eyes blankly staring up at his ceiling following his evening prayers. Mulling over everything he’s ever learned and been told, always circling it back to your beautiful presence in his life. 

He knows sex in itself is not bad— after all, that was how the beautiful process of life came to be —but years upon years of studying his religion, cultivating his faith, had all led him to the same conclusion: premarital sex was wrong. And for the past few weeks, well. That’s all Jungkook had been doing with you. 

It seems like every time you meet, you’re dead set on pleasuring him, turning Jungkook into a shivering, teary-eyed mess while you grinned from above. That confused him too— as far as Jungkook knew, the whole point of sex was to chase after your own pleasure, something you admittedly did not do. It was always Jungkook’s pleasure, Jungkook’s enjoyment that you wanted, covering him in languid kisses and long caresses until he was inevitably shooting his hot cum all over your lap and into your hands. 

You had told him it was okay, that he should never feel bad for enjoying himself. But, to return back to his original dilemma, he doesn’t quite know if he can trust your word. 

You’re a liar, that much Jungkook can look past his rose-tinted glasses to admit. While you may not have lied to him (or at least, Jungkook wants to believe you haven’t), the fact still stands that you are quite willing to deceive others in order to get what you want. He already knows you aren’t the biggest believer of the Church yourself, that you frequently brush off your religious duties in order to fulfill your own desires— the aforementioned sexual cravings probably the biggest one —so, quite frankly, Jungkook is untrusting of the rest of your practices. Were you lying to him, telling him all was well, just for your own benefit? Just because you wanted to drag him along on your lustful adventures? He wasn’t sure, and as much as he wanted to trust you wouldn’t, there’s a shred of doubt that plagues him. 

But still. 

Regardless of whether you are a liar or not, that didn’t make it okay for Jungkook to lie to you.

He taps his phone against his chin, brain a frenzied mess. 

If Jungkook really wanted to pursue this relationship with you, he needed to be honest with himself and with you. Did it bother him that you were so flippant with the Church, the one he himself feels so devoted to? Yes and no. Jungkook has never been one to impress his beliefs on others, and truthfully, he would not be the slightest bit bothered if you don’t believe in the same things he does. Would there be some awkwardness in your relationship? Certainly, but at least Jungkook would know the real you from the very beginning. 

But to him, posing as an avid follower when you really aren’t rubs part of him the wrong way. He’s slightly put off by that aspect of you, and justifiably felt that anyone would feel such a way if someone were to use something they love as mere leverage for their own personal gain. And to make matters worse, now that he’s been made aware, it weighs down heavily on his conscience. 

Part of Jungkook, as selfish as it may be, wishes you had never revealed your secrets to him. He may have been left in the dark a total fool, but at the very least he would have been a happy fool. Would he still feel guilt about all the sexual deeds he’s partaken in with you? Sure, but at least he would only have himself to blame. The way things are now, he’s unsure who really needs to be condemned. 

Realistically, it is Jungkook’s fault. He knows how you are and even more, he knows you would never proposition him for any such sexual deed if he told you no, if he simply denied you. But he doesn’t tell you no, and that’s the problem: Jungkook really likes you as you are now, questionable behavior be damned. He likes you when you make him cry and when you pinch his cheeks and when you snake your hand down his pants. 

He still thinks you’re amazing, gets this fluttery feeling when you look at him with that sparkling gaze of yours. Your laughter makes him smile, even if you’re not laughing at something he said, because the sound is just so comforting, warm and soothing, makes his entire body relax when you chuckle. You have this gentle touch, these delicate hands that carefully comb his hair back for him in the car sometimes, tracing the side of his face softly. Your smile makes him dizzy, makes him want to cup your face in his hands and kiss you breathless. And, of course, he can’t complain about your… other talents when he’s only been on the beneficial receiving end of said talents. That aforementioned satisfaction, as small as it may be and as difficult as it was to admit to, was something Jungkook has begun to look forward to on the occasions that you meet. 

But his inability to overlook his own beliefs and your confusing nature brings about a great strife within Jungkook. It’s the reason he hesitates outside the church after dropping you off, his car running as he glares at his steering wheel. Everything in him says to go inside and confess to his sins, relieve himself of this overwhelming sense of guilt and shame to the closest person to his Lord. 

But he’s scared. 

Scared that, despite the oath of confidentiality, word will get out. His fellow brothers in faith will hear about what he’s done and call him out for his lecherousness. But even worse, he’s scared of what will happen to you. Would Jungkook’s life be over if he were thrown out of his beloved church? As dramatic as he may be, no. But he recognized that there were different standards to which men were held in this society, that an act of desire by him would not ruin his name the same way it would you. 

And Jungkook didn’t want that. He wanted to keep you safe. Wanted you to be happy and smiling, regardless of how conflicted it made him, because he likes you. He likes you so much, despite the fact he has yet to uncover the true extent of your character. 

But the cloud of mystery is partially what intrigues him, has him pondering over your very existence instead of getting ready for work as he is now. He’s terribly enamored, thinks about you and prays for you every night. So maybe Jungkook is still the fool, because he still daydreams about you when he knows he shouldn’t. 

His phone buzzes in his hand—

[❤️]: i miss you bunny ☹️

—and his decision is made. 

Tuesday passes by in a blur and before he knows it, it’s Wednesday afternoon and you’re texting him the location of one of the parks in the city. You had told him not to worry about the food because you would bring it. Jungkook’s only job was bringing the picnic blanket, a huge checkered thing he had spent all morning rifling through three stores for. He wants to impress you, desperately so, that he’s even wearing a nicer outfit today, darker tones unlike his normal warm palette because he had heard a woman at his job say men look cooler in dark colors. 

Suffice to say, he sticks out like a sore thumb at the park, the stark black of his jeans contrasting with the vibrant green of the neatly cut grass. Jungkook has half the mind to feel self-conscious about it, but then you’re calling his name from a couple meters away and his breath leaves his lungs. 

“Hi,” you greet, the handle of your wicker basket held tightly between two hands; Jungkook rushes to relieve you of the weight. “Did you wait long?” you ask, rewarding his gentlemanly behavior with a chaste kiss against the corner of his mouth that kick-starts his heart back into action and has his face burning up. 

In all honesty, you have never dressed very modestly— not that you had to, nor that there was anything remotely wrong with that. Jungkook has spent many a mass service fighting the urge to glance down the front of your dresses and tops, ignoring the cleavage you liked to show off now and then. But apparently, what Jungkook had seen up until now was your version of dressing modestly. The dress you show up with today, an off day where there are no church ladies to impress and no unspoken dress codes to follow, makes his brain short circuit. The thin, thin, straps that hold it up giving him an all access view to the broad expanse of your shoulders and chest and collarbones and boobs—

“No!” Jungkook rushes to reassure you, fighting down the blush that threatens to travel further down his neck when you carefully straighten out the collar of his shirt for him. “I- I, um, just got here.” 

You beam at the news. “I bought cheesecake,” you tell him, looping your arm through his as you tug him along. “I hope it hasn’t melted yet!”

By the time the two of you settle at a suitable spot near the lake, the cheesecake hasn’t melted. It’s still cold and solid, tastes like heaven on Jungkook’s tongue, and you laugh when his eyes light up. You look gorgeous like this, nestled against the checkered picnic blanket with a glass bottle of sparkling water in your hand, sandals just beside the edge of the blanket. There’s the faint chime of a bicycle bell somewhere to his left and the chatter of birds as they flock over the pond. Wonderful sights that would normally take his breath away and make him marvel at their beauty, but when you smile at him so gingerly like that, all Jungkook can think about is you. 

He watches you slip a strawberry past your lips. “Tell me about yourself,” you hum, seemingly out of the blue, wiping the corner of your mouth with one careful finger. “Other than, like, church stuff,” you tease. 

As you lean forward for another one, Jungkook’s brain stutters for a moment, eyes focused on the curves of your boobs as they naturally follow the movements of your upper body until he’s dizzy. “Huh?” he says, and you snort. “Oh— me, right, yes um—“

“Your favorite color?” you suggest, tugging the skirt of your dress tighter around your legs. It’s not cold, but there’s a slight breeze that keeps rolling over the two of you, pushing your floral scent over Jungkook and fluttering through his hair. “Right now, all I know is that you like cheesecake because you ate three slices at the bazaar the other week,” you chuckle.

It’s such a basic question, the bare minimum of knowing a person. But when you look at Jungkook like that, blinking those long lashes at him, it makes him forget his answer. “Um… Red,” he murmurs, watching you tug off the stem of the strawberry in your hands. “And white.”

You nod, and then you’re stretching a hand outward to offer him the aforementioned strawberry. When he doesn’t open his mouth right away, you silently demonstrate first, until Jungkook is slowly parting his lips and accepting your strawberry. The flavor bursts on his tongue, sweet and sticky, coating the very tips of your fingers when you don’t pull away fast enough. Jungkook averts his gaze when you pop them between your own lips and suck them clean. 

“Red and white,” you repeat, unaware of the lustful images that flicker through Jungkook’s mind, the way his eyes unconsciously drop to the front of your dress, at the crevice between your breasts that he remembers oh so well, the tight suction around his cock as you— “They make pink, which is my favorite color.” He desperately clears his mind of the memories that flash before his eyes. 

It’s a pretty color, fit for a pretty girl. Jungkook keeps the thought to himself as he watches you sift through the contents of your basket. It’s the perfect compliment to give you, he knows it’d make you happy, but his valor disappears when you throw him a soft grin and he’s transported back to a more recent memory, the memory in the car instead. 

A bad influence, he had called you, had watched your eyes well up with an emotion he had never seen on you before. Sadness? Disappointment? Disgust? He wasn’t sure, all Jungkook could really remember was the acidity on your tongue when you had repeated the words back to him, the ghost of your touch when you had abruptly pulled away from him, shut him out. He doesn’t think he’s ever seen you so closed off before, not even when he had first met you and you were parading around with that staged shyness. 

And even when Jungkook had corrected himself afterwards (read: lied to you to cover his tracks), the emotion had lingered. Even when you had playfully brushed him off, he had caught your reflection in the window beside you as he drove to your place. The sullen look on your normally happy face, lips down-turned, eyes lowered. A look he had put there. 

And now he’s watching you carefully rip apart bread to throw at the birds with a tender smile. A cloud moves and suddenly the sun is beating down on your little picnic again, casting a beautiful glow across your skin that renders him breathless for the shortest moment, trapped by the sheer beauty you exude. You’re absolutely ethereal, and yet he had questioned you. Your morals, your character, everything. 

“__?” he says before he can stop himself. 

You hum, “yes, bunny?” before pausing your little feeding task to glance back over at him. When you look at Jungkook like this, meet his gaze straight on, he doesn’t see an ounce of ingenuity in your eyes. It might be Jungkook’s lovesick heart speaking, but he can’t imagine you ever lying to him. He looks away first, frowning at the various fruits sprawled between the two of you. 

You care about him, that much Jungkook wants to believe. And his beliefs are confirmed, when your voice drops an octave lower, becomes softer, as you murmur, “is everything alright?” The fruits are carefully set aside, breaking the wall between the two of you until you can shuffle forward, your knees bumping against his. Hands reach for his, thumbs rubbing soothing circles against his skin. 

Before you can repeat your inquiry a second time, Jungkook finds himself asking, “do you like me?” 

Jungkook’s sudden inquiry makes your cheeks heat up just the slightest, your startled inhale barely contained. 

It’s like a scene straight out of a teenage romcom— a confession in a park, your hearts bared for each other. But it’s a little awkward, you have to admit, unintentionally giving Jungkook’s soft hand a nervous squeeze as his question rolls over in your mind. 

Duh, you want to say. But there’s something about the look in Jungkook’s eye— the eyes he very purposefully turns towards your hands, the hair he had let loose today providing him ample protection from your gaze —that has you pausing, carefully considering your next words. 

You had hoped by now that it was obvious, that Jungkook understood how much he meant to you, and didn’t require some dorky confession in the park. Partially because, well. This wasn’t your usual role. Usually, it was the guy confessing to you, raving about all your redeeming qualities in an effort to win you over. But with Jungkook, all you know about relationships is flipped upside down, forcing you to play a position you’ve never played before. 

Jungkook wasn’t like you; he was soft and sentimental, practically wore his heart on his sleeve for the whole world to see. And it was a massive heart, filled with so much love and adoration for the world around him, that you felt bad when he wore such sullen expressions on his face.

Expressions like the one he has now, lips pressed together tightly as he misreads your silence. He has honest eyes, a dark toffee color that sends tingles down your spine when he looks your way. They glimmer with a sort of innocence for the world, a thin sparkle that makes him look like a prince sometimes. He was devastatingly handsome, and now he was upset. “Um— it’s okay,” he stammers, trying to move the conversation along. But his eyes flicker around nervously, anxiously. Like your silence has left a burn mark on him, painful and delicate to the touch. 

His comment isn’t completely unexpected. How very on-brand for big-hearted Jungkook to try to save you from an uncomfortable interaction, even if it was caused by him. “Um…” he murmurs, “it’s okay. If you don’t, uh. Like me?”

It sounds flimsy, even to you. 

“No, no,” you rush to correct, your ability to speak slowly coming back to you only after the fact. “I do,” you admit, nerves on edge at this rather foreign situation. “I… like you a lot, Jungkook.”

You shouldn’t be surprised by his reaction. Jungkook blinks slowly, like his brain is still processing the information, and then, ever so artfully, goes up in metaphorical flames. “O- Oh,” he stutters, reaching a free hand up to press his knuckles against his face. The rosy hue that had first blossomed over his cheeks has now started crawling down his neck now, up his ears. It’s terribly endearing. “I— um. I didn’t know,” Jungkook rambles, and it’s so cute, so sweet, how a simple confession from you renders him this flustered.

His face emanates a warmth tangible even on your own skin, lips cutely quirking to the side as he fights off a bashful smile and the raging blush your words bring about. It certainly is a sight to see. His hair tickles his eyebrow, swept out of its usually neat style, but it makes him look all the more gorgeous. “Cute,” you chuckle, feeling the slightest bit shy at such a warm response from Jungkook. You sit back, giving him the space he needs, and turn your attention up at the big blue sky instead. “Really? I thought it was obvious,” you hum.

Part of you actually feels really awkward; as you said before, everything is so brand new with him.  With Jungkook, he flips everything around for you, makes you actually admit to your emotions as opposed to simply going along with his. It’s a nice change of pace, as difficult as it may be, and the results are rather… cute as well. (He bites down a smile, but the action makes his normally soft cheeks look more pronounced than usual.) 

“Because, I, um. Me too,” he says, voice wavering. He clears his throat and tries to meet your gaze under his fringe, but doesn’t last more than a second before he’s pointedly glancing at the picnic blanket beneath the two of you. “I’m— I like you too,” he admits, ears tinted a bright red. You figured as much but it was always nice to hear, especially from someone like Jungkook. “A lot.”

“Thanks,” you smile, placing a hand on his thigh. 

His lips pull into a shy smile, aimed at your knees because he can never look you in the eye when you shower him in praise and other gooey, mushy feelings. It’s the same in the car or against your front door— he always manages to give your hand a tight squeeze, maybe even a kiss if he’s feeling brave. But the second you try to tell him you’ve had fun or that you’ll miss him, it’s like all his courage fades away, leaving him a blushing, smiley mess.

He was cute like that. Despite being so kind and caring, it was like Jungkook’s entire being stopped functioning when those types of gestures were aimed at him. So you relished those moments, looked forward to them with a fluttery feeling in your heart that couldn’t be tamed. 

Today, he throws you for a loop. Just as that proud, giddy smile appears, cheeks and ears a pretty pink, it fades away. The excitement from your mutual confessions seems to remind Jungkook of something else, something less warm, that has him quietly mumbling, “I’m sorry.” 

It’s confusing, to say the least. Just a moment prior, he had been pursing his lips in a silly attempt to hold back a smile. Now he’s staring at the ground with a rather pensive look, his apology sitting heavy in his throat. “What for?” you tentatively ask after one long beat. It had been so sudden. In your mind, there isn’t a single reason for Jungkook to be apologizing to you, especially so out of the blue. There is, however, an inkling of fear brought upon by what can only be classified as insecurity; you had just confessed your feelings for each other, why was he sorry about that? 

Jungkook exhales, a quiet sound that is nearly lost among the bustling noises of the park. If you hadn’t been sitting so close, maybe you wouldn’t have heard it at all. “I just,” he huffs, pointedly glaring at some random spot of grass beside you. His features look sharper than ever now, jawline defined, brows narrowed together. It’s a rather misplaced realization, but Jungkook looks absolutely gorgeous with distress painting his face. “I was… being selfish before.”

In the few weeks you’ve known him, you’ve come to realize Jungkook was many things. First and foremost, he’s an absolute gentleman. Raised on manners and compassion, looking after others everywhere he went. He was caring and sweet, loved this world and the people in it so much. Soft-spoken but straightforward. He was dreamy, disgustingly so. 

But selfish? It definitely sounds like something Jeon Jungkook is not. 

Before you can interrogate him even further, it seems like Jungkook is dead set on getting through this alone. “I- I’m sorry,” he repeats, eyes downcast. Noticing his wavering confidence, you resign yourself to listening, hand giving him a reassuring squeeze. Finally, after a short moment, Jungkook murmurs, “...in the car.” You tilt your head to the side curiously, waiting for him to go on. “I said, um. Something rude.” 

It takes a moment for the memory to load, and when it finally clicks into place and begins rolling, you find yourself muttering a faint, “ah.” 

If it’s what you think it is, he’s talking about last weekend outside of the church. That terribly awkward encounter that had left a sour taste in your mouth afterwards. A bad influence, you recall him saying, the memory of his voice looped in your mind the entire drive to your place. 

In all honesty, it had stung a little. While you were aware that Jungkook had an ongoing mental battle, you hadn’t realized your role was that big in it. It’s the reason you had sent him home that day, made up a lie about schoolwork just to give him some space. It’s nothing new, everyone’s had someone think badly of them before; gossipy classmates, rivals, maybe even random strangers on the street. But it felt different when it was coming from someone as sweet as Jungkook, so polite and righteous, who wouldn’t even hurt a fly. Like he was stating a fact, not an opinion. 

It was a slip-up on Jungkook’s end, that much you could tell. Because he had been frantic to correct himself afterwards, had looked at you with these fearful eyes, like one wrong move and you’d slip from between his hands. Luckily, you weren’t that sensitive— definitely not as sensitive as him, at least —and such a comment had been practically meaningless moments later. 

Still, in those few moments where it was meaningful (read: the short period it took for Jungkook to get home and call you, the words looping around your brain until the harsh ring of your cell phone finally interrupted), it had left you wondering. Have you been pushing him too far, asking for too much? The way you saw it, you always gave Jungkook room to object to any of your advances. You know he’s trapped in his thoughts more often than not, but you pay attention to him, you really do. You make sure to take his reactions into account, try to offer solutions where possible. But, for the briefest moment, all of those efforts had felt fruitless that day in the car. 

What you say next is not a complete lie; sure, Jungkook’s comment had hurt for a bit, but here he was now apologizing for it. That was a good sign… right? “It’s okay,” you brush off, patting his cheek softly, hoping with every fiber in your being that it really was okay.

Your voice is gentle, soothing his doubts. Just moments prior, Jungkook had felt like he was asking for too much, especially when your feelings toward him were up in the air. But your earnest confession soothed the ache in his heart. It’s all he’s wanted these past few months, to belong in your heart like you do his. 

But the guilt from before, the tumultuous feelings he’s been harboring towards you since the weekend, dampens his excitement. From your confession alone, it doesn’t seem like you questioned Jungkook. You weren’t put off by who he was, what he loved. So why couldn’t Jungkook be like you, think like you?

“I’m still sorry,” he says again, feeling like a broken record when he catches this sympathetic smile on your face. The scraps of eloquence he had gathered while originally apologizing seem to fade away, leave him a stuttering mess when he tries again. “That was— I shouldn’t have said—“

“Hey,” you cut off, placing a hand against his cheek. It stops his fidgeting, forces him to meet your gaze head on. There’s a smile on your face but something inside of Jungkook says it doesn’t feel real. “I like you, Jungkook.” 

And it’s true and genuine, your words so honest it pains him to think he had ever thought otherwise. And you’re still smiling, even after being hit with the implication that Jungkook questioned your character and maybe that’s what hurts the most. That you still try to put on an easygoing expression for him after he’s said something hurtful. It’s the car all over again, that blank look in your eyes when he had spoken carelessly. 

Before he can apologize for the umpteenth time, you’re shaking your head softly, smiling anew. But this time, he can’t tell if it’s real or not. “I brought orange juice,” you say, expertly moving the conversation along. And just as Jungkook has been thinking for weeks now, it’s like you know him so well. You know when things make him anxious or uncomfortable, know just how to help him out. 

There’s a feeling of guilt that blossoms in his chest, but this time it’s different. 

It’s not the usual sticky gross feeling of before, the one that has him staying up at night repenting for all his wrongdoings. It’s a personal kind of guilt that comes along with the frank realization that, while you have been learning and adapting to being around Jungkook, he has not been doing the same for you. 

Though you may be a little playful at times, you don’t tease him for who he is, don’t stomp all over his beliefs as much as he deluded himself into thinking you do. (That whole, faux-believer thing was a different circumstance.) Like with the cross in his house the other day. As much as Jungkook wanted to believe what you had done was evil, he had, quite honestly, enjoyed himself afterwards. There wasn’t that heavy discomfort sitting on his chest anymore, that sense of shame lingering as you’d kissed his body and let him caress yours too, in the safety of your eyes only. It was enjoyable and fun, had felt exhilarating to be so intimate with you. 

And instead of being thankful for your mindful efforts, he had questioned your sincerity. 

The picnic goes by in a flash. Jungkook is sad he can’t enjoy it to the fullest, his brain filled with clamorous thoughts that circled around to torture him every few minutes. Still, the entire date feels like a dream, vibrant and beautiful, leaving him in a daze. He doesn’t want to wake up. 

By the time you suggest wrapping up, the sun is setting over the horizon, the windows and lights of the buildings around you slowly flickering to life like a sea of tiny stars. He feels weak in the knees as he helps you pack everything back in your basket. “All set,” you smile, walking beside him, knuckles brushing against his until you fulfill Jungkook’s wordless wish and slip your hand into his. 

Jungkook agrees, hoping his hand isn’t sweaty and that you mean what you say. “I- I liked the food,” he remembers to mention, the fact that you had so carefully and lovingly prepared all this not entirely lost on him. His compliment, as simple as it may be, has you beaming at him as you exit through the park’s front gates. His car is parked along the street, the sleek vehicle coming into view as you round the street corner, hands still fastened. “Um,” he mumbles, pausing beside it. You turn to face him, eyes clear and content. 

All good things come to an end, he supposes, reluctantly letting go of your hand when you tug. “I’ll see you soon, okay?” you say, stepping up close, chest pressed against his. His breath hitched in his throat, eyes going wide when you nuzzle against his neck. Your hands slip around his waist. They wrap around him perfectly, make Jungkook feel like he was made for you. 

By the time he’s springing into action, jerkily raising his free hand up to your back, you’re stepping away. “Call me when you get home,” you wink, sending shivers down his spine when he remembers what happened the last time you said that. 

But Jungkook doesn’t think he can wait that long. 

You’re slipping further and further away, fingertips just barely brushing against his forearm, when Jungkook jolts into action. “How are you, um—“ he stammers, feels too big for his shoes when you tilt your head curiously. And then, “d- do you need a ride?” he mumbles, cheeks warm. 

It’s a feeble attempt at asking what he really wants. Offering you a ride home, while not a bad idea considering it was late and you had taken the bus here, is nowhere near what Jungkook really wants. What he wants is standing before him, thin spaghetti strap slipping down their shoulder, eyes sensually half-lidded and you know this too— because, again, you know Jungkook so well, know what he wants even if he can’t say it —as you step into his bubble again, peer up at him with your arms held behind your back. 

“A ride home?” you ask, blinking your long lashes in a way that robs him of his breath. And he can see that switch flick on inside of you, watches that pure and innocent gleam in your eyes slowly become replaced with something mischievous. Jungkook nods dumbly. “I’d love that.”

Jungkook blinks. “Great,” he chokes out, neatly dropping the wicker basket in his hands. In a way, it brings him back down to reality, lets him snap away from your hypnotizing gaze as he reaches for the keys in his pocket. “Let me— I just have to— yeah,” he stammers, clicking the button on his car keys one too many times, has it perkily beeping. Your lips press together into an amused smile, the last thing Jungkook sees before ripping himself away from you and yanking the back door open. 

He nearly throws the basket in like a madman, glassware be damned. It’s his last shred of rationality that tells him not to, the hairs on the back of his neck standing on edge as he steps up to the edge of the sidewalk and carefully places it on the floor behind the passenger’s seat. 

When Jungkook rises back up, there is a hand that brushes against his forearm, a gentle touch that has him throwing a curious glance your way. He’s not expecting to be so entranced by the dreamy look in your eyes, feet glued to the ground as you trail your hand down, catching his wrist between your fingers. You’re standing so close, making Jungkook feel like he’s trapped between you and his own car. His entire body is on edge when you lean in, placing a soft kiss against the very corner of his mouth. It leaves a tingling sensation, and accompanied with the growing warmth beneath his skin, feels like he’s been burned. “I had fun,” you murmur, voice low. It sends a shock of electricity down his spine, a wave of exhilaration that has him fully turning to face you as you eventually step away, that same playful grin on your features again. 

A surge of confidence and greed overcomes him, has him stepping forward into your space despite the nervousness that builds within him. There’s a hint of surprise in your eyes that you quickly mask, placating his bumbling nerves with a delicate hand placed over his heart. He can’t breathe when you lean in, softly humming, “kiss me?” 

Jungkook’s lower lip wobbles. “O- Okay,” he concedes, voice but an airy whisper that is soon swallowed up. You taste like fruit and orange juice, remnants of your picnic clinging to your lips as you slowly consume Jungkook’s entire attention with this soft brush alone. It’s a rather short affair, one that ends all too soon when you pull away with a soft sigh against his lips. 

Your smile is so pretty when you angle it at him, has him taking one jerky step backwards. His back hits the car, feels trapped. But he isn’t scared, doesn’t find himself anxiously awaiting your next move. “Good boy,” you purr, reaching one graceful hand forward, playfully tugging at his tie, wrapping it around your knuckles as you use it as leverage to pull him close again. 

You’re just so pretty, Jungkook has always thought so. From the moment he first met you until now, there is something about you—a glint in your eyes, a quirk to your lips—that has had him under your spell for weeks now. 

Had Jungkook seriously despised you and your ethics, perhaps this feeling would have gone away. But the fact of the matter is that you make Jungkook’s heart hammer dangerously in his chest, a shot of adrenaline through his veins when you look at him with those low-lidded eyes, touch him with those experienced hands. He wants you so bad, even after all he’s learned, all he’s seen. He wants you over him and under him, pressed against him from head to toe. He wants and he wants, and he knows it’s bad to want so much, to be so greedy. But with you around, Jungkook finds himself giving into that greed, clutching at it like a lifeline. “We can, um—,” he stammers, placing one uncertain hand against the top of the door frame beside him. You raise your brows, egging him on yet patiently waiting all at once. 

Your gaze is so strong, and it’s in moments like these that Jungkook feels that feeling crawl up his throat. A serpentine gaze, a sticky sweet tongue. Everything he’s ever known says it’s wrong, but his heart and your confession says otherwise. He looks away, throws a bashful glance at the plush leather seats behind him. “In… inside?”  

And the offer has you positively beaming before him, that same flirtatious shimmer in your irises doubling at the words that roll off his tongue. “Oh my,” you swoon playfully, stepping back to, Jungkook assumes, allow him to get in. 

He plops down, feels like he would break out in a sweat if the evening temperature wasn’t so cool. The car’s interior blends into the shadows, his clothing practically indiscernible against the dark shade of the seats. A stark contrast to the pretty floral dress that suddenly spills itself over his lap when you climb in, the door tugged shut beside the two of you. All is silent, your thighs over his, hands on his shoulders. “Hi, bunny,” you murmur, lips pulled into a smirk, provocative yet playful, like you know something that Jungkook doesn’t. 

Jungkook’s throat feels dry but he still manages to gulp. He’s drowning in your perfume and your body lotion, in the faint smell of the outdoors clinging to your clothes and your hair, the absolutely heavenly scent of just you in your entirety. “Hi,” he whispers back, voice lost beneath the thundering of his heartbeat in his ears. And his quiet greeting is rewarded with two soft hands that crawl up his neck, cupping his face in their palms. 

“You were so sweet today,” you purr, nose nudging against his when you finally lean in, pressing your breasts against Jungkook. A tiny gasp catches in his throat, his hands instinctively going to your waist. “Can I kiss you again?” 

Jungkook has never wanted anything more. “Please,” he exhales, feeling like he’ll explode if you don’t kiss him soon. You take his request in stride, jut your face forward just the slightest bit until your mouth is pressed firmly against his, the movement of your lips a practiced rhythm that he just can’t seem to master. He still tries his best, puckers his lips when he feels it’s right, tilts his head when you urge him with a soft nudge. He tries his best and hopes it’s enough. 

By now, Jungkook has come to understand that there is a pattern to your kisses. You always start off slow and relaxed, mouth languidly moving against his as you lure him across a tightrope of anticipation. They gradually become more intense, pulling out whimpers and sighs from Jungkook that he had never known were possible. It’s a carefully crafted art form, the tongue that slides out from between your pillowy lips, dips into his own mouth with a giggly pant. “Good boy,” you hum in between, hands burying themselves in the hair at the nape of his neck. “Always so good.”

Jungkook shudders when you eventually part, can’t catch his breath fast enough before you’re reaching for the buttons on the front of his shirt, easily undoing the casual tie too. “Relax,” you tell him, bypassing his lips for the warm expanse of skin just below. You kiss over his chin, down his neck, as your hands crawl beneath his shirt and around his naked waist. 

He’s ticklish, and when you brush against his ribs, he unwillingly releases a sharp huff of laughter. It’s followed by a wide-eyed look of embarrassment, cheeks a warm hue when you lean back in surprise at this new bit of information. “I— sorry,” he blurts out, because he doesn’t know proper make-out etiquette, doesn’t know anything really, except what you’ve shown him. 

But the sound makes you snort, looking at him with this gaze that drips with honey. “So cute,” you tell him, placing a chaste kiss against his lips, before disappearing back down to lavish his throat with filthier kisses. And with you laving your tongue across his skin, biting at every inch available, Jungkook is left to fuzzily stare over the crystal clear windshield. He’s struck with the faint realization that if someone were to look hard enough, they would see him through the tinted glass as he fell apart into the hands of a pretty girl. 

The soft smack of your lips against his skin is sensual, makes every hair on his body stand stiff. Your lips trail down the column of his neck, placing a bruising kiss at the juncture where it meets the rest of his body. “Oh,” he sighs, eyelids fluttering when a hand squeezes at his chest, thumb against his nipple. 

Another muffled giggle pressed against the base of his neck, and when Jungkook focuses his eyes again, he catches his own gaze in the rearview mirror. 

The sight of him is… weird to say the least. 

Even in the dark, his lips look thoroughly debauched, puffier and redder than usual, slick with saliva that isn’t entirely his. He doesn’t tell himself to, but his mirrored counterpart peeks his tongue out, runs it along his top lip sinfully. Startled by his own appearance, Jungkook jolts in place, feeling you shift in his lap with a soft little whine. “Bunny,” you frown, and Jungkook watches your side profile in the tiny mirror as you sit back up, press your lips against his ear. “Sit still for me,” you tell him, hand slithering up his chest, around his throat. Over his Adam’s apple, squeezing just the slightest. It’s not tight, but it knocks the air out of his lungs when he sees the action mirrored back at him on the reflective surface. 

That familiar guilt sticks in his throat, evident when your hand slips away and he swallows harshly, the protrusion just beneath his skin bobbing up and down. 

In the back of Jungkook’s mind, he can recall the religious story that surrounded this bodily feature; a sin and the consequence. A garden and a fruit, a beautiful woman by his side. 

Your hand creeps down between your bodies, palming over his quickly fattening cock, and Jungkook swears he sees stars, a strained whimper escaping from his lips that you giggle at. “Oh my,” he huffs, clutching at the skirt of your dress. You nuzzle close again, pressing a tender kiss against the side of his neck. 

Your hands are so soft and sweet, brushing over his cock like you’re simply caressing him out of adoration and not because you want him to cum, staining his seats and your dress. Either way, Jungkook can’t even begin to imagine what you must be thinking; before the date and his confession, he had been afraid that you would discard him. Maybe Jungkook wasn’t what you wanted, maybe he wasn’t what you needed. You were so confident in yourself and your actions, a stark contrast to Jungkook and his constant uncertainty, his fear of doing the wrong thing plaguing him at all hours of the day. 

Even now, with your hands expertly tugging his zipper down, he finds himself going back to that story. That apple in the garden, the consequences it had hailed. Never mind the fact you’re on top of him, claiming to like him, with your hands touching every inch of his skin. He keeps looping back to that Biblical verse instead, thinks about it when your fingers meanly let the elastic band of his briefs snap against his skin. “Ouch,” he flinches, voice a soft whine. He turns too quickly and too suddenly, nose bumping against yours because you’re still so close. 

You smile, puckering your lips for the lightest of kisses. It’s the little things like that that make Jungkook’s entire thought process stall, distantly aware of the fact that it’s, like always, you leading the majority of your encounters once again. Even during your picnic, it had been you who had practically held his hand as you navigated through basic information, asked for his favorite color and his favorite drink. Had it not been for your own proactive tendencies, Jungkook fears he would have never known your favorite color was pink or your favorite day of the week was Thursday. 

It’s a fact that makes him pause, jaw tightening as he once again realizes how little effort he was putting into knowing you. For someone who claimed to like you a lot, he rarely did the work to prove it. Even now, he’s too unsure of who he is and who you are to indulge you properly, instead watching you lead the scene as usual. Before he can stop himself, a sigh is escaping his lips. 

It must convey his emotions perfectly, because it’s enough to make your wandering hands pause by his waist. “Everything okay?” you ask, always knowing what he’s feeling. And it sucks that he couldn’t say the same for himself. 

“N— Yes,” he rushes to say, looking up at you with round eyes, the moonlight painting half of your face a paler color than usual, the other side shrouded in darkness. It makes your eyes look darker, makes Jungkook gulp loudly when you turn those inquisitive eyes on him. 

His answer doesn’t seem to convince you, and it’s with little to no hesitation that you sit back. It puts a distance between the two of you that Jungkook can’t say he’s a fan of. “Jungkook,” you say, voice stern yet warm, one hand reaching up to brush your knuckles against his cheek. “Tell me what’s bothering you?” 

It makes Jungkook nervous. He knows he thinks too much. Part of him fears that oversharing with you will drive you away, put you even farther than you are now. Maybe next time it’ll be a room’s length away, a football field’s length away. And he doesn’t want that; he wants to hold you close, he really does. But there are traditions he carries and beliefs he holds dearly that make it hard for him to do so, as much as it pains him. 

The only reason he knows he’s frowning is because you press your pointer finger against the corner of his mouth. You lean in close, nose bumping against his. It sends your scent billowing over him, makes him dizzy when he becomes aware of the hand he’s got on your bare thigh, the rumpled skirt of your dress pushed away. “Talk to me, bunny,” you murmur. You don’t make a move to kiss him, a fact that Jungkook feels both grateful and disheartened by. “Please?”

And he can’t deny you, not when you ask so nicely. You have this metaphorical grip on Jungkook, a tight hold around his throat that has made him act impulsively these past few weeks, desperate to be with you, to please you. Even now, despite how much he wants to withhold his thoughts, he finds himself quietly admitting them instead. “I want to know you,” he mumbles, unable to meet your eye. You don’t push him to. “I really, um. I like you, __. A lot.” It’s a repetition of his earlier confession. And still, it makes him nervous. A thumb brushes against his cheekbone, encouraging him to meet your solemn gaze even if it means being a blushing mess afterwards. “Before we, uh, do… things.” 

His words may be choppy and incoherent, but you understand him all the same. “You want to go out some more,” you clarify, removing your hand from his cheek. The phantom trail of your fingertips on his skin remains, feels colder when you lean away to allow him some more space. 

Jungkook nods quickly, hoping this rush of adrenaline might help him through this. He bites down on his lower lip, carefully analyzing your expression for any signs of disbelief or disgust. But all he sees is understanding, a cool expression that makes Jungkook’s heart thunder. “I…,” he says, glancing down at where he’s still got his hand on your naked skin. Something inside of him tells him to rub his thumb across it, an action he doesn’t think through until he hears a sharp inhale, watches goosebumps rise over the skin. “I’m sorry,” he rushes out, snatching his hand away before he can do something else of a similar sort. “I- I just—“ said hand now waves around wildly beside him “—I really like you, as a, um— uh. A person. And I—“ and this is where he becomes aware of his unbuttoned shirt and the way you’ve got your pretty pussy pressed against his thigh now “—I, um. I want to know me— I mean, you —better? More? Like—“

His embarrassing babbling is cut off with a gentle kiss to his lips. No tongue, no saliva. Just soft lips against his, a delicate hand against his shoulders. When you pull away, Jungkook unconsciously trails after the touch, eyes half-lidded and in a daze when you place a palm on his chest. “I got it,” you say, lips quirking into a tiny smile. “I want to know more about you too, bunny,” you admit, reaching for the front of his shirt. He watches on with flushed cheeks as you slowly button it up for him, finishing it off with a playful tap against the underside of his chin. 

You glance out of the window thoughtfully. Jungkook is suddenly reminded of how pretty you are, your skin practically glimmering under the pale moonlight. It catches on your necklace, a thin chain with a cross on the end. If he focuses his eyes behind you, his own reflection stares back once more. Jungkook’s entire body threatens to lock up tightly, but a single kiss on the cheek from you interrupts the process. “Do you wanna date?” you ask, like it’s the easiest thing in the world. 

Jungkook can’t agree fast enough. “I— yes,” he gasps, leaning forward too suddenly. It makes you flinch back in surprise, back pressing up against the driver’s seat behind you in surprise. You wouldn’t have fallen or anything, but Jungkook reacts like it was a serious possibility anyway, grasping at your waist and pulling you snug against him, soft thighs sandwiching his tiny waist. “Oh, God,” he frets, immediately moving to release you. 

But you catch him with two arms thrown around his neck, pulling Jungkook close to you for another kiss. Deeper and… meaningful, your satiny lips carefully slotted against his. While it surprises him at first, Jungkook finds himself melting into it soon enough. This was okay, he tells himself, and for the first time in a few weeks, he finds himself believing it. 

It was just kissing— intimate yet appropriate kissing —between two people who were seeing each other. Him, properly seeing you. His heart threatens to burst out of its cage for a second. It’s the first time since he’s met you that he can fully say he hadn’t felt nervous about his actions, hadn’t felt like he was committing some grave sin for chasing after your touch. It was just a kiss, simple and sweet, making both of you smile bashfully when you eventually pull away. There was no lying and no guilt, no tears and no stress. 

It felt good.

Copyright © 2020, 1kook on tumblr. absolutely NO reposts allowed.

[snailsgoingdowntown]

Safer without | yan! Eula

Yandere! Eula x gender neutral! Reader

Warnings: general yandere themes, technically captive reader, implied blackmail, and threats, forced ‘relationship’, Eula being an outcast (I can’t remember the word for being shunned by society), toxic relationship, toxic behavior, unhealthy mindset, obsessive behavior.

Disclaimer: I do NOT condone any of the actions or behaviors that take place in this piece of fiction. None of this should be considered romantic or even normal as it is extremely toxic and dangerous. This is NOT a healthy relationship.

Kinda edited.

734

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 Eula was beautiful and unique, just like a snowflake on a snowy day. With hair as blue as the sky and personality as icy as a snowstorm, she is beautiful. Beautiful and experienced in things she should not be but is regardless because of society is to those who stand out. Despite Mondstat being called “The City of Freedom,” they do not tolerate anyone from the Lawance family. Because in their eyes, simply being born into it is a sin itself.

Which is why you felt sorry for her, if you’re being honest. You saw how the citizens treated her, like an outcast despite how hard she tired to get rid of that title. She was always so lonely, being cast aside by her family after joining the knights, and the citizens giving her hateful looks and words once she stepped foot into the city. They blame her for something that took places centuries ago, for something that she could not control even if she wanted to. How can one control what happened before they were even born?

It would only make sense that sooner or later, she would lose sight of herself in some way – or maybe, she was always like this?

Whatever it was, you would grow to despise her.

You were not the first to be kind towards her, far from it. Amber and her grandfather where there for her when she was younger. Jean was there to accept her as knight, and so was Varka. Diluc…he admires how far she has come, to an extent, but despises the fact she joined the knights. And given his past with them, it makes sense, but in a way, that makes him like every other citizen out there.

And you wish that you were like them as well back then, ignoring her every time she accidentally made eye contact. And maybe then you would not be in this situation, held captive and unable to escape her clutches. Sure, she would let you walk around the city and such, but with… restrictions. Restrictions that required the eyes and ears of those who feared her enough to listen.

“I should have listened to everyone who warned me of you. You are just as icy as the cryo element that you wield.”

Your voice is firm, fingers flipping pages in a book you were barely paying attention to. The window lets the sunshine through, and Eula takes another sip of her tea. The reports she was writing suddenly seems to turn into a mush of words she doesn’t understand. Your sudden comment shakes her internally, but you know she’ll try to shake it off. She was used to doing that.

“Is that so? I am very aware of how others perceive me, and I should have expected you would come to see me in the same light as them. It is not a surprise but is still rather heartbreaking.”

“You have a heart?”

You try to hold in your snort, her reaction what you expected it to be. Her body freezes and she drop her pen. But as quickly as she loses her composer, she regains it. “Why yes, I do. Otherwise, I would have not confessed that night. Although, it is understandable as to why you would think that – “

“Considering what you have done to me?” you interrupt. You flip the page, sighing. You gave up on trying to convince her to leave you alone, much less actually let you go. She would just find you, anyway, hunting you down like a bloodhound. And even if you managed to tell others of her cruel actions towards you, she has people like Amber and Jean on her side. Two people that everyone likes.

That everyone would listen to.

And you know for a fact that they would not believe you.

“It is all for your safety,” she replies, and with that said, picks up her pen and resumes writing her report. All is silent, for a while. Flipping another page, you think of ways to get your own revenge, but cannot think of a solid plan. While you can ignore her, reject her advances and love, it will not change the fact that she has you physically, locked up in this cage that’s called Mondstat. Even if your words are as sharp as swords, she won’t let you go.

“I would be safer without you.”

[nofoundboy]

The only people in the world

845 words

No tw just a little angsty

Carrie x Transmasc reader

I suck at titles, sorry

“Did I hurt you?” you asked softly, putting your hand on the shoulder of the blonde.

“Not at all” she answered with her eyes stuck on the floor and a pink blush in her cheeks.

You loved those calm moments where you could see Carrie being herself without worrying about her mother. She was so sweet and seemed so at peace when she was with you.

You were outcasts, and you tried to protect her of your classmates. You were used to being bullied, but you couldn’t help to get mad whenever they did something against Carrie.

Also, you knew very well what could happen to you if you embraced the fact that you were a man who was born female, but you simply couldn’t understand why such a beautiful person like Carrie could be bullied and mistreated. Yes, she was born in a very broken family with a deeply broken mother, but it wasn’t in any way her fault.

“Well, then you’re ready” you whisper. You wanted to touch her hair again, you had dreamed of it but you would hate yourself for making your friend uncomfortable. You care deeply for her, and you preferred to be at her side being nothing more than a friend than scare her away with your feelings.

“Could you…braid my hair?” she asked shyly, making you blush. You loved when Carrie asked you for help with something. You were inclined to the thought of yourself like her knight in shining armor.

“Of course,” you said softly working on her hair.

You loved the feeling of her hair between your fingers, it was just so soft, so bright, and smelled so good. To you, she was like a fairy, bright and ethereal.

“Do you like it?” you kept your hands on her shoulders, she was looking at your mirror with a big smile. That was the best part of spending time with Carrie outside the school and far away from her house.

“I…I love it” she whispered looking at her face, now clear without her hair. “Do you think I’m pretty?” at this point, it wasn’t even a question, it was a fact that you wished her and every other person in the world to know.

“No… You’re beautiful, Carrie “ you whispered. You changed your position and take her hand between yours. She was frozen in her seat, looking at your hands, at your fingers intertwined, and stealing glances of your eyes, full of devotion for her.

“Thanks…” her voice was trembling and appeared that she didn’t even want to be listened to.

“You…you are like a prince” you had never seen a person with that type of red in their cheeks. It was plain crimson.

Even so, it was your turn of turning red, you felt that heat in your neck and ears too, but instead of looking like a majestic statue-like her, you giggled awkwardly while looking at the other side of the room.

She also started to laugh softly at that weird way of yours of accepting compliments.

That not only gave you an idea but also gave you the courage of declaring your feelings.

“You…I mean…you could be my princess…” you swear that you felt the way your heart skipped a beat at your boldness. Or maybe it was just stupidity. Either way, you wanted to die. That courage had just vanished and was being replaced with shame. You have ruined everything.

“Do you mean it?” she was looking like an angel, a beautiful one painted by Michel Angelo. It was real? It was happening outside of your mind? The feeling of her grip tight around your hand was very real. Maybe you had died and gone to heaven.

“I-Yes!...I’m very serious” you said in a whisper. Carrie’s eyes, so blue and bright pierced your skull with a cocktail of emotions. In the end, she decided that your words were true. You of all people couldn’t lie to her.

“Hold me…please” it was half a whisper, half a scream. You couldn’t believe your ears.

But your body had ached for those words, for that contact, so long…

So you threw your hands around her slim frame, pressing your chest against hers, feeling her heart fluttering furiously, rivaling with your own. She felt so small in your arms, so precious and cold. You smelled her hair once more, it tickled against your left cheek and her breath on your right side made your knees weak.

You wanted to heat her body with your own, like the way she heats your heart with her mere existence.

“Thank you” her voice is flooded with hiccups and sobs. You always let her cry, she needed so much. It was painful to see, so much that some days you just wanted to run away with her. Push her away from her mom and the school.

But, obviously, you couldn’t, so the two of you just had that little moment, where you were in each other’s arms, being the only two people left in the world. And so, so happy.

[tribus-mantodea]

[ Memories of the discarded. ]

I’ve been holding onto these but uhhoohogh it’s time for some awkward headcanons again!

Today’s session brought to you by: tentative thoughts centering the Mantis Child.

(In which for me, she was born pre-traitor arc.)

With mutual respect and consent came her^TM, but it was an ultimately loveless cause. Nothing more than a simple bond between two strong(?) mantids. Well. That said, he’s not a bastard and had taken due care of both partner and child when the time came (where the sisters had also doted and loved her).

I will add that while he did betray his tribe at some point for various reasons while still keeping enough of his mind, she had the choice to either stay or go. Feeling it wrong to do otherwise, she had reluctantly left with him and the defectors on her own volition. In part to see it through, and in knowing and being warned that the associations would be... gray, so to speak, if she did stay. So she couldn’t really be considered part of them anymore after choosing beasts over the village.

-

(...and the phrasing is the Traitors’ Child, rather than Traitor’s.)

Thereby, I enjoy implying that the mantises are fairly cool-knit with each other internally — at least up to an extent, or perhaps in some idea that any offspring of a Lord would be considered part of the tribe/everyone’s.

In turn. Though she did not take the infection like the outcasts had (they respected her will, at least — it was more than enough that she came with them anyhow), they treated her just like how they did when they were not traitors: as if she were their own.

And it’s quite the fun thought, really, to imagine her tiredly and quietly watching her kin slowly accept more of this sweetly foul thing and be more aggressive than they normally would be. Though they held familiarity and a degree of kindness in the initial phase of their exile, she still felt an uncomfortable uncertainty she couldn’t place. Where interactions grew a bit more sternly, hinted with resentment at the existing reminder that they all chose to take the infection even when the Daughter held on her own (albeit not without struggle).

-

It’s equally fun to imagine that as soon as she died, they started their downhill collapse into the unhinge.

Rather than have her die at her own father’s hands by some whacky rage/misunderstanding, I like to think that at some point they kind of... well, being influenced by the Radiance, I’d like to think that their disdain for anything regarding Hallownest intensified, resulting in them defiling and ransacking the gardens of the Queen since Man She’s Right There (and if not that, then just a hint of a whisper directing them to said area that so happened to be her domain) and their thoughts had grown more swayed.

So she didn’t have to accompany any battle, really, and she especially had some conflict when her own lover admitted her allegiance to Hallownest and here she was trying to keep things under wraps. But she still remembered how fondly she was treated, and so came the feeling of obligation to go.

One thing led to another, and she fell by Dryya’s nail, quickly noticed by the Traitor Lord after she was thrown to the side like she were any other mantid that had clashed with the fiercely loyal protector. And she does remember the brief tell in passing from the other knight, “Che’ found fondest affection for a mantis, different.” Remembered after hearing the roar that halted their fight, where the Lord swung back one of his own kin when they did not seem well enough to heed the order out of both insanity and rage.

The traitor tribe had a screaming headache that they were to kill and continue onwards, but their Lord held on enough to deny them of that. Had managed to get across to the despicable knight following lies that he would — will — bury their beloved Daughter before returning to conclude. It was in no way advantageous to say this and actually follow through in a brief retreat, but he did brush off the hint of appreciation that her corpse wasn’t outright dismembered (somehow).

So right after they could complete said burial in a place they suspected to be most frequented by her (and perhaps another) alongside the surface precaution of thorns, well...ya know. They lost their reminder, their reason; at that point, it was easier to mentally influence the traitor tribe with all the nonsense that came along with the infection. Hallucinations, loudening suggestions, muddled thoughts, the works.

They are led to believe at this point there was no going back and that their tribe would certainly not take them back, so they gave in entirely and lost rationality where not even the Lord himself could remember where the grave they made was at some point (aside from a memory that it’s within these very gardens).

-

(Miscellaneous | Mantis Lords)

I’d like to also think that the sisters had kept some sort of tabs on the traitor tribe, though they did not directly see to them. A group of scouts here, a hunt to check there; they at least had a vague understanding of where the mantid and beasts had taken territory to. 

Concerning the grave, I would like to assume that they do know, but as for how they know... I’d want to say either by word or by an unfortunately-timed and poor impression of meeting Ze’mer, stuck in mourning. It isn’t as if all of the Lords could go and see it, so it’d be a rather one-by-one basis just to acknowledge the fact, if at all.

Also I double-like to think that they could demolish the fourth throne entirely if they so wanted to, but they kept it to serve as a reminder of failure/what could come to their tribe (and in an unspoken yet vain hope). Fun memories/regrets for the whole kin! :D

or something. um

okay listen I already said my interpretations might be a bit too indulgent on the family-loving side, but I hope that makes sense enough? haha ooohg...

I just want a bit of happiness here and there before it turns outright Bad. I figure the dude’s got good intent and lots of thought behind his decision(?) in being infected rather than the straight up “you know what’s sexy? strength. alright. i think i’m going to go batshit now.” and while I love, I would also spontaneously combust at the thought of him killing his daughter (at least for my interpretations), especially if it’s over just somethin’ small like “you love a NOT-A-MANTIS?!” due to that one outsider-honor dream dialogue from a mantis warrior makin’ me wonder otherwise.

(for that my thoughts is more Ze’mer: the Hallowed-of-nest Knight? -> Radiance as Infectious Influence: “Oh. That bug sucks. You hate Hallownest? That bug’s going to totally leave your daughter to rot.”)

I can explain about this stuff more but maybe... maybe I leave that for another post before I babble on hsdflkhj

[pl-panda]

The Vines that bind us - Chapter 1

Disclaimer: I don’t own Miraculous Ladybug or any DC characters. I own only the plot, and even that is inspired by the amazing story "Marigold Ivy" by @lwandile13 on Wattpad. Go check it. It's great. He allowed me to take some inspiration, for which I'm grateful. Also, don't translate the french words maybe. Or at least do it on your own responsibility. Big thanks to @Liza! on Discord for being my Beta :)

NEXT

Marinette Dupain-Cheng was a normal girl, with a normal life. But she had a secret. Her real name was Marigold Isley. She was born under that name in Gotham city sixteen years ago. Her mother never revealed to her who was her father, but Mari never cared. She was happy with her mom and several aunts and uncles. Technically, none of them were related to her by blood, but Rogues were quite close to each other (excluding some outcasts like Joker or the Menagerie). They taught her many interesting things such as lockpicking, stealth 101, or hand-to-hand combat. She was five when it started, so her first-ever practical test was breaking into a kitchen cupboard and stealing a jar of cookies. Overall, she was very happy. 

It changed when she was eight. One very tired social service person named Elizabeth Barrow got wind of a child of a villain. That Elizabeth was new to Gotham after being reassigned from Metropolis and didn’t yet get the wind of how things worked. Maybe her colleagues didn’t like her, or maybe she was just too overwhelmed by the sheer scale of the problem in Gotham. Previously, there was an unspoken agreement in the government that they wouldn’t notice Marigold. In exchange, rogues were calmer. Or at least tried to keep the death toll down. For a time, Gotham even started to slowly heal. But then, Elizabeth took the case of Marigold Isley. Ivy tried to fight. To protect her daughter. For three days, the city was held hostage by giant plants. It was only the fear in her daughter’s eyes that made Poison Ivy relent and let go. She didn’t want that life for Marigold. The one condition she gave was that the girl would leave America as a whole, to ensure she would be safe from all the madness. 

And so Marigold ended up in the care of baker’s couple in Paris. She never showed any powers thus far and the adoption agency kept the parentage a secret. That’s when Marinette Dupain-Cheng was born. She continued with martial arts training and stealth training, but now only as fun and reminder of her mother and extended family, as opposed to actual necessary survival tool. She also picked up designing as another hobby, which soon turned into a kind of obsession. She was generally a ray of sunshine. 

The one black spot in the happy world of Marinette was the Mayor’s daughter. Chloe Bourgeoise considered herself above others and just couldn’t stand sunshine girl. She ruined her clothes, sometimes damaged her homework, or verbally assaulted her. While Chloe was generally disliked, she was more of a nuance. Overall, Marinette was happy. At least until two events changed that. 

When she was twelve, Paris was attacked by Hawkmoth for the first time. Marinette found herself becoming Ladybug, a superhero with magical powers that protected the city from harm. She received a partner in form of Chat Noir. It took some time before she got hang of it, and then more time before she and Chat became an actual team. Over time, more heroes joined them, even if temporarily only. She had people she could count on. She became Happy again. 

Privately, she started her own brand: MDC, managed to become a class representative, and became best friends with Alya, who joined around the same time she became Ladybug. It was quite ironic. The superhero was best friends with one person whose greatest dream was to unmask the hero. Marinette also developed a huge (and a bit unhealthy) crush on Adrien Agreste, a famous model who was in her class. She spent years vying for his attention, but nothing ever came from her attempts. She was unable to even say a word around him and her face always became red like her mother’s hair. Overall, she couldn’t complain.

Then, when she was fifteen another black spot appeared. It was Lila (Liela) Rossi. She came to their school and immediately started sporting lies with every breath. Surprisingly, everyone seemed to buy into that, believing her like she spoke the gospel. Everyone but Marinette. She tried to expose Lila, but it only backfired. She became an outcast, disliked by everyone, and universally hated. Suddenly, it became okay to bully her because she was a bully herself and deserved it. It became okay to shun her and no longer include her in anything. The worst was Alya, her former best friend. At first, she just tried to nudge Marinette to give Lila a chance. When Marinette tried to show the truth, Alya practically attacked her. She was just as much responsible for Mari being cast out as Lila was. The fact that her best friend abandoned her only fueled the gossip and allowed Lila to drive the final nail in. In the span of a few weeks, Marinette was left alone. 

Around the same time, Chat Noir became more persistent in his pursuit of her while Adrien, who Marinette knew was aware of the lies, was only telling her to keep the high road (do nothing). She could understand him. As a famous model and son of a well-known fashion designer, he was always taught to not provoke the press. It still served as a wake-up call on her crush. 

--------

Marinette was packing her things after lessons when she noticed someone approach her from behind. Immediately, she tensed. After eleven years of martial arts practice, it was an instinct. Before she had time to turn around, something heavy landed on her desk with a loud Thud!. She turned to see Chloe standing over a large book, a single thick envelope, and a puffy bag that content Marinette couldn’t guess.

“What’s a…” She started, but Chloe cut her off. She had her usual ‘resting witch’ expression.

“The book contains every single instance I verbally assaulted you, destroyed something of yours, talked about you behind your back, or in any way otherwise did something wrong toward you. Here are the materials for the damaged clothes,” she pushed the bag toward her, “and here is money for other things.” Chloe gave her the envelope. “I apologize for all of that. I was jealous of all the attention you kept getting even though I thought I deserved it. I now realize that my behavior was wrong and hurtful. I will understand if you’ll never speak to me again. I kept acting ridiculous! Utterly ridiculous!” With that, she turned and started to walk again. Marinette idly noticed that there was no Sabrina nearby. Thinking back, Chloe was no longer acting (overly) mean toward anyone as of late.

Making a split-second decision, Marinette raced after the blonde and pulled her into a hug.

“Wha…” Chloe yelped before sinking into the hug. Neither girl realized they were crying until they finally separated. Blonde had her lite make-up in total ruin while Marinette had tears still going down her cheeks. “Does that mean you accept my apologies?”

Marinette didn’t answer immediately. She stood there with open mouth for a moment before smiling weakly. “Yes, Chloe.”

Since that day, they were best friends. It turned out to be a blessing. Chloe, once she finally allowed someone to truly know her, turned out to be a highly intelligent, funny, and very much still overbearing person. She still acted high and mighty, but it no longer felt mean, rather just… felt. She took to defending Marinette from the rest of the class. She was aware of Lila’s lies from day one but never acted on it until it was too late. Sabina abandoned her for the liar. Dealing with loneliness was hard on her. She didn’t even have parents that cared. Her father would probably move sun if she asked, but he had an emotional range of a toothpick. Her mother didn’t even know her name, so she didn’t bother.

Something about their friendship must’ve upset Lila because the girl upped her game. Marinette’s parents suddenly found themselves facing strong critique and constant inspection from the sanitary department and child protection questioning their parenting abilities. MDC, who was slowly becoming one of the go-to fashion designers for famous found herself in the middle of several fake media scandals, including one lawsuit over defamation. If it wasn’t for Jagged Stone and Penny rallying her customers, Marinette and her parents would end up broke. He managed to save MDC and practically made her untouchable. Still, Alya and Lila got off scot-free as nothing could be linked to them.

Perhaps what pushed Lila over the edge was Chloe confronting Adrien. She yelled at him for good two hours straight about responsibility and morality, pointing in detail exactly what he did wrong. She would probably go on if Marinette didn’t stop her. After that, Adrien finally apologized and tried to make things right, but it only turned against him. By then, Lila had everyone so deep into it, that he was powerless. She didn’t go after him as her partnership with Gabriel Agreste was too important, but she did tattle to the Fashion Mogul about it. Gabriel tried to get his son under control, but this was one thing that he couldn’t achieve. 

It did inspire a whole youth fashion line ‘rebel’, which became a global hit.

All this time, Marinette kept two secrets. One was her identity as Ladybug and the guardian, the other was her true name and family. Until she kept neither.

----------

Marinette returned home after another day at school. Recently, her mother revealed she was pregnant with another child, even though she was believed to be barren. Everyone in the bakery was overjoyed and the couple even started to hand out small treats to any guest that came. The free samples helped the business return to a better standing. 

When she entered, strangely there was no sound in the bakery. It was empty. Usually, her parents would both be very busy as it was still business hours. Slightly worried, she went upstairs. When she entered the living room, she found an envelope addressed to her. 

Isley

We tried, but we can no longer tolerate you. We turned a blind eye when we learned how improper you act, trying to drag every boy you meet for some, and we quote, “alone time”. We didn’t react to the bullying accusations, believing them to be overexaggerated. Even when you were expelled, we still had hoped you’ll turn out into a fine young lady. But now, we must think of the baby. Today was the last straw. Hearing about how you ruined that poor impaired girl’s birthday was both cruel and against everything we taught you. 

We held hope you won’t follow in your mother’s footsteps, but you proved us wrong several times. We supported your obsession over fashion, even with the drama it caused, because it was actually non-violent. At first, we didn’t want to teach you how to fight, but we convinced ourselves that you would have a way to vent the emotions somewhere away from us. 

Please, don’t try looking for us. We will probably have already left the country or even the continent. The bakery is yours. We don’t want to have anything to do with the spawn of evil such as you. 

We hoped you would turn out better

Sincerely,

Tom Dupain and Sabine Cheng

Marinette tried to read it over and over again, but her eyes welled with tears. She had no idea she was screaming until her throat was coarse. Rationally, she knew she needed to keep calm or she would attract the Akuma, but emotions made her not care. 

Unknowingly to her, the plants all around Paris responded to her cry. They started growing and spreading, trying to get to their queen and comfort her. The Akuma that would’ve come for her stumbled into one of the vines, corrupting it. Hawkmoth was surprised, it was not something anyone ever seen in Paris except on TV or some strange Japanese shows that play after midnight. The more important thing was that even though he akumatized the plants, he had no control over them. He couldn’t even recall his Akuma. 

Back in Marinette’s living room, she started to feel the ground rumble. Soon, plants exploded from the ground and broke windows. She slowly looked at her hands to see them tinted with green. They were not the same as her mother’s, but close. She looked to the floor where pieces of glass littered everything. Her face was the same, but her hair became blue and her eyes were now the most vibrant iridescent green she’s ever seen, exactly the same color her mother’s eyes were. 

She started to panic even more. Tikki floated next to her, talking to her, but Marinette couldn’t hear her. Or maybe process it. She could hear the plants call to her. She could hear them speak. They promised her revenge. They promised retribution on those who attacked her. God’s wrath would rain upon them from the sky and hell’s fury would consume them from beneath. 

Impaired girl…

“Liar Rossi.” Marigold seethed. She knew there was only one person who would do such a thing. Only one talented enough to convince her parents she was a villain. If they wanted a villain, they would get one. Her mind was being clouded. Her clothes were already torn, replaced by a skintight outfit made of leaves, much like her mother wore. Then, Marinette remembered another part of the letter. She added a skirt made of purple petals that complimented her blue hair nicely and long sleeves that reached to her hands, ending with a triangle that reached her middle finger and surrounded it at the base. She left the decolletage as it was.

Exiting her house, she allowed the vines to carry her. There were only so many places The Liar could hide. First, she went toward School, as it was closest. She made plants carry her over the roof right into the courtyard while more of them broke the doors and blocked any exit. The fencing class was still going on, but The Liar was not there. She looked over the scared crowd, spotting two people she wanted to find. She needed to protect them from The Liar, else they end like her. She grabbed the fencer in a red outfit and her partner, knocking their masks to reveal Kagami and Adrien. The plants wrapped around them, forming a sort of cocoon before dragging them to the heart. Marinette then turned her sight to Eifel tower. She knew The Liar liked to drag the class there. 

As she moved through town, she passed the Hotel where Chloe lived. Pausing, she made the plants lift her toward the balcony. Her best friend was indeed there, right next to the lit-up Bee-signal. Honeystly…

“Marinette!?” The blonde jumped in surprise

“Marinette is gone. She should’ve never even been. I’m Marigold, the daughter of Poison Ivy.” For a moment, the fog thickened, but Mari shook it off quickly enough, before whatever caused it managed to get the hold of her. 

“Marinette Dupain-Cheng! If you got yourself akumatized, I’m telling my daddy!” Chloe shouted. Seeing the tears form in the iridescent green eyes, she looked at her friend with pity. “Oh, Mari! Is this the Liar again? Come here right now!” The blonde spread her arms for a hug. She didn’t care about the Akuma. Her friend needed her and she would help her conquer the world if she asked. Chloe owed Mari… everything. She helped her evolve beyond being the queen witch. In response to the gesture, the plants in the garden started to grow until they surrounded the two of them in a tight cocoon. Marinette stepped onto the balcony. She affectionately petted the vine that carried her so far before allowing it to return to its hunt for the Liar. 

“Chloeee!” Mari launched herself at the girl. She sunk into the embrace, allowing tears to start flowing again. She sobbed her heart out while pushing a piece of paper she constantly held in her clutched fist before. The blonde took it and read while patting Marinette on the back of her head. 

“Salauds! Ridiculous! Utterly Ridiculous! How dare that cochons! And the chienne! Wait till I tell daddy about this! Don’t worry Mari. I will protect you! I will ruin her! Merde!” The rant made Marigold pause. She never heard Chloe curse. Like… never. “But first. Mari. You know I love you and I would help you hide the body, but drop the Akuma. It’s making you look Ridiculous. Utterly Ridiculous! I mean the dress is so much spot on and so you, but the whole take over Paris is more my style. I can let you be my faithful sidekick while we take over the world if you want.”

For a moment, Marigold continued to stare at Chloe before she burst out in a fit of laughter. It wasn’t a nervous chuckle or the villain cackle, but genuine pearly laughter. It was just so… Chloe-ish. She couldn’t imagine anyone trying to dissuade an Akuma by offering to become a sidekick. 

“You… You… Never change Chlo.” Mari smiled at her friend. 

“Whoa. You… didn’t make me a fertilizer? I mean, of course, you wouldn’t. You are just too good of a person, but Hawkmoth…”

“I’m not akumatized Chloe.” Mari smiled. “It’s me.” As if to prove her point, she stood up and spun, allowing the blonde to see her from all sides. “This is how I really look. Apparently, I do take some after my mom.”

“Your… mom?”

“Pamela Isley, she was a famous biologist. Mom was brilliant. She used to be one of the smartest people in the world.” Mari praised. “There was this one accident that she is now famous for…”

“Pamela Isley? I remember reading about her.” 

“Yeah… She is…”

“Didn’t she create this environment-friendly line of cosmetics?” Chloe asked in her typical fashion

“Yes! I have no idea why everyone remembers her only for the ‘Poison Ivy’ thing!”

“I know, right?” Chloe nodded. “Wait a…”

“Tada!” Mari said weakly before trying to look away, doing everything not to look her friend in the eyes. The blonde gently grabbed her chin and moved it so she could look right into the beautiful green eyes of her best friend.

“Mari! If you think I would abandon you just because your mother took veganism too far… You’re utterly ridiculous!”

Marigold smiled slightly. Slowly, the green receded and her eyes turned back to normal. The dress remained, as without it she would end up naked and she didn’t fancy trying to explain to anyone that. 

She then turned to the plants and tried to order them to return to normal, only for them to resist. For a moment, her mind started to feel fogged, but it didn’t hold at all now. 

“As much as I like the scenery, maybe we stop the plantpocalypse?”

“Um… Remember how I told you I wasn’t akumatized?”

“Yeah?”

“I think the plants are…”

“You’ve got to be kidding me!” Chloe shouted. “Listen here Hawkmoth! Get this Akuma the heck away! I don’t care about some fancy Jewels that will totally clash with your suit! I mean purple and white with red earrings? Are you colorblind?”

There was no visible reaction to the plants. 

“Strange…” Marigold ran her hand over the plants. “They still respond, just refuse to yield.” Inside, Mari cursed that she couldn’t consult Tikki.

“So… Want some cookies?” Chloe asked. “We just have to wait for Ladybug to save the day. At least the damage will be repaired.”

‘Except Ladybug it trapped here…’

Suddenly, something small and black slipped through the vines and entered their small peaceful enclave. It zoomed between items on the balcony, trying to avoid being seen. It would’ve been successful if Chloe didn’t know about Kwamis. 

“What was that!?” She shouted pointing at Plagg’s hiding place.

“What? I didn’t see anything!” Mari tried to lie. It was the one skill she never had. She did compensate for it by never getting caught.

“A Kwami! I’m sure I’ve seen one.” 

“Kwami? Who’s Kwami? Is that some bird? How would a bird get here? I mean we are trapped in…”

“Ugh! I don’t have time for games!” Plagg suddenly floated before the pair. “Chat is trapped and can’t help without revealing himself. Paris is being destroyed mindlessly and nobody can do anything as the vines are harder than steel.” The cat summarized. “And I’m hungry. Give me cheese!” He looked at Chloe. “Camembert would be the best, but I’m not that picky.”

“Why come to us? Ladybug took away my miraculous.” The blonde asked. 

“I didn’t come to you. I came to her.” The god pointed at Mari. 

“Me?! Why? It’s not like…”

“We don’t have time for charades guardian! The Akuma is out of control! Literally! Hawkmoth’s connection was somehow severed and now you have a giant plant that knows only the rage. This is serious!”

Mari wanted to protest or try to save some of her identity, but then Tikki floated out of her purse.

“Oh no! Marinette! He is right! We have a huge problem.”

“Why?” The girl asked resigned.

“You’re Ladybug!” Chloe shouted but was subsequently ignored

“Hawkmoth must’ve akumatized the plant, hoping to control you, but he had no idea it was sentient. But it stopped being sentient the moment you let it go. I… It never happened before.”

“You’re Ladybug!!!” Chloe shouted so loud that everyone had to look at her. 

“We can talk later. Now we need to somehow deal with the plants. Maybe… No. What about… But they are too tough… What if…” Marigold started to run through various scenarios and plans. 

“Can’t you just order them to expel the Akuma?” Plagg asked bored.

“It… It might work.” Mari had a focused expression. In her head, she was running through all her knowledge of biology, miraculous magic, and how her mom’s powers worked. Hesitantly, she walked to the edge of the cocoon and called the main vine to her. The wall spread slightly and allowed the tip of it to enter. Mari touched it and started gently caressing it. 

“you’re a good boy. Yeah! Who’s a good boy? You’re. Yes! You’re a good boy. But Good Boys don’t have Akuma. Do you want to be a good boy? Of course, you do…” 

Chloe stood there and watched how Marigold kept talking to the plant like it was a puppy. She felt something fall into her hand. Opening the palm, she saw two earrings.

“I… I can’t!” She protested, but Plagg floated before her eyes.

“She can’t do it. If Akuma escapes, we will have plantmagedon on a larger scale.”

“Fine. Spots on!”

Just as Mari finally talked the plant into expelling the Akuma, Chloe caught it. 

“Bye Bye Little Butterfly!” She released the pure white bug. “Lucky charm!” Chloe shouted. A red and black folder fell into her hands. She looked at it curiously. Inside, she found a complete set of adoption papers for her father to sign. She quickly pulled out the sheets and tossed the folder itself, releasing a swarm of ladybugs that repaired Paris to how it was before plants. The sheet stayed. 

Transformation dropped after that and Chloe handed the jewel back to the true owner.

“You still have sooo much explaining to do!” 

Nobody remembered about Adrien and Kagami being carried together to safety, which turned out to be Mari’s basement. And while Ladybug Cure should’ve restored them to where they were taken from, for some unknown reason they remained locked there until Mari returned late into the evening to spend the last night at the bakery. It would be some time until Tikki admitted that it was an act of revenge on Plagg for revealing her chosen’s identity. He had to go the whole day without cheese. The one good thing that came from it was that Kagami and Adrien had a long frank talk and ended up as friends. The relationship just wasn’t working.

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When Mari was adopted by the Mayor, she decided to keep using the Dupain-Cheng name at least for now. At first, Chloe’s father was against it, but once the girl presented it as a way of getting good press of mayor who personally looks after his citizens he practically ripped the papers to sign them. Although on paper he was the adopter, Chloe was the real parent/sister that took care of Mari. Lila seethed and spitted, but couldn’t really do much more. Adrien and Chloe roped Jagged Stone and Penny into Marinette Protection Squad. Luka and Kagami, who somehow hooked up, also joined. At some point, Mari entrusted Luka and Kagami with permanent Miraculous and Gave Chloe the Bee miraculous back. Some Fox illusion of Chloe publically applauding new heroine helped hide her identity. The hardest part was revealing to Chat, Viperion, and Ryuko her true identity. Adrien was a big surprise, but at least they finally dealt with their crushes once and for all. The fact that they were in love square in two people was way too awkward. Chloe and Mari did notice Adrien sometimes looking at Luka, but he was happy with Kagami. The only person that disproved of ‘Lukagami’ was Kagami’s mother, but she warmed up to him when he accepted the challenge to a duel and was completely pacified when she learned that Luka is apprenticing under Jagged Stone. 

Jagged and Penny wanted to Adopt Mari, but ended up filling the role of uncle and aunt. After some time, Mari realized that she rebuilt what she once had in Gotham. These people might not have been her family by blood, but it mattered little. That family might’ve been damaged, maybe even broken, but they were happy together. They found solace in one another. Once more, Marinette was happy. 

Until a trip to Gotham came knocking on the front doors.

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