#did you just faked you own dead ? what kind of parent are you ? | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

aemsgirl · 23 days ago

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In Spite of Us.

Modern Aemond x Reader.

Summary: Raised in an orphanage before being adopted by the same family, you and Aemond have always been bound by something deeper than childhood friendship. Darkness. Obsession. The kind of things that burrow into your minds and refuse to leave. In a world that couldn’t care less about either of you, the harsh truth remains: you’re all each other has—whether you like it or not.

Warnings: DEAD DOVE DO NOT EAT. Incest, drug and substance abuse, mention of graphic violence, mention of murder, mention of parental abuse, smut, degradation, possessive behavior, dub-consent.

Author's note: I'm deciding whether to continue. If you'd like to, please let me know.

In a world this fucked, it's no wonder it spits out people just as broken. Twisted up, chipped, and ready to snap. Minds that don't play by the so-called normal rules. You’re a glitch in the system, the full stop shoved into the middle of the sentence. A ticking bomb of chemical chaos, or maybe just the gnawing hunger that’s been chewing you from the inside out since day one. You knew it. Aemond knew it. Always did. You didn't fit, never would. For a while, that shit felt like a curse—like a weight tied around your neck. But then it became second nature, like breathing in poison and calling it air. You stopped fighting it, stopped letting it tear you apart. You didn't just wear it; you owned it. Hell, maybe you even died for it.

Aemond sometimes wondered where it all started. Maybe it was that hellhole of an orphanage, where they threw you both like trash. Not a home—just another cruel joke. A meat grinder, with its hunger pangs, freezing walls, and the constant line-up for scraps that were never enough. You were quiet, too fucking quiet, and that made people look at you sideways. But then there was him. The shadow that stood between you and the bigger boys who thought pain was a game. You didn't know why he gave a damn. Maybe it was that time you woke up in the dead of night and saw him sitting on the floor, staring at you like some ghost that couldn't rest. The dark didn't bother him, and his silver hair sure as hell didn't make him harder to spot.

He was there. Always was. And you? You were his shadow, just as much as he was yours. Years didn't change a damn thing. Then that joke of a family came along, slapped the word adoption on you both like it meant something. A better life? Bullshit. Things didn’t get better—they just shifted into another shade of misery.

Mum? She spent her days with a bottle of cheap wine in one hand and a cigarette in the other, blowing out clouds that reeked of fake watermelon. She used to say the sweet ones were best, even if they tasted like shit. And Dad? Oh, he loved Aemond’s silver hair. Loved it so much that when he was about to lose his temper, he'd hold onto him like some sick lifeline. But that didn't stop the scars. Those stayed, etched into his skin, courtesy of the belts and threads Dad liked to use.

Crying? Aemond didn't cry. He didn't have to. The silence screamed loud enough.

Years dragged on, and one day you weren't some helpless kid anymore. But the bullshit didn't stop—if anything, it cranked up a notch. You remember the screaming. How could you not? Dad’s twisted little excuses, his shitty jokes that got uglier every time, all just another way to go at you or Aemond. And Mum? She was barely even there—when she was, all she did was scream too. The sound of her begging still rattles in your head. “Stop. It hurts.” Over and over, bouncing off the walls like it could break something in him. It never did.

So, you did what you always did. Slid under the covers next to Aemond, the only refuge you had. Not that he reacted much. He’d just lie there, staring blankly at the ceiling, cold as death. It was like lying next to a corpse. But it was better than being alone. At least, that's the lie you kept feeding yourself.

It was during one of these times that you felt him react for the first time. His fingers slid down your thighs under the covers, gripping them firmly. They traveled up to your waist and disappeared under your shirt. His cold fingertips mapped your spine as if they were counting the bones there, his breath blowing at the back of your neck, and he leaned closer to bite your neck, hard enough to leave a mark on your jaw. You felt every sensation, as if the devil himself was licking your skin raw and bathing it in his saliva. When his hand found your breast and rolled your nipple between his fingers, you arched your hips back, and as you wiggled them, you found his member already hard under his loose shorts.

After that, it was like two beasts were being released from their cages at the exact same time.

Aemond turned his body and spread your legs, not even bothering to take off your shorts or yours panties, just pushing them aside. Pulling down his shorts revealed his cock, almost throbbing your name. At least that's what it seemed like, since he was calling for you. Grabbing your thighs, he parted them even more and thrust into you in one swift motion, until your groins slammed together. Over and over, growing in your ear, while using one hand to cover your lips, muffling the desperate cries of pain and ecstasy that escaped. His cock became a mess with your scent and the blood from your first experience, going deeper and deeper.

It was too much, for both your body and your mind. Your nails scratched into him as if you were ready to disintegrate him, the screams that had tormented your nights before vanished. Sweat clung to your bodies and the clothes you still wore, your walls squeezing him, pulling him even deeper. You felt whole, so fucking whole that your eyes rolled back. That was when you reached the first true orgasm of your life, before feeling Aemond pull out and spill over your belly, staining you in more ways than one. It was almost peaceful.

The peace shattered when the bastard stormed into the room. It didn’t feel real—more like some fucked-up fever dream. He yanked Aemond off you and threw him to the floor like trash. You tried to get up, but he was on you in an instant, his fist smashing into your face so hard it sent you sprawling back onto the bed. Your nose was leaking blood, your vision blurry as hell, but through half-closed eyes, you saw it all.

He mounted Aemond, his fists raining down in a storm of violence. But this time? This time wasn’t like the others. Something snapped. Aemond's thighs locked around the old bastard’s torso, flipping him over with a strength you didn’t even know he had.

That was it. That fucking line—the one that should never have been crossed—was gone.

Aemond let loose. His fists came down again and again, each punch sinking into the man’s face, his nose collapsing under the blows. Blood sprayed everywhere, pooling on the ground like a sick offering. Aemond’s knuckles turned black and blue, the flesh split and soaked in crimson, but he didn’t give a shit. He grabbed the bastard by the hair, slamming his head into the floor over and over, screaming like a man possessed.

The crack of his skull splitting open echoed through the room. Blood spread out like a dark halo around his head, but Aemond didn’t stop. No, stopping wasn’t in the plan. He wanted to tear the son of a bitch apart, piece by piece, rip him open from crown to toe, exposing every festering, rotting bit of ugliness for the world to see.

You saw it—the exact moment that piece of shit raised his hand and jammed his thumb into Aemond’s eye. That was it. No more waiting, no more thinking. You shot up from the bed, your hands grabbing the first thing in reach—a pen from your desk.

Your heart was hammering like a war drum as you moved in, the sharp tip aimed and ready. One step, and the pen sank deep into his left eye. You didn’t stop. Not until his face was a grotesque, unrecognisable mess, blood and pulp dripping down like something out of a nightmare.

When he finally stopped moving, you looked over at Aemond. His face was the same cold, detached mask he always wore, but his raw, trembling hands betrayed him. His silence was deafening.

You thought about saying something—hell, anything—but the scream cut through the room like a blade. Your head whipped to the side, and there she was. Your mother. Sliding to the floor, hands clamped over her mouth, her eyes wide with horror. She was still naked, her body a wreck from whatever that bastard had been doing to her before he’d turned his attention to you both.

There wasn’t time to think—fuck, thinking wasn’t even an option. You were on autopilot. Aemond was the first to move, landing a punch on Mum that sent her sprawling to the floor, her scream cutting off like a bad record. You didn’t even flinch. You were already moving, grabbing a backpack and shoving in whatever the hell you could find, yanking on the closest clothes without a second thought.

When you were done, you looked back at the scene—Mum on the ground, Aemond standing over her, the room still reeking of blood and chaos. You knew it then, as clear as the blood on your hands: you were fucked. This wasn’t something you could crawl back from. So Aemond found their stash of cash, shoved it into your bag, and bolted. No goodbyes, no second guesses. Just running.

Every moment after that was soaked in fear. The shitty motels you both crashed in, the greasy diners where you shoved down food that tasted like cardboard, the endless paranoia that came with every passing police car. Red and blue lights haunted the back of your eyelids, flashing like some kind of sick countdown. Every night, you stared at your fingers, half-expecting handcuffs to snap around them. But they never came.

The anxiety started to dull, forced out by exhaustion and the silence that hung between you two like a heavy fog. You never figured out why no one came looking. Maybe no one gave a damn about that bastard. Maybe the world had just decided to let you off the hook for once. Whatever the reason, the answers didn't come, and you weren't about to go digging for them.

Aemond was the practical one, the one with the plan—or at least the one who acted like he had one. He decided your next moves, no questions asked. He wasn’t afraid to dive headfirst into the filth, mixing with the worst kinds of people. And why the hell not? Everyone was scared of him. They didn’t see a guy—they saw a rabid animal, barely tethered. That suited him just fine. It suited you just fine. Fear opened doors, and Aemond kicked them wide open.

By working the right angles and talking to the right scumbags, you both found some good shit to sell, and before long, a shitty little hole to call home followed. He was always making extra stops, running his own little side deals with people who made your skin crawl. You didn’t ask questions, though. You knew better. Some of it was personal—his own brand of chaos that you didn’t dare get involved in.

And when things went sideways? When his preferences left a trail of wreckage behind? It always came down to you to clean up the mess. Blood, lies, broken promises—you were knee-deep in it, scrubbing his mistakes off the floor and praying no one noticed. That’s just how it worked.

So when you came home that morning, boots in hand, tiptoeing in like you were trying not to wake a sleeping beast, what you walked into didn’t shock you. Not really. You were past being surprised by shit like this. The living room floor was painted in scarlet, the blood so fresh it looked like it might still be warm.

And her? She was sprawled there in the middle of it all, like some fucked-up display. You couldn’t even tell what colour her hair was, not with how soaked it was in blood. Her throat—well, there wasn’t much of it left. Torn open, barely held together. Her face still stuck in this frozen mask of terror. Clothes? Forget it. She didn’t have a shred on her, just skin bruised all over like someone had been working her over for hours.

You took another step, then another, and there he was—Aemond. Lounging on the couch like it was just another Tuesday. Legs spread wide, head tipped back, a cigarette hanging lazily from his mouth, smoke curling up toward the ceiling. Blood covered him—his chest, arms, hands. It was everywhere, dripping down him like some grotesque masterpiece. The only thing untouched? His sweatpants, the one clean piece of fabric on him.

He didn’t even look at you. Just sat there, exhaling a long drag of smoke, like he’d just come back from a jog instead of whatever the hell this was.

"Where the fuck have you been?" His voice cut through the suffocating silence, sharp and loaded with accusation. You could have laughed—really could’ve—at the irony of him asking the questions when the room looked like this.

But you didn’t laugh. Not because it wasn’t funny, but because when you looked at him properly, you saw that he wasn’t in the mood for your shit. His eyes were hard, jaw clenched tight, teeth grinding into that cigarette like it had personally offended him. The black hair he’d been dyeing since everything went to hell was sticking to his pale, blood-slick skin, smoke curling around him like he was burning alive from the inside out.

He was pissed. You didn’t need to ask why.

“I went out for drinks,” you said flatly, like it wasn’t even worth a conversation, leaning down to drop your heavy boots onto the floor with a thud. That’s when it hit you—the ache in your thighs, sharp and unforgiving after hours spent dancing, grinding all that tension out of your body. You straightened up slowly, your muscles protesting, your gaze flicking back to him like you were daring him to say something about it.

"All night?" His voice was low, almost too soft. It was ridiculous, really—how the hell could he sound like a goddamn feather when everything about him screamed destruction? It was like he was about to rip you to shreds, but still, the tone came out smooth and menacing. "Are you sure?" The second question came, quieter, sharper.

You squinted at him, head tilting slightly, trying to piece together what game he was playing this time. Every time you left, it was the same damn thing. Coming back to that look in his eyes—something primal, dangerous, like he could rip through you without a second thought. Like he wanted to hunt you down, drag you back into the house, and break you apart, just like he did with the girl on the floor.

And goddamn it, you knew. You knew the thought had crossed his mind more than once. Every time you pulled some shit like this, he probably imagined slicing you open, testing how much you'd bleed. You didn’t even have to ask. You could see it in his eyes.

"Yes, all night," you answered, your voice sharp with irritation. He wasn’t the one who should be asking questions—not after the bloodbath he’d left on your favorite rug.

Aemond exhaled a thick cloud of smoke, stubbing out his cigarette in the ashtray beside him. Slowly, deliberately, he stood up. His bare feet made no noise as he walked toward you, stepping over the body like it was just another object in his way. You met his movement with your usual defiance, head held high and chin up, not showing an ounce of weakness. But that only seemed to make things worse.

He closed the distance, stopping just inches away, his hot breath hitting your face. He tilted his head down, leaning in closer, nose brushing against your skin as he took a deep sniff, his eyes narrowing as he examined you for something he didn’t want to see. The smell of blood, alcohol, and sweat mixed in the air, the tension thick enough to cut.

"You let someone fuck you?" he murmured, his voice dark and low. He exhaled slowly, searching your scent for any trace of another man’s presence.

Your fists tighten, nails digging into your palms as the sharp, metallic smell of blood mixes with something unmistakably Aemond—anger, frustration, and that volatile edge of his temper that never seems to stay contained. You should be used to it by now, the question always hanging in the air, the same shit over and over. The way he digs into it like a damn animal, hoping to find something he can’t.

"No." The word slips out, tight and clipped, your jaw clenching as you force the response. You see it in his eyes—the search, that desperate need to find an excuse, something to justify whatever the hell this is.

A heavy sigh escapes his lips, shoulders dropping momentarily before he tilts his head back, the movement slow and deliberate. You watch the way his throat works with the motion, the sight making your own lips dry. Then, without warning, his hand is in your hair, fingers curling tightly around the strands and yanking back hard. The pain is sharp, like a dagger to your scalp, and you’re quick to grab his forearm, trying to pull him away, but it’s useless. His grip is ironclad.

"Fuck off!" you gasp, the sting radiating through your scalp, but instead of backing off, he tightens his hold, the pull sending a hot rush of tears to your eyes as your skin stretches, every nerve alight.

Without any kindness, he begins to drag you across the room until he reaches where the girl's corpse now lay cold. Kicking the back of your knees, he brings you down to the floor on them, holding tightly to your hair. He positions himself behind you, pressing your cheek against his, using his grip to angle your face better towards the scene.

"Are you lying to me now, you fucking bitch?" his words are poured directly into your ear, the tone so deep it seemed to vibrate from his chest.

"I already said no!” you answer through gritted teeth, the unbearable pain in your head made worse by the amount you drank the night before.

With a grunt, he forces your face to the ground, pressing your cheek into the blood that was there, his open palm on your other cheek. He takes a moment to observe you in that position, so fucking at his mercy. He could break your jaw right now if he wanted to. He could mix your blood with that of the filthy whore on the ground. He could; it would be so damn easy, and you knew it.

"Yeah? You know what's gonna happen if you keep this up, don't you, little dove?" He smirks, grinding your face into the blood, the scent overwhelming your senses as he presses his body against your hunched, aching back. "Come on, scream it out, you fucking know." His voice, though low, slices through the air like a command.

"Fuck you!" you spit back, defiance burning in your eyes, refusing to yield even as the pressure on your jaw intensifies, like he's contemplating grinding you into the damn floor.

His hand snakes up under your dress, yanking it up until it's bunched around your waist like a cheap trophy. You squirm, but he just smashes your face harder against the floor, a silent fucking threat. His fingers creep between your thighs, hunting for any trace of dried cum, like he's some kind of detective in this sick game. His thumb brushes over your panties, feeling the dampness—not the old kind, no. You're getting wet for him right now, aren't you? Pathetic as fuck. He shoves the thin fabric aside, prying your flesh open with his fingers, delving deep, his lips curling in a sneer even as he bites down on them, craving to dive in, to sink his teeth into you, to chew up that whole defiant attitude of yours.

"Look at the fucking mess you've caused," he spits out, his voice as thick and hoarse as yours. He yanks your face up, his hand clamping around your jaw like a vice, forcing you to see the body sprawled out in front of you like some fucked-up centerpiece. "This is your goddamn fault, it was supposed to be you." His whisper slices through your ear, loaded with venom.

And he fucking means every word. It was supposed to be you bearing the brunt of his rage, dealing with his insanity when you pull your disappearing acts, when you don't give a shit about how worried he gets, how out of his mind he goes imagining what you're up to out there. How many more times does he have to spill blood, just to stop himself from snapping that pretty neck of yours, to punish you instead of some random street whore who looks like you just to vent his frustration?

"Yeah?" you manage to retort, attempting a smirk but his grip on your face makes it a twisted effort. You push through, showing him how much you mean it. "Then do it now." You're practically daring him, knowing damn well you'd go through with it.

Silence hangs thick and suffocating. You watch his fingers stretch out, then curl back into fists, like he's psyching himself up to finally break you. You almost embrace it, judging by the calm breath that escapes. You're ready for it, but then he lets you go, suddenly, and if it weren't for your hands catching you, your face would've kissed the floor. Your eyes track him as he strides over, hoists the girl's body onto his shoulders like she's nothing but a useless sack of bones.

"Clean this shit up," he orders, his voice cutting through the air, and your glare deepens.

You watch him walk off, heading to the garage with the girl's body swaying like some macabre metronome. The moment he's out of sight, you're left alone with the blood pool, aching knees, a pounding headache, your dress still rucked up, and your panties askew. And the worst part? You're dripping wet, throbbing, feeling hollow inside. Maybe that's his real punishment. Fuck him.

The hours blended together in a haze of endless scrubbing. The floor was an unforgiving mess, and no matter how hard you worked, it seemed like it would never be clean again. He hadn’t come back. You could only imagine where he was, dealing with the aftermath of everything he’d left behind. The carpet was ruined beyond repair, and everything you'd used—the cloths, the sponges—was burned, destroyed to erase any trace.

It was second nature by now. The motions, the repetition, the burning sense of inevitability. You'd done this so many times, it was like your fingers had become one with the sponge, hardened by the constant, futile effort to make it all disappear.

When it was all over, you were drenched in sweat, and the shower stretched on longer than you'd meant it to. You scrubbed your hair, your skin, trying to wash away all the filth from the night's ordeal. Your muscles screamed from lack of sleep and a day spent scrubbing, the water initially running dark with the grime. But damn, it felt good, so fucking good. Stepping out, you towel-dried yourself, slipping into a pair of panties and a blouse that might've been black once; you couldn't tell anymore. It wasn't yours—it was his.

As you headed out, you knew you'd run into him, and right on cue, there he was. He'd just arrived, helmet still in hand. His clothes were different, suggesting he'd cleaned up somewhere—likely at one of the crew's places, probably asked for help to deal with the "problem," and as always, he managed it. He carried a bag, full from what you could see at this distance.

He takes a moment, his gaze lingering on you drying your hair in the hallway before he advances, his steps deliberate and unhurried. When he reaches you, his face is that unreadable mask, giving nothing away. You couldn't tell if he was still pissed, if he felt any satisfaction or relief, or if he was just numb. With him, you never could.

His fingers dive into the bag, emerging with a Twix bar, the golden wrapper catching the light in his eyes. A small smile plays on your lips, and he returns it with his own subtle smirk, just a slight curve, no teeth. He unwraps the chocolate slowly, and once it's free, he brings it to your lips, tapping gently against your bottom lip. You open up, taking a small bite, and from the look in his eyes, he's completely captivated by the sight. It's like he's back at the orphanage, remembering how you'd pester him incessantly for these, how your eyes would light up brighter than anyone else's. No wonder there are several of these stashed in the fridge now. Idiot.

You take the candy from his grasp, holding it yourself, but his fingers don't retreat; instead, they rise to your cheek, where there's a hint of red that might bruise. His doing, no doubt. His thumb gently strokes the tender spot as you take another bite, the slight pain from the bruise barely registering. Your eyes lock with his as he steps closer, his head dipping to plant a kiss on your jaw. His lips feel like ice against your skin.

You feel him take a deep breath, as if to confirm your presence. His mood seems to have lifted, even if slightly. His lips trace a path down your jaw, along your face, while his hand moves to the side of your neck. Another small smile graces his lips, sending shivers down your spine.

"You stink," you mutter, though there's no real venom in your words. True as they are, the potent scent of sweat and dirt from him is overwhelming.

He inhales deeply, grunts, and uses the hand that was on your neck to push your face aside, not gently but not with the force he could muster if he really wanted to hurt you. That wasn't his intent right then. Without another word, he snatches the towel you were using and vanishes into the bathroom, the door shutting you out, leaving you to chuckle quietly. The dessert? You polish it off in one more bite, savoring the taste.

Back in the room you share, the window is always open, blue lights casting a glow on your skin, mingling with the smoke you exhale. On the table in front of you lies a near-perfect line of white powder, like winter snow but with the harsh burn of the summer sun. You lean over, one nostril pinched by your index finger, and take a sharp inhale, making the yayo vanish. The bitter taste hits your tongue, stars pulsing behind your closed eyes. Your heart races, a bead of sweat trickling down your temple.

At the door, Aemond stands, observing silently. But soon enough, you catch his presence, tilting your head to see him. He's clad only in loose black shorts and white high-top socks, his black hair wet and dripping, his shoulders still marked with black, suggesting he's just finished dying it. The drops of water on him tell a story of their own. His pupils, dilated, nearly obscure the icy blue of his eyes, and his shoulders are relaxed, hinting the bath had been beneficial. Whether that's a good sign or not remains to be seen.

"Didn't you wait for me to start?" His voice carries that familiar low tone as he nods his chin toward the remaining coke on the table.

A mischievous smile curls your lips, and with a nonchalant shrug, you acknowledge his comment. It's not like the supply is dwindling; you have more than enough, stockpiling for both use and sale, probably more than you should use. Either way, he won't go without.

"Not very nice of you, sis." His tone could almost be called playful if it weren't Aemond speaking, and humor was the last attribute you'd attribute to him.

With deliberate, slow steps, as if he intends for every part of the room to sense his presence, Aemond approaches, and there's this glint in his eyes that you've never been able to fully describe. From childhood to now, it's been there—those dilated pupils, intense, his gaze almost vacant, like he's not fully there. It can seem manic, sending a chill through you under certain lights. It's a trait of his that has barely changed.

He stops at the edge of your chair, pausing for a moment. His thumb delicately brushes your nostril, wiping away the residual powder with an unexpected tenderness that seems foreign to him. Then, with an even slower pace, he kneels before you, between your legs. His hands glide down your sides, gripping your hips firmly, pulling you forward with a force that brings you to the chair's edge, compelling you to grab the backrest to keep from falling off completely.

"If you step out of line," he murmured, his gaze lifting to meet yours. One of his hands maneuvered your thigh onto his shoulder, positioning himself closer to your core. "You know I'm going to kill you, right?" The words were sweet, calm, but their sincerity was unmistakable. He would do it, and he could do it so effortlessly.

You nod, swallowing hard, not out of fear—oh, you wished it was fear—but it was heat, excitement, adrenaline, like sugar melting directly into your veins, ready to roll your eyes back in ecstasy.

"Yeah, you know," he whispered again, his breath hot against your panty-covered intimacy. "That's a good girl." His hands then traced down your thighs, exploring every inch of skin and hair as if they were part of a map he was memorizing.

You watch him intently, the cocaine still racing through your veins, making your heart pound and every nerve tingle. He reaches for the table, picking up the small pin with the remaining coke, and brings it close. With precision, he drops some on your inner thigh, using his pinky to form a line that leads directly to your pussy. He's always so calculated, so infuriatingly in control, it makes you want to tear your hair out.

Leaning in, he covers one nostril, then inhales, sliding forward until he's taken the coke from one end to the other, his lips meeting your panty-covered intimacy at the end. His pulse quickens with the drug's effect. The bitterness of the cocaine mixes with the sweet seepage of your arousal through the fabric. His lips, eager to claim ownership, find your taste more intoxicating than any drug. He swears your pussy is the ultimate narcotic, the only one that can truly bring him down, flowing through his veins smoother than heroin. It's a fucking god.

His tongue slides over your intimacy, and your hands grip the chair and table tightly. You know not to touch his hair; if you did, all hell would break loose. So you cling to the furniture, seeking some semblance of control. His lips savor you like you're the ripest, sweetest fruit, his tongue swirling, gathering saliva which then drips down your panties, blending with your own arousal. He makes you clench and clench, craving more without pause.

"Fuck," you moan, head thrown back, the fabric around your waist now feeling like an intolerable barrier. "You are so good, so good." The words spill out, not so much thought as they are a direct translation of the sensations coursing through you. In that moment, he felt so good.

His teeth graze your skin lightly, perhaps in response. His grip on your thighs tightens, leaving marks that would soon purple, claiming you as his. Again, and again. His hands travel up, fingers hooking into your panties, dragging them down your thighs, discarding the now-soaked fabric. When his gaze returns, it's to the sight of your pulsing, glistening flesh, the taste of you already imprinted on his tongue. It's the part of you he adores most, the most exquisite fuck he could never tire of. He feels like if his lips were bound, he'd chew through the ropes just to taste and devour you completely.

"You're so fucking beautiful." His thumb traces through your folds, finding your clit, the soft sound you make in response making him bite his lip hard enough to nearly break skin.

Leaning in, he first presses his nose against your clit, inhaling your scent like it's something sacred. He slides down, breathing you in. His tongue, slick with saliva, extends, slowly tracing from your entrance up to your clit, his eyes lifting to lock with yours, watching your reaction unfold. Your lips part in ecstasy, your eyes locked on his, painting a scene of paradise right before him. The warmth spreading through his body feels like floating on clouds.

"Such a good pussy." His voice is muffled by your heat, the vibrations echoing inside you like he's already within.

His lips work with such intensity that it sends a sharp ache through your core. He explores every inch, tongue rolling over every detail, collecting your taste, swallowing eagerly. His nose glides along, then his chin rubs against you, moving his head side to side, letting your arousal paint even his cheeks. He devours your pussy, and with every gush of your wetness, a moan escapes him. Your hands clutch the chair, almost breaking the wood in your grip, the pleasure coursing through you, as slick as your insides now feel.

Pulling away from your heat, he rises to your lips, sharing your taste. His hands find the back of your knees, lifting you effortlessly from the chair, your legs instinctively wrapping around his waist. You feel his hardness through his shorts, throbbing against you. With quick steps, he moves to the bed, sitting and pulling you onto his lap. Your tongues dance in a deep, wet kiss, the sounds unrestrained.

As he lies back, you follow, his hands urgently gripping your hips, pulling your thighs, trying to coax you higher, towards his face. He needs this, craves it more than air itself.

"Ride my fucking face," he demands, his breath heavy against your lips, breaking the kiss only to speak.

Encouraged, you move up the bed until your knees straddle his face. His hands swiftly guide you down, his face fully enveloped by your heat. His tongue plunges deep, while your hips begin to rock in rhythm. The heat is overwhelming; you yank off your shirt, revealing your breasts, nipples hard and waiting. His eyes catch the sight, his brows knitting together, a needy sound muffled by your pussy.

His hands travel up your stomach, fingertips tracing your ribs, causing your body to shiver, before reaching your nipples. He pinches them between his fingers, making you grind down onto his face with more force. Your hands cover his, urging him to tighten his grip, and he complies. He momentarily pauses to bring his fingers to your lips, allowing you to lick them one by one, then returns them, now wet, to your nipples, teasing and pinching the hardened peaks.

"Oh fuck, I'm going to cum, Em," you gasp, arching back, your hips grinding with a desperate speed, your nails digging into his forearms as he flicks his thumb over your nipples, mirroring the delicious torment on your clit.

He nods, his chin tilting to drive his tongue deeper. Your walls clamp around him, your movements faltering as your thighs weaken. You look down just in time to see him suck on your clit with renewed vigor, his teeth grazing it, pushing you over the edge. A raw scream tears from your throat, and you clutch the headboard to keep from collapsing forward. And he licks you, thoroughly, consuming every drop of your release.

Your body, now pliable and exhausted, allowed him to easily slide out from under you, lifting you just enough for his head to escape. You collapse back into a sitting position, your back still trembling, mouth open in a silent moan. Then, your ankles are seized, pulling you across the sheets until you're lying flat on your stomach, your thighs shaking and weak.

"You're such a dirty slut, aren't you?" His voice comes from behind, his hand tracing down your soaked inner thighs. "Such a good little slut." The words are punctuated by a sharp slap on your ass, the impact nearly twisting your body.

He observes the quivering form you've become, the fingerprints on your skin already starting to mark you. You look so beautiful, post-orgasm, with your essence still dripping from you, ready for him to drive you into oblivion. His hand dips into his shorts, freeing his throbbing cock. Looking down, he spits on it, using his fingers to spread the saliva along its length.

"Are you going to scream for me, sis?" he murmurs with a hint of malevolence. He steps forward, spreading your legs and teasing your entrance with the tip of his cock, watching you writhe. "Scream on my dick, scream. Do it for me, hm?" He bites his lip, savoring how your entrance clenches around his tip.

He thrusts just the head in again, watching you squirm before pulling back, using one fist to brace himself on the bed and the other to hold his cock steady. He teases you, inserting only the tip, making you moan and arch back, trying to take more, but he keeps it shallow. His eyes are glazed with desire as he watches you clench around him, your body begging for more.

"Please what, little dove?" he nearly spits out, pushing in a bit more before withdrawing again, leaving you empty, tight, and craving more.

Your hips sway side to side, arching off the bed in pursuit of him. You feel him enter you once more, his soft moans barely audible, just for you, and damn, how that makes you even wetter, soaking the sheet that's all too familiar with your scent and taste.

"Please fuck me," you whisper, turning to look over your shoulder, your eyes meeting his in what feels like a challenge.

It was like you'd just slapped him across the face with your words. Without a moment's hesitation, Aemond thrust forward, burying himself to the hilt, the hair at his pelvis meeting your ass. His hands dig into your flesh, gripping tight as he begins to pound into you, each thrust deeper and harder, his balls smacking against your drenched clit with every impact. His gaze drops to watch his cock disappear into you over and over, your arousal glistening on him, spreading to his lower abdomen. Your screams fill the room as your body rocks with each movement. The sensation is so intense, so overwhelmingly good, he feels like he wants to drive his cock right through you, straight into your skull.

"Fuck, you're so tight," he groans, seizing your hair with one hand, pulling it back to whisper close to your ear as he leans over you. "You can barely take me, can you? I'm going to draw blood from that tight little cunt of yours, like always." With that, he thrusts even deeper, eliciting a choked scream from you.

Your body shakes under his relentless thrusts. Your eyes are half-closed, tears at the corners; your feet lift, toes curling, saliva escaping from the corners of your mouth onto the pillow. The deep penetration is overwhelming. His gaze confirms the mix of blood with your arousal around his cock, spurring him to thrust in completely, grinding deep inside you, feeling your walls contract around him with fierce intensity.

"You look so pathetic like this, just a hole to use." He releases your hair abruptly, his hands returning to your hips, nails digging in.

With his last ounce of strength, he pulls your hips back, lifting them, positioning you on your knees. You attempt to prop yourself up with your hands, but there's no strength left, so you remain with your cheek pressed to the mattress. From this new angle, he can penetrate even deeper, turning your screams into whimpers of excruciating pleasure mixed with pain, your arousal now dripping down both your thighs.

"No, no..." you whisper, barely audible amidst your whimpers. "Fuck..." Your voice fades as your mouth hangs open, drooling onto the pillow, your fingers clutching the sheets.

"Yeah, I know, I know," Aemond replies, a small, genuine smile curling the corners of his lips. "Cum for me, cum nice and sweet for me." His hand comes down, delivering a sharp slap directly onto your clit.

Your hips instinctively try to escape, but he secures you with an arm around your waist, keeping you still, taking all he gives like the good girl he knows you are. He spits into his free hand, then returns it to your heat, circling and stimulating your clit, squeezing and flicking it, feeling it pulse under his harsh touch. Your walls constrict around him, signaling how close you are.

"Aemond, Aemond..." you try to warn, but the sensation overwhelms you before you can finish.

Your walls clamp down, a loud moan breaking free from your lips as your body convulses, your thighs trembling uncontrollably. Aemond's eyes roll back, the sensation of you gripping him so tightly driving him over the edge. A growl escapes him, more beast than man, as he wraps both arms around your waist, pressing his cheek to your back. He thrusts deep one final time, holding you there, ensuring every last drop of his release is spent inside you until you're left utterly spent. His cock pulses within you, matching the rhythm of your own spasms.

Your body collapses forward, and he follows, bracing himself so as not to crush you. He observes your closed eyes, your body sliding into what looks like a deep, heavy sleep. He loves you like this—silent, immobile, utterly vulnerable. The thought of your helplessness reignites his arousal, despite himself.

With a sigh, he withdraws from you, flopping onto the bed beside you. The room reeks of sex, mingled with the remnants of cocaine still in his nostrils and your taste, seared into his memory. You don't move, just manage to close your mouth with effort, your jaw sore. You don't anticipate tenderness or kisses; you know better than that. Silence fills the space, punctuated only by the sound of your breathing.

"What did you did with the girl?" you hear yourself asking, despite knowing better. Maybe you want to know, or maybe it's just the impulse of the moment.

"It's none of your fucking business," comes the expected, sharp reply. "Shut up and go to sleep." His tone leaves no room for further discussion. After moments like these, he's never in the mood for conversation, unwilling to soften because you've drained him with that perfect pussy.

He turns his back to you, lying on his side, and silence envelops you both. He doesn't want to talk, doesn't want interaction. He doesn't even want to hear your voice right now. Because, fuck, how much he truly craves all of that.

#moder aemond #aemond targaryen #aemond x reader #x reader #ewan mitchell #ewan nation #aemond #fanfic #hotd aemond #house of the dragon #smut #dead dove do not eat #prince aemond #martin in the modern world #aemond one eye #modern #modern aemond x reader #dead dove fic

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speed-world · 6 months ago

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Hi, I'm not sure if you'll see my request, but I want to ask. Whooh.. [worried and worried] So calm... can I ask you to write Cookie Run Kingdom Self-awareness Au with a human child y/n? And what does the ancients and the cookies of darkness have to do with the fact that their world is just a game? Well, when the ancients and the cookies of darkness found out about this, all the cookies would want to get to know child y/n and the Dark Enchantress changed her mind from leading the world and then a new dispute began about who would protect and take care of child y/n. [If possible, then let y/n get into the midst of the final battle of the Ancients against the Dark Enchantress cookie and if you don't mind, then let the character of little y/n be the most attractive and sweet in the world and his appearance charming so much that even the trading monsters and cake hounds did not want to cause any harm and even pomegranate cookies and Licorice cookies were kind to baby y/n] I would very much like you to tell me this sweet story about it. ^^

(Sorry this took so long, I really hope this is to your liking, as I wrote it with the idea of a school age child [6-12] and I didn’t do everything in the request)

Terrifying New Dawn

Everything was dark around you, so much so that you couldn’t see your own hand in front of your face. The last thing you remember clearly was playing on your phone before going to sleep, and now you were waking up here….in a deforested area with dark and red shadows clouding the sky. You had so many questions: Where are your parents? Where are you?? Why are…the large walls surrounding you so tasty looking?! As you stirred, you heard the muttering of smaller beings that surrounded you. Shock and confusion were written on all of their faces as they just stared at you lying down…

“It seems like they’re waking up…how on Earthbread did this even happen?”

“I…I have no idea. Why would a child of the Witches suddenly come down here, during a war of all things…?”

Your vision began to clear up more, and you quickly realized where you were. You were surrounded by Cookies…and you recognized all of them!! These were all recognizable faces from the game you were playing earlier: CookieRun: Kingdom! How exciting is this!! Granted, you also realized something more grim than exciting…you’re still you: a human child in a game world of Cookies. You were dang near a giant to them, and they looked scared of you…how can you convince them you aren’t a threat? Maybe…just say hello?

“Pure Vanilla, Dark Cacao, Hollyberry, Golden Cheese, White Lily, and even Dark Enchantress Cookie?! H-hello…it’s really cool to see you all-“

“T-this child knows us?! They wouldn’t be…a baker or a witch, would they?!”

Okay…not the reaction you wanted…but how do you explain yourself to them? You most certainly aren’t a “child of the Witches,” nor are you a Witch at all!! Would telling the truth hurt? No…it couldn’t hurt!! It’s just the truth, and your parents always told you that lying wasn’t good for anyone, so telling the truth must be perfect!!

“No, no, I’m nothing like that! I’m just a kid that was playing your cool game! I don’t know what happened to my phone though…but I was playing as you guys in this exact moment, where you were fighting each other! Neat, right?”

Your childish innocence only made things worse. The Cookies around you froze in complete shock from the slow realization, a truth far more painful than the one Dark Enchantress Cookie was dead set on making others see. They were pixels on a screen,…predetermined script for you to mess around with, …fake…. If it wasn’t obvious, they weren’t happy with this realization at all, especially the one who’s apparently been forced to play the villain’s role…

“What…what kind of perverse joke is this? You mean to tell me that my ambitions, everything I’ve worked tirelessly for, my life…has been worthless this entire time?! The truth I meant to share with all Cookiekind…is nothing more than wasted breath compared to this…”

Dark Enchantress Cookie stood utterly defeated, still trying to process what reality now means to her. The Ancients, ironically, were united with Dark Enchantress here. None of them knew what to properly make of their lives now. But, there was now a more pressing issue: you. You were a child, a lost one at that. You had no home to go to, no family to look after you, and you were rather…unfitted for the Cookie world as you were now. Oddly enough, the first one to address this was none other than Dark Enchantress herself!

“Ah, yes….despite everything, you, child, are our greatest concern of the moment. Seeing as how all I’ve strived for is now utterly meaningless, I’ve changed my mind. I no longer have any desire to continue this war with you Ancient heroes, or any other Cookies of the matter. From now on, this child is my concern, and I’ll watch over them as I see fit.”

“W-what?! You can’t be the one to watch over them! You’d misguide and harm them, and no matter who they are, they don’t deserve that harsh life!”

“All you do is assume rather than listen…I’ve made it abundantly clear that I have no more interest in any of my former ideals, as they clearly have no substance anymore. If it makes you happy to satisfy your role as a ‘hero’, then we can all help this child adjust to this world properly. Surely if we come together with our magic and wits, we can at least ideally make them a body better suited to live amongst us, wouldn’t you agree~?”

The Ancients stared at each other for what seemed like an eternity to decide your fate, before one radiant Ancient approached you. She looked up at your towering stature with welcoming eyes.

“Child, do know that this is ultimately your decision. The last thing either of us would want is to do anything to you that could harm you. Your safety and wellbeing is our shared priority, but you could pose a danger to us in the state you’re currently in. If you so wish, we can find a way to assist you to live in this world without issue until we find a way to bring you back to your home…what do you say?”

It felt like no matter what you chose, you’d be completely safe and cared for no matter what. You noticed that as you were pondering, a horde of cake hounds and other monsters of Dark Enchantress’s forces circled you and virtually showered you with affection, which you found so adorable!! The cake hounds would play around your large body and playfully puppy kiss you!

It’s clear as day that these Cookies care for you, first and foremost, and everything else around you did as well. They wouldn’t cause you harm, they wouldn’t even want you to cry or be afraid, they loved you like nothing else, and hoped that your new life here wouldn’t be anything to be afraid of!

#crk x reader #cookie run kingdom #cookie run kingdom x reader #cookie run x reader #cr kingdom #dark enchantress crk #dark enchantress cookie x reader #dark enchantress cookie #dark cacao cookie x reader #dark cacao cookie #pure vanilla cookie x reader #pure vanilla cookie #hollyberry cookie x reader #hollyberry cookie #white lily cookie x reader #white lily cookie #golden cheese cookie x reader #golden cheese cookie

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vivianbernadetteaurora · 6 months ago

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Astrological placements

I’ve noticed in the acting industries there is a lot of Scorpio Sun, and Aries moons.🌓 mainly the porn industry the acting the reality TV or any other kind of industry.If you look it up and you’ll see exactly what I mean the Kardashians 2 of them have Aries placements Kendall is a Aries moon with a Scorpio sun so there you go kris is a Scorpio 🌞

alt alternative girls either have a lot of air replacements, fireplace Ments and possibly water rising

Can moons the easiest people to vent to because they like to vent themselves, especially me who is a Scorpio 🌒 to the love of my life was a cancer moon and we used to sit in bitch all day, sense of that we just both needed to learn about our emotions a lot

As I’ve said before, Pisces moons of cult, who like to think that they can make women be exactly the way they want them to be and it’s proven to work here were a few examples Kanye West, Hugh Hefner on a larger scale, and Prince on a large scale to

Cancer women as it was some of the most strongest women I’ve ever ever met in my life, they hold extremely well, and not crybabies like everybody calls them to them in the house and everything they’ve ever owned has been in their house.

Aries or actually very nosy people,. on the down low.

Sagittarius people are actually very passive aggressive, the rising ones and other placements same with Libra moons 🌙 I know two people are close to me who have this placement both placements, don’t know which one is which sometimes.

Capricorn mars very weird in bed, like a dead stare and if you’re into that and you love them, maybe it’s not so bad but when I was with someone who was supposed to love, it was very creepy

Scorpio Mars, are the best in bed they’re so dirty they will literally let you do anything, golden showers putting stuff up you know where, and letting you Degrate them.

Andrew Tate, is a Pisces Mars, and they’re actually very good at debates and delegating.

And being objective. they are, quite good at playing fake as well, look at Paris Hilton and she did it for years. She did the baby voice the blue contacts.

Cancer rising can come off is quite an abrasive, but I think there’s some of the best parents and some of the best people too .

#fypage #astro observations #astro placements #astro community #astrology #astrology observations #astro notes #astroblr

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nenoname · 4 months ago

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Journal 3’s references to Stan

Post-Portal Ford

"How is it that I am back? It turns out that despite my warnings and possibility of global catastrophe, Stanley managed to re-activate the portal and bring me back to my home dimension. While his intentions might have been pure, he was just as careless bringing me back as he was knocking me through in the first place. He destroyed the portal in the process, risked endangering the entire fabric of reality, and even found himself the target of a federal manhunt by the U.S. governement (a logical progression from his days in the principal's office)."

"When I first saw him, I assumed I had once again found myself in an alternate parallel dimension! Gone was the stubborn mullet-haired, frostbitten vagabond who had pushed me into the portal many years earlier, replaced by a wrinkly carnival barker with my father's face, fez, and girdle.

I'd spent the last 30 years contemplating what I might do if I saw Stanley again. Would I even be able to look him in the eye after what he did? Would I apologize for shutting him out of my life?"

"As it turned out, instinct took over and I punched him right in the face. I feel kind of bad about that!

Face- Inherited Dad's nose and Mom's untrustworthy tongue.

Gut- I've spent the last 30 years keeping up an extensive exercise and diet regimen. Stanley... hasn't.

Suit- Dad's suit, which he gave me after graduation. He thought I'd wear it for my wedding. I thought I'd wear it to accept an award. Instead, Stanley has used it to trick tourists and sell key chains."

"Machinery- Operated my portal like a monkey pretending to be a mechanic. Half of the instruments are held together with duct tape.

Yes, despite the extra pounds and wrinkles, Stanley is still the irresponsible, shortcut-loving overgrown child I remember from the past. Most unbelievable: his first thought upon seeing me again was to expect a thank-you - a THANK YOU - after destroying my life!

Even worse, he spent the last 30 years avoiding the law by faking his own death, impersonating me, and scamming the local townsfolks with a moneymaking ruse so absurd it would even make my profit-loving father blush. Once a cheater, always a cheater. And it turns out he's become a fraud for a living. I nearly fainted when I saw what he had done to..."

[THE MYSTERY SHACK] "Unbelievable. Once a haven of scientific study, the cabin I built with my grant money has been transformed by Stanley over the years into a hokey freak show that mocks everything about the study of the paranormal!

Signage- There are legal disclaimers in almost-impossible-to-see fine print painted up and down nearly every entryway. It's a wonder Stanley hasn't been sued yet.:

“Walking around my old lab, I feel like a dead man’s ghost haunting a strange fun house mirror version of his past life, I resolve to take back my home and rebuild the life that Stanley has taken from me.”

“The strangest thing about [Soos] is his utter idolization of my brother Stanley.”

"At least there is some GOOD news: I am a great uncle! (Or "grunkle," as Stanley seems oddly insistent on saying.) Apparently, Sherman Pines's grandkods have been staying with Stanley for the summer. (It's hard to believe the parents would trust these kids with Stanley; they clearly thought he was ME!)"

[Mabel] "Shares the family sweet tooth. Diet seems to consist solely of items with the word ‘gummy’ in them. I will need to discuss nutrition with Stanley.”

[Dipper] “Observations: 1) Constantly sweating. Perhaps he takes after Stanley. (…) 4) Rank odor. Clearly hasn’t bathed recently. Stanley should never be put in charge of children!”

“It is just as I feared; apparently, Stanley’s reckless use of the machine overtaxed it and ripped a tear in the dimensional fabric- the same way an overheated oven might burn a hole in kitchen linoleum.”

“Containment dome- A home for the Rift. Admittedly, I was inspired by the snow globes in Stanley’s gift shop.”

“When I tried to share my burdens with my brother, he knocked me into the portal, separating me from my home for 30 years.”

“Stanley always mocked my love of [DD&MD], and even some of my college friends called it "Girlfriend Repellant.”“

"Well, the harm in showing the [infinity sided die] to Dipper turned out to be quite large. During one of our games, my hotheaded brother got his hands on it and accidentally conjured this jerk.”

“I’m proud to say that the Pines family was able to beat the wizard at his own game. Stan’s contribution was (of course) to cheat our way to victory.”

“Ironically, in the multiverse I’m just as wanted as Stanley! But my crimes had a noble purpose”

“Stan would have loved this place, but it just made me depressed. Although I had a good run in the Gambling Dimension, the dimensional bouncers ended up kicking me out for counting cards! What are the odds?”

“[The Oracle] looked deep into my eyes and said I had the face of the man who was destined to destroy Bill.”

[A Better World] “On this Earth, I was never pushed into the portal by Stan. On this Earth, my brother listened to me and took Journal 1 away from Gravity Falls.”

“I reentered the world of my youth to face a brother I had not seen in 30 years. My frustration was indescribable- once again, my brother’s actions had sabotaged everything I had ever worked toward.”

“To help Dipper understand, I borrowed Stanley’s car, and we drove until we reached the town border of Gravity Falls.”

“I suggested it would be a good time for Stan to take the kids on that road trip he’s been talking about while I puzzle over [the cracked Rift]”

Other sections: Pre-Portal, Post-Weirdmageddon, Lost Journal pages + Ford's letters

#gravity falls #stanley pines #stan pines #ford pines #stanford pines #journal 3 #stan twins #part 1 is hidden by tumblr cos it hates pre portal ford's moping for some reason the link is at the bottom

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web-novel-polls · 7 months ago

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WN Women Bonus Polls #2: MXTX

[Propaganda below] - Spoilers Warning!

A-Qing from Grandmaster of Demonic Cultivation / MDZS

Submission: Incredibly clever. Fakes blindness to survive as a street orphan and pickpocket people. Successfully deceives a magnificent liar into believing she's really blind for years. Tries to hinder said liar's schemes and save people from him even after she's dead and actually blind and unable to speak.

Jiang Yanli from Grandmaster of Demonic Cultivation

“Madam, A-Xian is my younger brother. Him being humiliated by others, to me, isn’t just a small matter.”

Submission: She is the sweetest person to ever exist. She's a wonderful big sister to her brother Jiang Cheng and her shidi/adoptive brother Wei Wuxian. She is not just a sister but also very maternal to them, as her parents are not the best. She is also the mother of Jin Ling, but sadly died before she could raise him. Her husband, Jin Zixuan, died in a confrontation with Wei Wuxian, but she did not blame him and even sacrificed herself for him. She would've made the best mother to Jin Ling, just as she was the best sister to Jiang Cheng and Wei Wuxian. She also makes the best soup ever. I would die to taste her soup. Then I would come back to life because that's how much the soup nurtures you.

Jian Lan from Heaven Official’s Blessing / TGCF

Submission: She has unconditional love for her very disgusting and disturbing undead fetus child. That's a mother right there.

Wiki Link

Ling Wen from Heaven Official’s Blessing / TGCF

[No Propaganda Submitted]

One of the Three Tumors - three Heavenly Officials that have some of the worst reputations after Xie Lian (“the laughing stock of the three realms”) - and was accused of, like, killing a dude or smth but was accepted back into Heaven on the sole basis that she’s the only administratively competent god

Liu Mingyan from The Scum Villain’s Self-Saving System

Submission: Head disciple of Xian Shu Peak. Said to be so beautiful she wears a veil over her face so as to not distract others. Writes popular erotic fanfiction about her older brother's shixiong/her shibo and his male disciple.

Luo Qingyang (Mianmian) from Grandmaster of Demonic Cultivation

Submission: She stood up against a whole bunch of powerful men and dared to speak a different opinion. Then she just up and left the cultivation world because she had no more time for their bullshit. At the end of the novel, she's a rogue cultivator married to a former merchant with her own daughter named Mianmian. We should all be like her.

Mod Propaganda:

Highly principled and strong-willed. Immediately left her clan after they mocked her for supposedly having feelings for Wei Wuxian when she literally just mentioned he didn't kill indiscriminately. Now living her best life as a rogue cultivator with her husband and child.

She saw the injustice of her own clan firsthand and decided, “I'm not going to be a part of this. You're not listening to me, so fuck y'all.” And honestly, based.

Wiki Link

Ning Yingying from The Scum Villain’s Self-Saving System

Submission: She goes through great character development. At first, she's dense and kind of annoying, even a little selfish. But she grows up to be a strong, intelligent, and intuitive woman.

Additional Propaganda

Sha Hualing from The Scum Villain’s Self-Saving System

Submission 1: I can't stand her and yet I love her. What does that tell you?

Submission 2: her cringefail losergirl swag <3 girlie constantly in situations and she put herself into most of them

Mod Propaganda

A fierce demon who attacked the Cang Qiong Mountain sect in SVSSS and became one of Luo Binghe’s wives in Proud Immortal Demon Way who often fought with Liu Mingyan and Qin Wanyue

My fav description of her is something along the lines of, “trying to be the steal-your-man girl who fails about it so badly”

She’s ambitious, she’s ruthless, she’s intelligent - If you support women’s rights, you should also support women’s wrongs (/light-hearted)

Su Xiyan from The Scum Villain’s Self-Saving System

[No propaganda submitted]

Additional Propaganda #1

Additional Propaganda #2

Wen Qing from Grandmaster of Demonic Cultivation

Submission: She is everything! She doesn't get enough screen time in the novel, but that proves just how amazing she is to make such an impression in spite of it. She is a great big sister, to both her brother Wen Ning and the protagonist Wei Wuxian. She is stern but kind. She's a doctor. She throws needles at people. She's everything!

Previous Propaganda (MXTX Side Characters Tournament):

Submission 1: Doctor, mad scientist, war criminal, protective big sister... she has the range!! Submission 2: Wen Qing my beloved!! She did surgery on a grape. Mad genius for real. Also a loving sister with a very sharp tongue and maybe no sense of how far is too far. Can't wait for them to find her alive in a Koi Tower basement! Submission 3: Justice for my girl!!!! Submission 4: She's bitchy and pragmatic and cares deeply and did an unprecedented operation (experimental and nonconsensual!), what's not to love? Also she deserved better.

Yushi Huang from Heaven Official’s Blessing / TGCF

Submission: She slit her own throat to save her country. She's very compassionate and always willing to help others. She also gives people vegetables.

Additional Propaganda:

Additional propaganda for Yushi Huang: She's so competent that she's got the womanzier of the series consistently on the back foot, and she doesn't even care to notice. She's here to dish out rain and that's it.

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auspicioustidings · 6 months ago

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Ae Fond Kiss - Part 7

My Heart's in the Highlands

Summary: You speak with your kid and establish a new normal. A conversation is had with Johnny. Words: 2.6k TWs: mention of miscarriage

Parts: 1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7

The drive home was silent. Your mind was a mess but you tried to slow down your racing thoughts and put your parent head on. It was so hard right now to be a parent when you felt like an out of control child. You tried to run through a script in your mind, a way to explain what was going on to Joey without bringing your own bitterness into it.

The kid in question seemed no more willing to have the conversation than you were. He was staring out the window. He seemed exhausted. You could understand that, the emotional gauntlet he had been going through with his parents not even there to help… God you felt awful.

“...let’s get the mega-ultra sundae” you decided, indicating to turn off towards the ice-cream parlour.

“That’s for like 20 people. Luna from school said her brothers tried to eat it all and they threw up.”

“How many brothers does she have again?”

“Four. One of them does football at uni, two are on the high school team and the last one just won a boxing competition.”

“Well I guess we’re about to embarrass Luna’s brothers.”

You glanced over to him and he looked to you, both with tentative smiles. This was still your kid, you were still his mother, and you were going to eat enough ice-cream that you’d both spend the evening curled up on the sofa feeling sick and watching bad movies. You didn’t know how you ever got so lucky. You could strangle both of his dads, but you could never not appreciate the hand they had in this brilliant boy.

While you immediately knew the mega-ultra sundae was a mistake when the server struggled to put it on the table due to the weight, you both grinned anyway. The first few spoonfuls you just took the time to think about what to say.

“Did you really think he was dead?” Joe asked, carefully digging for marshmallows.

“We both did, me and your dad. I think… I think uncle John might have known he wasn’t and I’m very angry with him over it” you answered, aiming for complete honesty.

“Was the stuff you said about him true?”

You thought on that while you took a mouthful of what you had thought was mostly ice cream but was almost 100% whipped cream. You had told Joe all about Johnny even if you lied about just what he was to him. You had told him how brave he was, how loving. How when he got really excited you and Simon could barely understand half the words that came out of his mouth. You’d told him about his temper, how he would explode and then after need to nap it off before profusely apologising. And God was he clever even if he seemed like a big dumb idiot sometimes. He could make an explosive out of anything and on New Years he usually did.

“Yeah. We never lied about the kind of man he was, just… it felt scary to tell you he was your father. We should have told you. We shouldn’t have hidden it because we were scared about what you might think.”

“What would I think?”

You could still hear Johnny yelling in your head. You were afraid Joe would think what he did, that you loving Simon even when you thought he was dead was a betrayal. Although now you knew that you had been betrayed it felt like such a stupid fear.

“I didn’t want you to think of your dad differently because he wasn’t your birth father. And I… for some people me falling in love with Johnny’s best friend after he died was wrong. I just didn’t want you to think that.”

Joey thought on that for a while as he kept working on the sundae which didn’t seem like it had decreased in volume at all. You hated putting all of this on a 9 year old. He should be telling you all about the football game and explaining again how he could build a computer in Minecraft, not considering how he felt about finding out a war hero whose death was faked by the military was his father. God you hoped Kyle hadn’t known.

“I think it’s ok” he said eventually as he chewed through a chunk of meringue.

“Yeah?”

“Yeah. It’s pretty cool that I have another dad. Does he always sound like that? Did he really take on a whole town of bad guys and win with dad?”

You shoved another spoonful in your mouth even though you were feeling a little nauseous because if you didn’t try and distract yourself with something you’d cry. He was supposed to yell at you, he was supposed to be mad and turn off his hearing aids so he couldn’t listen to your apologies. But that wasn’t the kid you and Simon had raised. Yeah he could get angry, but he was so good at cooling off and moving on and fixing the issue.

So you told him all about Johnny but this time in present tense, you both gave the mega-ultra sundae your best shot and then you ran to the bathroom as soon as you got home to throw up which your kid did not let you live down as you watched a bunch of superhero movies.

–

You didn’t think anyone but you three could pull it off, but somehow life went on. Simon and Johnny arranged a meeting with you and it was decided who would do what. School runs were completely off your plate, they’d share that between them and it seemed like a good way to have J be able to get to know his biological father in small, casual chunks.

You did offer to let them stay in the guest room, but Simon could read you well enough to know that right now you really did not want to be around them and you were offering for the sake of keeping the peace, so he said no. He was staying in an airbnb nearby and Johnny to your surprise outright bought himself a flat the second week. Not really your business, but part of you felt your heart break that he had just accepted so quickly that you’d be separate for the rest of your lives.

You never asked about what was going on with the two of them. Maybe it was cowardly, but you didn’t want to know. If they were together, then it would feel like you were always just the second choice and now they would be happy without you. If they weren’t, then it would feel like they were only holding back out of their love and respect for you which was no doubt making them miserable. Did you want them to be miserable? You didn’t know, the answer changed depending on the time of day.

You’d had a dream this morning of the two of them together, had woken up wet and needy and had let your hand wander between your legs to finish yourself off to the fantasy of it. Afterwards you promptly threw up and spent the rest of the day in bed feeling awful until J got back from football practice. Johnny had taken him and they were laughing together. He had taken one look at you and invited himself in, saying he’d order take away and get Joe to bed after dinner so you should just relax. You felt too ill and exhausted to really argue.

Joe was in bed and you were tidying away the leftovers when Johnny came back downstairs into the kitchen. It was the first time the two of you had been alone together.

“Sorry, you used tae love cashews” he said.

“I still do. The place is usually really good as well, just really couldn’t stomach them today” you replied, frowning at the container as you put it away because it really had been sort of gross but Joey had tried some and said he’d eat the leftovers.

“I can go grab something from the shops if ye want? Ye didnae eat an awful lot.”

You closed the fridge and raised an eyebrow at him.

“..I’m naw Senga’ing!” he protested, knowing that raised eyebrow well.

“You’re Senga’ing a little.”

“Naw I’m not!”

“I dunno Johnny, if it worries like a Senga and fusses like a Senga…”

He threw a tea towel at you and you laughed. Senga was your old neighbour's very moody hen who treated the two of you like unruly chicks whenever you were out the back garden. It was sort of comforting to know the old Johnny from nearly a decade ago was still here, but bittersweet that he wasn’t yours anymore.

“I…” you started, but trailed off because you didn’t know what you wanted to say.

You had spent weeks with the anger at finding out what had happened being difficult to predict. Sometimes you felt it so intensely, sometimes it faded away. It was all so long ago now. You were a different person. You all were.

“I shouldnae have… well let’s be honest there’s a hunner things I shouldnae have done, but just going for recently I shouldnae ever have tried tae say it was wrong of ye to marry Simon. Especially naw when I knew myself that he…” he trailed off.

“That he’s easy to fall in love with” you finished for him, hearing almost a tone of commiseration in your voice.

“Is easy the word?”

“Fair enough. I hated him at the start. Considered breaking things off with you more than once just so I didn’t have to be around him anymore.”

“I broke two of my fingers trying tae break his nose the first month on the task force.”

You gave a dramatic gasp and pointed accusingly at him.

“And you never told me?! How did I not know this?”

“Cause it’s a pure riddy. Tried tae punch him with his mask on and he didnae feel a fucking thing. Didnae even try get me intae trouble for it either, just ordered me tae go to medical like a pure dick.”

You could imagine how mad that would have made Johnny and you could absolutely imagine how smug Simon would have been about the whole thing. One regret you had was the times you avoided going out with Johnny’s friends because you sort of wished now you had seen them together more. At the time you were young and so sure that Simon Riley was just a misogynistic tosser that you avoided him and you knew now you had probably missed out on so much. Maybe you’d have noticed how they felt about one another had you given him a chance.

“I wanted to strangle him so much at the start. No clue how it turned into what it did. He didn’t even propose with a ring, just asked if I wanted to get married in the kitchen on a whim.”

Johnny looked horrified on your behalf.

“Absolute roaster! How in the fuck did both of us fall for such a wanker?”

The two of you took a beat to decide how you felt about this all being out in the open and then laughed together until you cried. God it was nice to just laugh about it. You’d never get over what the two of them did a decade ago, not really, but you didn’t want it to turn you bitter. You didn’t want to forget all the good things. And you wanted them both in Joseph’s life, you wanted him to get all of the love and support you knew these men were capable of.

You wiped away a tear and sighed, leaning on the counter and looking at Johnny with a sort of sad smile.

“I wish you had just told me how you felt about him. It’s not that you fell in love with him that hurt, it was that you didn’t trust me enough to tell me.”

Fuck, you guessed you knew how Joe felt now. Too scared to tell him the truth because you had imagined the worst of his reaction.

“I was a shite husband. Naw even just what happened with Si, but all of it. Should never have taken that job without talking tae ye first. All well and good saying it was for your protection, but I should have trusted that ye wouldnae have told anyone, that ye’d have done your part if ye’d agreed tae it. Should never have taken that choice off of you.”

“Why the change of heart now?”

“Guess I’ve done some growing up. Over the last 9 years it’s naw been the soldiers that have been saving the world most of the time, it’s been the civilians. I used tae think I was some big hero just because I wore the uniform, but I was just being an arrogant prick. I hate that I treated ye like ye were less capable of making decisions because ye didnae have a set of fucking epaulettes. Never really deserved ye.”

“I’m sorry that you took it all on yourself. It must have been awful being alone all this time in enemy territory. Look, I’m pissed that you took the job, Price has been laying low because he knows I’m going to boot him in the balls next time I see him, but I know you did it to help people. And for what it’s worth, I’m sorry I never told you about… about that night with Simon.”

“I’m so so fucking sorry ye went through that bonnie, I cannae imagine” he said, and you knew he was sincere with the moisture gathering in his eyes.

It was an old wound for you now, but this was new for him you realised. He hadn’t know until a few weeks ago that Joey may have had an older sibling. Remembering how painful it had been back then before time had healed you, you felt the sudden urge to hug him knowing there was a good chance this was still so raw for him. So you did.

He held you tight and buried his face in your hair like he used to. He smelled almost the same, although there was something a little less wild about him now. How long had it been since he had just been held? 9 years on mission, 9 years of the world on his shoulders. Fuck you almost wished Simon had known, then at least he would have had him to come back to without the complication of the lie between them.

You stayed like that for a while, just clinging to one another in the kitchen. God you had missed him so damn much. You were just so angry that he had been alive all this time. So much time wasted. So many choices that could have changed things. If he had told you back then how he felt about Simon, what would you have done? If you had told him about the miscarriage, would it have changed things? But it was too late for any of that now.

So when you broke apart and you took a breath to ask if he’d like to stay over, he beat you to it and said he’d best get going. Probably for the best.

“Why did you buy the place anyway? I thought you hated it down here, heart in the highlands and all that.”

“My heart’s in the highlands, but the highlands was never really about the place, it was about the person there in it with me. But the flat’s also close tae the uni Joe said he wants tae go to. I ken that he’s only little now so he might change his mind, but I wanted it tae be there for him just incase and it’s naw like I cannae buy another place for him if he goes somewhere else.”

You shoved him out of the door before you could go against your own best interests and kiss him.

#mhairiwrites #soap x reader #ghost x reader

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eeunoia · 7 months ago

Text

ENHYPEN Series

sinag | psh.

chapter twelve

pairings: park sunghoon x reader

synopsis: waiting for a great plot twist in your life, the ruthless and powerful mafia boss park sunghoon forced his way in to it.

word count: 4k

warnings: contains harrassment, violence, guns, killings, abuse, obsessive love & other stuff. if you can't take this stuff, feel free to scroll away. let me know if i missed some. (please be responsible and avoid fics that contains warnings that can trigger you.)

note: reblogs and replies are highly encouraged. i truly appreciate your messages to me. it keeps me going. please leave comments and tags when you reblog! thank you so much, stay safe and ily!

“Thank you.” you smiled gently at the cabin crew once she placed your tea in front of you. She flashed back this kind smile before she puts Sunghoon’s whiskey in front of him.

Your eyes trailed from the whiskey then to the man staring right at you. It almost made you gagged when you met his piercing gaze. Your stomach churns, feeling slightly on edge.

“You didn’t even say thank you.”

Sunghoon was amused. That in the middle of this situation, you still have the time to call him out because he didn’t said thank you to the cabin crew. He couldn’t help but to wonder how innocent and pure you are.

“She’s working for me. It's just right for her to do that, she’s just doing what I paid her to do.” the words coming out from his mouth almost made your ears bleed. It was unbelievable for you.

You know he isn’t nice, but he still just proves you he can be even much worst.

“Once we arrive, you will live in my mansion.” he then continued.

Your brows furrowed hardly and you carefully settle your cup down, making sure it won’t break or anything. The news just shocked you to the bone.

“Pardon?” you faked a chuckle. “You’re joking, right?”

He took a sip from his liqour and shows no reaction to his face. “Tell me, Aelia...” he says in a very husky tone.

He bat his eyes slowly while keeping his stares right at you.

“Do I look like I’m joking to you?” his placid expression and dark eyes sure tells you that he’s dead serious.

“B-But I can’t! I have a family, my parents will worry about me,” a joke. It was a big joke, you are lying because you’re pretty much sure that they won’t even care if you suddenly disappear.

Oh maybe they will because nobody will give them money anymore, but basically nothing more than that.

He licks his lips, “I will take care of it. I’ll talk to them.”

“How about my j-job? I need to show up to my office because I’m the breadwinner to my family. I h-have to send money to them.” facts. That’s very much true. You did lost contact with your parents right after they kicked you out, but then after figuring about your new found job, they started asking you for money again.

“I’ll support them, don’t worry. I won’t let them starve. And for your job...” he stalls his words, eyes wonders far remembering that you are working in a company that he actually owned.

He smiled inwardly thinking of transferring the ownership into yours instead. Right. That could work. In that way, you will be the CEO of that company, you don’t ever need to worry about being late or absent most of the times.

But then he also remembers what Jake told him. His friend mentions something about not informing you that he owns the company yet. He said it will probably cause him trouble more than benefit him.

“You don't have to work anymore. Quit your job.” he instructs strictly.

You’re completely caught off-guard so you raised an eyebrow at him, “Excuse me? I’m not going to quit my job.”

You love your job. It’s been the first time ever that you actually enjoyed your workplace. The employees were always nice at you and don’t hate you for basically doing nothing bad towards them.

“I will take care of you and everything you need so there’s no need for that.” he sounded so confident. Like the type of confidence that gives you the impression that he can buy you everything.

“Why?” you asked finding him unbelievable. “I don’t understand why you will support me and take care of me. I’m not your wife? We’re not even in a relationship.”

Because the way he said those things, its only applicable for a husband assuring his wife that he will take care of them. That she can lean on him and don’t worry about anything anymore.

His eyes brightens a bit, it was hard to tell but you manage to see it. Even if its just in a very short time.

“Do you want to change that? Want to be my wife? Let’s get married.” you are taken aback even more. The way he surprises you over and over is amusing.

He’s really losing his mind.

Your shoulder fell as you keep your stares at him. “Mr. Park, look—”

“Sunghoon.” he cuts you off. “Call me Sunghoon.”

You gulped, couldn't handle how soft the tone he just used. The way he softly said it almost sent you to oblivion. Heart thumping and stomach churning. Crazy how this man affects you just by talking gently.

“I’m dead serious here. I don’t know anything about you except for the fact that you’re Park Sunghoon, a mafia who does a lot of illegal stuff and the one who kidnapped me.”

Sunghoon’s trying so hard to listen, after all he doesn’t want to miss any of the things you’re saying. But the way you look so beautiful in front of him is very distracting. The way your lips moves everytime you talk, your hands gestures that you unconsciously do and your facial expression that absolutely adorable.

“So you want to know me more?”

Your lips hangs open, unable to find the right words to say in order to make this gorgeous man understand.

His intense gaze and smirk slowly forming his lips made you blush. It still doesn’t make sense how someone this good looking exist at your lifetime. This man have the face of somebody from a manga.

“All right. Let’s go on dates then.” his grin just grew wider at the amount of ideas for your dates that occupies his mind.

He’s down bad for you, willing to do and give everything just to please you. He knew he’s in trouble and that soon enough he’ll be a slave to you. But that’s the least of his concern.

You can drain his bank accounts, which is not possible, as long as he can have you.

“Wear this.” he said as he place this elegant dress at the bed you were laying on moments ago. You looked at it with cautious eyes. They were clearly still puffy with all the crying you just did after you two arrived at his huge mansion last night.

“I don’t want to.”

“I’m not asking. I am telling you to wear it.” he spat and sat down at the chair. He looked extra handsome today, wearing something that surely suits him well.

Your eyes darted at the dress and you can’t help but to admire it. It is undeniably beautiful, but your gaze wanders back to his suit. It doesn’t match his dark clothing.

A sundress with a pastel color, slightly doesn’t go along with his usual formal wear but totally your type of style. It doesn’t look bad, the combination is fine, just gives different dynamic. It perfectly shows how different your personalities are.

“What are you waiting for?” his tone indicates how he’s really out of patience already.

“Do you expect me to change here? In front of them?” you asked sarcastically and even motioned his men.

His eyes turned dark right away, “Leave the room.” he seriously said and without another word, they did leave.

You furrowed your eyes as you watch how he didn’t even budge from his place, “You too.”

He tilted his head at the side, “And why? I want to stay and watch.” he smirked dangerously as he scanned you from head to toe, sending instant shiver to your spine.

You felt heat rush over your cheeks and you tried to hide it by quickly crossing your arms at him. “Do you want me to change or not?”

He rolled his eyes before heaving a sigh as he stood up, “Okay, love. Hurry up.” he mumbled before walking close to you and casually placing a kiss at the side of your head before he heads out.

You were stunned at the sudden affection and you felt your heart racing. Not to mention, he dropped that endearment like a bomb. He’s totally a criminal and everything he does feels illegal.

You sighed and tried calming yourself down. This isn’t the right time to have your heart racing like crazy. He isn’t a nice person.

You head out after putting the dress and scanning yourself at the mirror for two minutes. It looks fine for you, but you feel like it would look better with some make up on and so you did.

Last night after arriving at the airport, you’re escorted into his car. It was a different from the one he used before and kind of made you wonder how many cars does he have.

He soon drove off towards somewhere. You’ve seen these types of vehicle on movies and you knew it can be really fast. But maybe Sunghoon noticed how nervous you are after hearing its roaring engine and drives in a decent speed.

The drive didn’t took long as you notice the car entering this huge gate. Just by the looks of it, you can tell that the person who owns it reeks off of money, which happen to be the same person sitting beside you.

People who wears uniform lined up by the entrance of the main mansion. The property itself is very spacious and you cannot tell how big this land it. Maybe you’ll get a better view in the morning, the dark made it a bit more hard to tell.

“Stay here.” he spat before stepping outside. A pout forms your lips at the way he commands you, but left to just follow it. The plane ride and all that happened prior to this somehow drains you, unable to even put up a fight to escape.

Besides, the view of this wonderful mansion sure took your interest. It was so elegant and beautiful. Something that everybody dreams of living in. A dreamland.

He opens your door and despite the faint glare on your eyes, you mumble a short thank you for him. He smirks then helps you get out from the vehicle.

His serious and placid expression went back the moment he faces his people. It caught your attention and watches how quick he changes his mood.

Everyone bows as you walk pass them and it made you a bit uncomfy. They’re paying respect for Sunghoon and since he’s dragging you to walk along with you, it looks like they’re doing the same thing to you.

It made you feel uneasy and ended up lowering your head for them as well. Greeting them softly while passing by. Sunghoon heard it and glances over his shoulder. He saw how you’re confused on what you’re suppose to do.

It was adorable that he craned his neck too quickly in order to hide the smile forming his lips.

The inside of the mansion is even more breath-taking. Although, you didn’t have much time to admire every part of it since it was really huge and since Sunghoon asked you to be escorted to your room so you can rest.

And now, here you are. Inside one of the big, elegant rooms of his mansion. Staring at your reflection through the big mirrors inside the fancy bathroom. It was like a dream. Even the biggest hotels you’ve been to doesn’t match the luxury of this place.

After realizing you’ve taken so much time preparing and maybe he’s out of patient already, you decided to go. Heart started thumping again out of worry.

When you stepped out from the room, you saw how Sunghoon’s eyes sparkled. He looked amused like as if he just saw something amazing. You can't help but once again blush hardly because you didn’t even fixed yourself that much.

With a few steps he approached closer, “You look so beautiful.” he stated and gently grabbed your hands before he took it to his lips and planted a small kiss.

You’re completely caught off guard and you can feel blood rushing over to your cheeks. The strong urge to resist these feelings inside your stomach are trying hard to put up a fight to unwanted feelings he’s slowly waking inside you. His intense stares are really giving you a hard time. He stood right in front of you gorgeously, his aura screaming nothing but power and dominance.

“You look so beautiful.” he repeated himself like as if the first time he said it was not enough.

With a blushing face, “C-Can you cut it out? It’s the dress that’s pretty.” you tried to avoid his eyes but then something about them kept pulling your gazes back.

Sunghoon tilted his head and leaned closer to your face with a small grin on his pretty lips, he moved his hand then slowly rested it over your waist. With soft strokes he caress it up and down, eyes never leaving your shy ones.

“I disagree. The dress looked pretty only because you're the one wearing it.” he stated firmly and you gulped as he drop a kiss at your cheeks once before guiding you out of that place.

The fresh, cold air felt amazing as it blew over your skin. He opened the car’s door for you and without any complain, you entered.

The few times that the mafia boss visited you to talk clearly taught you some lessons. He gets pissed easily whenever you don’t obey. And putting him into that mood always doesn’t end well. In order to make sure you won’t make your situation even worst, you’ve got to try not to piss him off.

“Where are we going?” you question when he made it at the driver’s seat.

His car, as expected, is like those expensive sports car you’ve only seen in movies. You don’t know much about cars, but it suits him well. This type of vehicle is perfect for the young mafia boss. Looked so cool and just by looking at it is enough to say about his status in life.

He glanced at you for a while as he started the engine. You even saw some of his men taking the vehicles just around where Sunghoon’s car.

“I’m taking you to a proper date. To celebrate that I finally found you.” he said.

Despite knowing the fact that he had been searching for you for years now, you still find it unbelievable. Not that he doesn’t have the resources and money for doing all of that, but the bigger question is why? Why would he do all these things for someone he just met once?

You still cannot understand and believe how someone like him can do all of those for you?

Your stares unconsciously darted at his direction and your stares remained. He looked extremely attractive even when he's just maneuvering the car. His biceps flex whenever he move the steering wheel.

You knew he’s a very dangerous man and not in a million times have the thought of being in a date together with a mafia boss occurred to you. At first, you really don’t believe at such people but after that one time when you witnessed a live shootout, the realization finally dawned onto you.

And now, the main proof sitting right next to you. Driving you and going out with you on a date.

Your heart aches as you watch Sunghoon beside you. The thoughts of how his image and personality strongly contradicts how gentle he treats you makes you feel a bit of hesitation of running away from him.

Something about him makes you want to stay but of course, you also want to be free again and to have your normal life. You know deep inside, you need to do something to get away tonight.

You two eventually arrived at the said fancy restaurant. He stopped his car right in front and a valley rushed to assist for the parking. Sunghoon steps out and walks gracefully on your side to open the door for you. You’re a little hesitant to accept his hand, but decided to do it.

It was a bit cold and rough. For some reason, it sent you a different kind of comfort.

Once you stepped out of his car, you get the chance to roam your eyes around to check the place. From outside, the place looked amazing. There are staffs by the lobby, waiting for customers that will arrive. If it isn’t in the situation, you would be excited and all. Its your dream to actually eat at a place like this.

“Let’s go.” he says before he slowly guided you inside, his big hand resting at the small of your back.

There’s no need to get in line as the staff recognized him right away. He walks closer and smiles brightly then bow his head.

“Mr. Park, this way to your table.”

As usual, Sunghoon didn’t say anything and just guided you gently to the direction where the staff was guiding the two of you.

Once settled at your table, the two of you ordered the food you want to eat. It was mostly him who picked since you don’t know what's the best one to try here. You leave it to him. He seems to be a regular here.

It slightly made you wonder how many girls has he brought here for a date. You frown faintly at the thought.

In the middle of waiting, Sunghoon excused himself to go to the bathroom for a short while and that was your cue to try to ask for help. You glanced around to check if any of his men are just near. When its clear, you wait for the perfect opportunity to make your move.

When one of the waiters approach your table to place the food he ordered, you held him by the arm softly. The man, which you think is in his mid-forty's, stopped and turned to you, confused.

“Yes, ma’am?” his eyes flashes worry, seeing how you’re really scared.

“H-Help me please. I’ve been kidnapped by the man who took me here.” you said right away.

The man’s eyes widen in surprise before he looked around to check the surrounding and check which one are you referring to. Not a lot of people are around but there are some customers by the corners, enjoying their times.

He held your arm gently, “Alright miss. We will help you.” the man said and even ask if you can go with him by the lobby so they can alert the authorities about this.

You agreed without hesitation, letting him guide you back to where you walked inside along with Sunghoon.

When the two of you are about to exit the hall, you happen to meet someone half-way. You can’t explain the look at his eyes when you saw him stare at you coldly then slowly trailed his gaze over to the man who was planning to help you.

“And where do you think are you going?” his low voice quickly sent shivers all over your spine and you felt the man in front of you stiffened.

“M-Mr. Park.” he stuttered, surprised to see him staring coldly at him.

He knew him of course, and just to see him looking that way over him, he felt his knees trembling in fear. He put two into two together and its not long until he realized what he got himself into.

“Who said you can touch her?” he tilts his head, color draining his face.

Sunghoon’s mind was clouded by nothing but jealousy. Here he is, finally with you and the next thing he know, another man was holding your arm, sneaking you away. Stealing you from him. Taking you from him. It was like a trigger. Something inside him snapped.

The man was quick to let go of your arm, like as if being burned by it. Fear present over his face, beads of sweat forming over his forehead and throat starting to feel dry.

“I d-didn’t know.” he tried to defend himself and even tried to raise his hand as sign of surrender.

The man knew it was no use. Sunghoon is known for being very cruel and ruthless. Mercy doesn’t exist in his vocabulary. Once you mess with him, its already over for you. There’s no escape, feet basically buried under the grave.

Sunghoon pulled out a gun and you panicked right away as you watch him pointed it to the poor man. The people around was surprise and scared as well. Some even standing from their tables with unfinished food, getting ready to leave the place just in case.

You noticed some walke closer to see who it was, pissed expression over their faces for probably ruining their day. But once they saw who it was, their faces will turn pale and they’re quickly halt steps. Keeping a safe distance and remained silent to stay away from trouble.

“S-Sunghoon, please!” you said attempting to stop him but you are afraid too. He turned his head and stared at your scared face.

His face remained stern and emotionless. A tear fell from your eyes as you slowly shake you head at him, “You w-wouldn’t--” you shut your eyes as you suddenly crouched down at the floor as you hear him fire the gun with no hesitation.

You heard screams and the whole place then fell silent. When you open your eyes, you almost lose it when you saw the poor man’s cold body laying on the floor. You were dumbfounded and out of your senses, eyes brimming with tears. You didn’t even noticed that he walked closer and picked you up using one of his arm.

He started dragging you out of that place. The staff stayed out of the way, they look beyond horrified. Nobody dares to stop him. He walked with so much arrogance, doesn’t even bothered by what he just did.

Sunghoon was beside you, his head resting over the stirring wheel as his hands shakes for some unknown reason. His breathing were heavy and fast like as if he was trying to calm himself down.

“You k-killed him..” you managed to say when you arrived inside his car.

When it finally manage to compose yourself a bit, tears started streaming down your face. The poor man just died! And it was all your fault.

“You k-killed him! How dare you! You're a monster!” you said and started hitting him nonstop.

He grunted and held your arm to stop you from hitting him more. Your eyes met his cold ones, you can’t describe what kind of emotion was present but one thing’s for sure, he’s raging mad.

“I already warned you not to piss me off.” he hissed and you cried while staring at him.

“J-Just let me go,” your low, but desperate plea tugs something inside Sunghoon’s heart.

For a while, you saw something flickered through his eyes. It was fast but you managed to figure out what it was. Sadness? You can’t even believe someone like him are capable to feel that kind of emotion. For you, he’s heartless.

Even before you can say anything else, he covered your nose with something and you just slowly felt yourself losing consciousness.

“I love you,” he whispered softly before everything went black.

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@rubyanne @map-of-border @hwangjangmi @13tter @candewlsy @simpforniki @classicroyalty @hime98 @moonsclassyslore @ddeonubaby @yeoungie @acciomylove @mymeloem19 @jvngw0n @dreamjerky @minamoons @clar-iii @herasalvatore @nyfwyeonjun @rcveribin @yizhoutv @one16core @soobin-chois @kyutiepeachy @chareadingpurposes @hwalllllllelujah @solelyenha @90sni-ki @nourhan-8 @nikipedia07 @yangbreads @drunkjazed @axartia @all4haru @sta-rie @purplepuppychild @iceeee @wtfhyuck @tobiosbbyghorl @nikililmj @ayayiiie @aeyeree @heeseung-min @in-somnias-world @psh-pjh @hveanlyanqelic @dimplewonie

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trustmypoison · 1 month ago

Text

Calico - Act Three

Choi Y/N is pretty, smart, and funny and she knows it - mostly because she hears it all the time from all the men (read: victims) she dates. She’s about to get a taste of her own medicine.

You can find the masterlist here.

Calico has a sequel called LMLY, if you’re interested.

Genre: (a little) fluff, (quite a bit of) angst, smut, college au, heavily inspired by John Tucker Must Die

Pairing: Joshua x female reader (with mentions of Mingyu x female reader, Woozi x female reader, Seokmin x female reader, Jeonghan x female reader)

TW/CW: MDNI!!, contains smut with no protection mentioned (be safe please!!), mentions of alcohol, food, a whole lot of cyber bullying.

Word count: 8.6k

This is a repost of a previous fic I did. It was one of the first fics that I ever posted on here and I wish I had made some different choices aesthetically. The content will be the same, it will just be a little prettier and more readable.

The drive is quiet, mostly because no one knows what to say. It’s never been this quiet for the three of them, not in 22 years. Not even when it was supposed to be.

Seungcheol and Jeonghan aren’t talking. Two weeks ago, Seungcheol found Jeonghan on campus and just started swinging. Jeonghan ended up with a bloody nose before some of Seungcheol’s teammates nearby could drag Seungcheol off of him. Not as bad as it could have been, but it was a first. They’d never been in a fist fight before, not even as kids on the playground. They ended up in front of the Dean for it too. Thankfully, the Dean let it slide with a warning.

Seungcheol is also not talking to Y/N, specifically because he hadn’t known she slept with Mingyu the night of their birthday party months ago. He’d thought he had a pretty close relationship with his twin sister, but he feels betrayed that he found some thing like that out on twitter of all places.

Jeonghan and Y/N are talking, but barely. The tension is overwhelming. No matter how much they emphasize that they haven’t been sleeping together, no one seems to believe them. Without really discussing it, they decide some distance would be good. He’s insistent that he’s still her best friend for life and she’ll never be rid of him, though it doesn’t feel like it from the back seat of her and Seungcheol’s shared car.

Y/N kind of feels like a ghost. She has for two weeks now. She barely took in anything to do with dead week or finals week. The normal stress of that time of the year doesn’t really register because she feels too numb. It’s kind of a blessing because if she can’t take much in, she doesn’t notice all the laughter and whispers that follow her around campus, at cheer practice, and in the sorority house.

Just about the only person that gives her any sympathy is Wonwoo when she goes to return the loaner laptop before leaving for the break. He delicately asks how she’s doing and he seems like he really wants to know. His kindness doesn’t feel like something she deserves. She leaves before she cries in front of him again.

Tonight is the dinner at her father’s house. Jeonghan is always invited and is still coming despite whatever is going on with the three of them. When they got in the car, the only thing they really said to each other is that they didn’t want to involve their parents in this mess. So they had to pretend like everything was fine, if only for one dinner.

The mansion is cold when the three of them arrive. Their bags are still in the car because they aren’t staying here. Y/N is relieved by that small blessing. She can’t wait to be in her old bedroom in her mom’s small cozy apartment in a matter of hours.

Nari greets them with a smile that is totally fake. She’s wearing a little black dress and heels under her apron. Y/N guesses she’s taken on the role of housewife since leaving her position as secretary at the company. It sounded like it didn’t look good for her to be married to the boss, preferential treatment and all.

Nari sends them to the sitting room. It’s cold in there too and not a blanket in sight over the back of the couch or in a bin in the corner. Jeonghan silently takes off his wooly cardigan and hands it to her, ignoring Seungcheol’s glare. He’s been doing that anytime he sees the two of them interact.

Nari comes out with a tray of drinks, handing them around. Y/N takes a single sip of the drink and puts it down. There’s no grenadine in hers while the boys’ drinks are a light pink because of it. She knows it’s a calculated jab to not give her something everyone else gets but Y/N refuses to give Nari the satisfaction of a reaction.

“Where’s Appa tonight?” Seungcheol asks politely. Everything is formal with Nari, just as it’s always been with their father too.

Nari smiles and it’s so sickly sweet that Y/N has to look away. “He called and said he was running late at the office. Should be here anytime. Excuse me, I need to go check the roast. The chef is on vacation.” She says it snidely, like the chef doesn’t deserve a vacation, but the three of them say nothing. Once she’s out of the room, Jeonghan switches drinks with Y/N, taking the non-grenadine one. He, again, pointedly ignores Seungcheol’s glare.

Y/N is still cold at dinner where she picks at her food. Her father has barely glanced at her the whole time. He’s worried about how Seungcheol’s team is going to do this year and how Jeonghan’s applications to the internship at his company’s office near the university have gone. He promises to put in a good word for Jeonghan.

Reluctantly, her father looks down his nose at Y/N. “And how was your semester?”

“It went well,” Y/N said, feeling a little bit like she was in a job interview. “I got straight As. The sorority and cheer team are doing well too.” She could talk about the fundraisers and volunteer events the sorority did, or how she learned a new stunt for a routine, but she knows by now he doesn’t really care. He’d always looked at her with such disinterest, even as a child.

Her father pretends to look pleased. “Good to hear. We need a Dr. Choi in the family. Can’t let those grades slip.” Y/N just nods in agreement. “By the way, did you get the replacement laptop I sent?”

“I did. Thank you for sending it so quickly. I apologize that I didn’t send you a message when I got it, but I had a lot to catch up on, what with a broken laptop.” The words burn in her throat. She doesn’t want to thank him. She doesn’t want anything from him. She wants her mom.

“Of course, but you should really be more careful, Y/N. Don’t be so reckless with your belongings,” he scolds. Y/N doesn’t miss how pleased Nari is with the lecture. Y/N remembers when Nari sent her to boarding school for part of semester in high school. Seungcheol hadn’t been sent away since he was supposed to be a starter on the basketball team. Their mother had to drive to the boarding school and pull her out after Y/N cried on the phone one too many times. Nari didn’t look happy when she showed up on the doorstep with her suitcase again.

“Yes sir,” Y/N answers meekly, if only to avoid anymore conversation. Seungcheol and Jeonghan both clench their jaws across the table.

After an agonizing couple hours, Seungcheol makes the excuse that they should get going. They still have to drop Jeonghan off and get home to their mother’s apartment across town.

In the car, neither boys say anything as Y/N cries in the backseat. This dinner was the straw that broke the camel's back. Jeonghan ignores Seungcheol’s looks in the rearview mirror because he refused to sit in the front seat, sliding into the back with her to hold her hand.

The break flies by only because Y/N wishes it wouldn’t. She’d like to stay in her warm bed in her mom’s warm apartment for the rest of her life. She surprises herself by even considering not going back, but she knows she’d never hear the end of it. After all, she has one semester left. Then she can pick anywhere for medical school, given that she gets accepted.

Her mother is clearly worried, and Y/N feels so guilty for it. Her mother has been a nurse for over 20 years. She works hard and she works long, weird hours. She always has in order to make it work for the twins. So Y/N tries to slap a smile on her face when she’s out of her room if only to keep her from worrying, particularly when she’s just come home from an overnight shift.

But it seems it doesn’t matter because her mother still knocks on her door the night before they’re scheduled to drive back to school. Y/N is packing after doing some laundry and she slaps that fake smile on her face when her mother sits cross legged on her bed. “Are you sure you have to go? You could just move back in for good. Just don’t tell your brother,” her mother teases.

This does bring a little bit of a genuine smile to Y/N’s face. “I would love to, but I’m so close to being done.”

“I know, baby, and I’m so proud of you.” Her mother stopped and stared for a second. Finally, she sighs. “You know, I had a really bad semester at nursing school. Even had to switch schools because of it.”

Y/N isn’t sure how she knows that the semester was bad because she hadn’t said anything. But there’s no point in denying it. She’s been moping for weeks now. “Really? What happened?”

“Some mean girls,” her mother shrugs. “They’re everywhere, but they were more tolerable at the second school.”

Y/N continues folding clothes if only to keep busy. “What if I’m the mean girl?”

“What do you mean, baby?”

It had been weighing on Y/N’s mind. Something about the post a couple weeks before finals had made things painfully obvious to her. She hadn’t realized how it looked to others while she was chasing and looking for the right guy. She didn’t realize how many feelings she’d hurt on that chase. She eventually deleted her twitter account and locked down all of her other socials to avoid finding out how anyone else really felt about her.

“I think I’ve hurt some feelings with my dating habits. I didn’t mean anything by it… but I did.”

Her mother is quiet for a moment, before waving her over. There’s something so comforting about curling up into her mother’s side. “I’ll tell you what I think, okay?” Y/N nods into her shoulder. “You have so much love to give. You always have, you and Seungcheol both. And you really want to be with someone to share that. But maybe it’s okay if you keep it to yourself sometimes.” Her mother’s head plops down on top of Y/N’s. “You know, I was always afraid the divorce would affect you two. It’s why I stayed until I just couldn’t anymore. But now I see how you might be chasing after the validation you didn’t see in mine and your father’s relationship. And you don’t need it, okay? Take care of yourself first.”

Y/N is tearful and this is all too serious, so she has to crack a joke. “I think you’re spending too much time covering shifts in the psych ward. You sound like a shrink.”

Y/N’s mother laughs loudly. “Oh, I know. They’re keeping me on that rotation because I’m so good. Come on. Let’s finish packing this and then we’ll make some cookies for you to take with you tomorrow.”

Mingyu is pissed. He has been for days. Specifically, because a couple days before he was due to come back from break, the twitter account mysteriously disappears. So does any trace of it. No one has screenshots and the document they’d drafted of the exposé is gone too. All that’s left is anything they compiled for the final project.

Seungkwan says he didn’t do anything with the twitter account and Mingyu believes him because his texts sound panicked. As Seungkwan is lamenting over the years he’s spent building up that account, Mingyu develops a theory. When he calls Wonwoo multiple times without receiving an answer, he considers it evidence.

So when Mingyu arrives back at his apartment, he’s seething. Wonwoo looks totally unfazed where he lays on the couch with a book as Mingyu all but throws down his suitcase. “What the fuck did you do?”

“Whatever do you mean?” Wonwoo sounds bored. He doesn’t even look up from his book.

“The twitter account, you asshole!”

“Oh, that? I hacked it and deleted it.” Wonwoo says this so casually that it almost makes Mingyu’s brain explode.

“Why would you do that?! You know how hard we worked on that.” Mingyu thinks he might hit Wonwoo. “Months of work and now we have nothing to show for it. And years of work for Seungkwan.”

“That’s too bad,” Wonwoo says without an ounce of sympathy.

Mingyu is fast approaching the bargaining phase. He plops down on the couch next to Wonwoo. “I thought you said you couldn’t do it anyway. What happened?”

Wonwoo gives him a blank look. “Oh, I’ve spent months on it, but I was finally able to do it over the break. It wasn’t easy, but it was very satisfying to click confirm on that little pop up.”

Mingyu stammers, at a total loss of words. Eventually, he’s pleading. “Why, Wonwoo? That was the basis of our whole project.”

“And your project is done. I saw the document you guys turned in.” Wonwoo’s voice is turning icy. “What? It wasn’t enough for you to get a little revenge and an A+? Now you want to go back and relive it?”

“Why are you acting like this? You don’t even like her!” Mingyu cried.

“I like her a hell of a lot more than I like any of you guys right now. I don’t even recognize you anymore, Mingyu.” It’s Wonwoo’s turn to be mad. He slams the book closed, throwing it down on the coffee table. “You tore her apart and then kept that account up to let everyone else keep tearing her apart. Do you feel better now? Does that help you get over the three dates you took her on? Are you seeing how you guys overreacted now?”

“She had it coming,” Mingyu argued but he was losing heat. Wonwoo rarely lectured him like this.

“You destroyed her. I’ll be surprised if she even comes back,” Wonwoo snapped, standing up to pace. “I asked her if she was okay when she turned in the loaner laptop and she looked like she could cry on the spot. Whatever vengeance you got, I hope you enjoyed it because you don’t get anymore if it touches a computer or phone. I’ll hack every single device you guys have to make sure of it.”

Mingyu has deflated, totally stunned. “Why are you defending her? I don’t understand this at all.”

“I’m defending her because it seems like literally no one else is. I’m sure you know the damage that you’ve caused.” When Mingyu gives him a blank look, Wonwoo snaps again. “Let me refresh your memory. I heard she’s the laughing stock of the sorority and cheer team. She’s deleted her twitter account because there were hundreds of people tagging her in comments. And last I heard Seungcheol and Jeonghan fought.”

Mingyu had heard that. It makes news in the locker room when your captain gets into a fist fight and is sent to the Dean’s office. The coach wasn’t happy. “I can’t help that,” Mingyu insisted. “Besides, that was probably a long time coming. Joshua said Y/N had been sleeping with Jeonghan the whole time.”

“And that’s another thing! They’re both firmly denying that.”

Mingyu rolls his eyes because he can’t help it. “And you believe that? How do you know all of this anyway? Everyone’s been gone for break.”

“You know, I do believe it actually, especially since she didn’t bother denying anything else you guys wrote. And let’s just say some other accounts have been cleaned up as well.” Wonwoo picks up his book. “I’m leaving. I mean it though. You guys are done.”

Wonwoo’s disappointment is clear and leaves Mingyu feeling conflicted. But the thing is, the project’s over and the twitter account is gone. Mingyu decides it’s time to move on.

Joshua can feel eyes on him, but this time he knows who it is. Minghao has been doing a lot of staring lately. Neither had anywhere to go during the break, but they saw very little of each other. It seems Minghao is upset with him, and Joshua hasn’t asked yet.

But it’s starting to drive him crazy, because he really wants to enjoy his night off and watch some TV. When he glances at Minghao, his roommate is peering over his laptop. Joshua raises an eyebrow. “What?”

Minghao continues to stare, before finally saying, “Nothing.”

Joshua scoffs. “If you have something to say, just say it. You’ve been like this all break.”

Minghao purses his lips. “Nothing, really. I just thought you were nicer, is all.”

“Nicer? What do you mean?” Joshua prided himself on being polite, a gentleman even.

“I mean the twitter account.” Joshua must looked surprised, because Minghao rolls his eyes. “Yes, even I have twitter. And even if I didn’t it would have been impossible to miss. I just don’t understand how you got involved in all that. Or why.”

“She deserved it,” Joshua mumbled. He didn’t really have another excuse anymore. He’d deleted the app to keep from looking at it because it was kind of like watching a car crash.

“I beg to differ.”

Minghao’s statement makes Joshua’s jaw drop as he sits up. “What do you mean? You were the first one to tell me what she was like.”

“Yeah, I get it. Play the player and all. But you and whoever you were working with took it to the extreme,” Minghao said seriously. “I mean, there are some nasty things being written about her.”

“So?”

Minghao blinks a few times. “Fine, be that way. Leave me alone, though.” Joshua watched as Minghao slid headphones on and turned away.

Y/N has never been what you would call a recluse. She liked to be around people, always had, but she finds she can’t when she returns to campus. She hides out in her room at the sorority house most of the time, even avoiding her housemates. Some are mean and others are pitying, but Y/N doesn’t care for either of those things, so she waits until everyone has left or is in bed before she comes out for things like food or laundry.

She’s taken to spending a lot of time in bed. Not scrolling, not watching TV, not even reading. She’s staring at that same spot on the wall when there’s a knock on her bedroom door. It opens and Seungcheol comes in. They haven’t really talked much outside of the necessities of traveling together so she sits up in bed, surprised. He doesn’t really acknowledge her as he puts the bags he’s carrying down onto her desk. She watches as he unpacks a couple orders of her favorite sushi. When he hands them to her with a pair of chopsticks, her eyes water a bit.

She doesn’t dig in right away, waiting for him to get his stuff and sit next to her on the bed. He doesn’t crack open his food either. “I’m sorry,” he mumbled.

Y/N shakes her head. “No, I’m sorry. I made such a mess without even realizing it.”

“Maybe a little,” Seungcheol chuckles. “But you’re still my sister and I’m sorry that I didn’t just come talk to you about it. And I’m sorry I haven’t really helped you out any lately. I know you’ve had a hard time with all this.”

Y/N sighs, putting her food to the side. She leans into Seungcheol. “Maybe I deserved it. All the pranks. The twitter account. I didn’t even realize how bad it all looked until I read it along with everyone else.”

She feels Seungcheol shake his head. “No. They don’t understand it.” She doesn’t have to ask what he’s referring to because she knows it’s about their father and the divorce. Seungcheol had once jokingly said the whole thing had given her a complex, but maybe it wasn’t much of a joke. “And anyway, that whole thing with Joshua reeked. I wish I’d pressed you more to end it with him because it’s totally unfair that it was a set up.”

Y/N frowns. She’d tried not to think much of Joshua lately because it would do no good. She hadn’t heard from him and she didn’t expect to, so she hadn’t reached out either. “I should have known it was too good to be true.”

“Maybe, but it’ll work out with someone someday.” Seungcheol sounds like he means that. After a beat, he asks, “So you and Jeonghan? How long has that been going on?”

“It hasn’t been. We lost our virginity to each other when we were 16. That’s it.”

“That’s it?” Seungcheol sounds surprised.

“Yeah, I promise. It rarely comes up anymore. I’m not even sure how that rumor got started recently,” Y/N sags into Seungcheol’s side. That was something that hadn’t gone back to normal yet. She was used to seeing Jeonghan all the time, maybe more than she saw her twin, but they didn’t really know how to be around each other lately.

“Do you wish it would come up? The idea of you and him, I mean?”

Y/N is surprised by the question, only because she remembers hearing about their fight. “Do you really want to know the answer to that question?” Seungcheol nods. Y/N bites her lip. “Sometimes. I wished it would have back then, but we were so lucky we didn’t ruin our friendship at 16. Not that it matters now, even if I did want it to come up.”

“He misses you too, don’t worry,” Seungcheol says easily.

“Have you guys made up?” Y/N’s head pops up, relief in her eyes.

“Yeah, I interrogated him this morning,” Seungcheol smiles and there’s a flash of something mischievous before it clears and he’s serious again. “I told him to come see you but he’s working up the courage. He wishes he could have shielded you from all of this.” Y/N frowns at Seungcheol’s explanation, but he doesn’t let her press him for anything. “And for the record, I’d be okay with it if you two did have something going on. I’d just like to know about it. Don’t keep secrets from me anymore.”

Seungcheol places her food back in her lap and with a tone of finality, he insists, “Eat. That place is expensive.”

Y/N does, feeling a little bit lighter.

The next day, she decides that she’s not going to wait for Jeonghan to come see her. He’s been her best friend for over 20 years and this is getting fixed today. Seungcheol is out when she knocks on their apartment door. Jeonghan looks like he just woke up but his eyes widen when he sees her. “Surprise,” Y/N sings lamely, holding a bag from their favorite bakery.

Nevertheless, Jeonghan smiles and lets her in. They sit together on the floor next to the coffee table. As kids, they didn’t care to sit at the table or even on the couch, and it was a habit they still had occasionally if only for nostalgia.

Jeonghan would normally inhale the cake that she’s just given him but he eats slowly today. Y/N picks at her own slice. “I’m sorry you got roped into all of this.”

He looks at her for a long time and she’s beginning to worry that he’ll kick her out. But eventually he shakes his head. “You didn’t do anything wrong in my book, so there’s nothing to be sorry for.”

“Others would disagree with you,” Y/N says bitterly, putting her cake down on the coffee table and pulling her knees up to her chest. Laying her chin on her knees, she looks at him. She can’t imagine not fixing this with him, but it’s up to her to apologize and it’s up to him to decide if he still wants to be friends. “I don’t even know how that rumor started. It makes you look bad too, since you’ve been dating as well. So I’m still sorry.”

Jeonghan looks so stubborn now. She knows the look well. It’s the same one he gives when someone tells him to do something he doesn’t want to do, like doing chores or homework. “No. I don’t accept your apology because it’s not needed.”

Tears prick Y/N’s eyes. “Let me apologize,” she pleads. “You should be saying ‘I told you so’ anyway. You’ve been telling me for years to be more careful.”

“You’re misunderstanding, Y/N,” Jeonghan lets out in exasperation. “I never told you to be careful because of how it looked. I know your intentions were never bad. And I never imagined anyone would do anything so… cruel in response to it.” He looks back down to his cake, picking some of the frosting off with the fork. “I only told you to be careful because I didn’t like seeing you get let down over and over again. And I’m certain there’s no one who deserves you so it happens all the time.”

Y/N stares at him while he still picks the frosting off his cake. “Do you really feel that way? Not even you?” There’s a tinge of a joke, but she really wonders.

Jeonghan chuckles, some light returning to his eyes. “Not even me, and I’m flawless.” This earns a laugh from Y/N but then things get quiet. “Of course, I feel that way. Whoever you do end up with one day will be really lucky.”

There are so many things Y/N wants to say, but finally, she lands on, “I feel the same about you. I’ve been telling you for years that you’re total husband material.”

Jeonghan laughs again. “And who made me learn all that? You hold your best friend to high standards,” he teases. “Now, can we go back to normal? I missed you.”

Y/N grinned. “I missed you too, Hannie. But did you really think I was leaving here without things going back to normal? You’ll never be rid of me, I’ll haunt you for the rest of your life.” Jeonghan shoves her by the shoulder and she loses balance, laying flat on the floor.

“Don’t make me kick you out. Now, eat your cake or I will.”

Joshua walks into the hospital with a minute to spare. It’s his first day at his internship and he’s really looking forward to it. He goes to the front desk and finds out where he’s supposed to be - to which the answer is the 3rd floor. This is one of the regular units, specifically not the ER or the ICU. As soon as he steps out of the elevator, he bites back a groan.

Somehow, he’d forgotten that Y/N would be here. And even if she was, he kind of assumed they’d never have to run into each other because they’re interns in different departments. But sure enough, Y/N is standing there with the charge nurse that Joshua was told to find.

Both women turn to him as he approaches. “Joshua, right?” The charge nurse, Eunji, asks and when Joshua nods, she smiles. “Good! And both of you are on time too. Joshua, have you met Y/N before?”

Joshua looks at Y/N, who doesn’t so much as glance at him now. Evenly, she says, “Yes, we’ve shared some classes.” Her tone has none of the usual sparkle to it, and he’s not sure if it’s because she’s trying to be professional or if it’s because he’s here standing next to her.

“Great! Well, unfortunately, I don’t have anything exciting for you guys,” Eunji looks apologetic. “We need to do inventory today, and the tech that would normally do it during this shift is out.” Eunji hands both of them clipboards and pens, before leading them to a supply closet. The bare overhead light is not very bright and most of the corners are still dark. “Sorry it’s so dingy in here… Anyway, it’s pretty straightforward. For each line item, do a count and write it down. Split it however you’d like and if you have any questions I’ll be around.”

With that Eunji closes the door behind her, leaving Y/N and Joshua alone. They haven’t seen each other since that Sunday in her bedroom, outside of a couple classes they shared. Joshua feels awkward when Y/N turns to one of the shelves and starts without another word. He doesn’t know why but the silence kills him for the next hour. He has to recount rolls of gauze and boxes of bandaids a few times before he thinks he got it right.

He’s in the middle of his third count of boxes of alcohol swabs when he hears a grunt behind him. When he turns, he sees Y/N on her tiptoes, trying to reach the top shelf. Without thinking, he comes up behind her, grabbing the bin that she needs and handing it to her. She barely glances up at him when she mumbles a quick, ‘thanks’, before turning to the table in the corner to count the contents of the bin.

Joshua doesn’t know why he’s staring. Doesn’t know why he thinks she looks cute in hot pink scrubs and a ponytail. Doesn’t know why he likes how concentrated she looks. It burns him up inside that he wants to talk to her when he couldn’t wait to be rid of her last semester.

Impulsively, Joshua says, “Are you okay?”

She doesn’t look up from the bin. “Yeah, why do you ask?”

“It’s just, we haven’t talked since…” He trails off when he sees the tension building in her shoulders.

She looks up at him with confusion all over her face. “Joshua, I don’t mean to sound like a smart ass, but what would there be to talk about? That tweet was pretty clear about where we stood.”

“So? You have nothing to say?” Joshua’s blood starts to boil.

“What is there to say? No one wants to hear it anyway,” Y/N says with a bit of bitterness.

“A lot of people want to hear an apology,” Joshua seethed. “You’ve fucked with a lot of people.”

“Yeah. I know how to read twitter comments, Joshua,” Y/N snapped, throwing things back into the bin haphazardly to turn to him fully. “Are you happy? I don’t even know what I did to you. Other guys, fine. I’m not great to date, I get it now. The comments made it crystal clear. But I did absolutely nothing to you.”

“Absolutely nothing? What about sleeping with your best friend while you were seeing me?”

Y/N throws her hands over her face in exasperation. “When we were 16! Not once since then. I’m so sick of explaining this.”

Joshua freezes. “What? But I heard you guys talking about it.” He watches realization wash over her face.

“Oh my god,” she groans into her hands again. “You’re telling me you spread a rumor like that because you eavesdropped on a snippet of a conversation that you had no context for?” Joshua’s silence must be answer enough because she barrels on. “We did what stupid teenagers do and wanted to lose our virginities to someone we trusted. And if you had waited five fucking seconds, you would have heard him say that he was happy things were going well with us.” She laughs, but it’s not right because it sounds a little watery. “I really liked you, Joshua. I don’t know what I did to deserve all this. And I don’t give a fuck about the mean girls on the cheer team or in the sorority, or the gross guys on the basketball team, or anyone else on campus for that matter. But you almost wrecked the two relationships that I’ve had for my entire life.”

“You deserve it because I’ve met girls like you,” Joshua bit. “You just have to smile and you get handed whatever you want. You play with people like toys until you get bored.”

“Well, I didn’t get what I wanted, now did I?” Now she’s crying but she looks furious. “You saw to that, did you? All I wanted was for it to finally feel right with someone, and when it did it was all a trick.”

Joshua scoffs. “Like it’ll take you long to move on.”

Y/N’s chin wobbles in the dim lighting and there’s a pang in Joshua’s chest at the sight. “Oh no. I’ll be swearing off dating from now on. No one will have anymore reasons to fuel their stupid pranks or trap dates or twitter accounts.” Joshua freezes again and Y/N is on a roll now. “You didn’t think I would figure out who was behind all of that? It’s a little too convenient that you’ve been hanging out with just about everyone mentioned in that stupid tweet. Do you guys feel like you’ve gotten your revenge now? I considered dropping out over all of this. Would that have made you guys happy to never see me again?”

Joshua stumbles over his words. He didn’t expect her to piece everything together, and he really didn’t expect that she considered not coming back to finish her degree. She was a good student and seemed so invested in her future. But it doesn’t matter what he has to say because she’s shoving the clipboard into his chest hard as she passes by him. “You finish the rest. I can’t fucking reach it anyway.”

The door slams behind her and he looks around the supply closet for help understanding what just happened. He feels guilty now in a way he hadn’t throughout this whole experiment. He’d felt that he had no choice but to transfer after the embarrassment that was the end of his relationship with Lily, and now he’d just made someone feel the same way. But she was brave enough to come back while he ran across the world with his tail between his legs.

When he finally snaps back to attention, it takes him way more than three counts to get each line item right.

Two months have passed and things are looking up for Y/N. She, Seungcheol, and Jeonghan are glued to each other again just like it’s meant to be. What few classes she has to take are going well. And she’s getting used to the way things are with other people around campus. Once she got over the initial shock and subsequent depression at the whole situation, she decided not to acknowledge it anymore. She didn’t entertain the conversation with her sorority sisters or teammates when they asked if she was seeing someone. She was getting really good at shutting out anyone that asked her out, which seemed to be just as frequent as it was before. She used to enjoy the attention, but now she just saw a bunch of red flags.

Her escape had become her internship. After the first day, Joshua was working in another unit so she didn’t have to see him. As promised when she was offered the internship, she would be shadowing in the ER. It was mostly triaging or assisting the non-critical cases, and she didn't even get to do the fun stuff. Mostly, she would call patients back and gather their history under the supervision of an RN. Then she might escort them to a room when one became available. The exciting days were when she could assist with treatments, but it was mostly handing the doctor or nurse things and holding the patient’s hand while she talked their ear off to distract them.

Today was a triage shift and it was almost over when the nurse from the front desk gave her a new clip board and walked away. Y/N sees the name on the sheet and smacks her forehead with the clipboard hard. Then, resigned, she goes to the lobby.

“Lee Seokmin.”

He hobbles into the triage station with another guy holding him up on one side. She can tell he’s surprised to see her, but she doesn’t react to it. “Have a seat,” she said, pointing. She also drags over two more chairs so he can prop up his foot and his friend can sit down. “I’m Y/N and this is Yunseo.” Yunseo waved from the other side of the computer. “Yunseo is the RN for triage today, but since I’m an intern, she’s letting me take some of your medical history. Injured foot, huh?” She says neutrally.

“Ankle I think… Y/N, this is my friend Junhui.”

Y/N gives Junhui a polite smile, but she can tell by his reaction to her name that he knows quite a bit about what’s been going on last semester. “What happened?” She asks Seokmin.

“We were rehearsing and I tripped,” Seokmin sighs.

“Can I take a look? I have to make sure it isn’t critical. If it is, I need to hand it off to Yunseo right now.” Seokmin doesn’t hesitate to roll up the leg of his jeans. His ankle is swollen and starting to develop a nasty bruise. Y/N hums sympathetically, and Yunseo nods encouragingly to her to continue. This is how Y/N knows she’s right to assume it’s not critical. “I’m sorry, that’s rough.” She backs away from Seokmin. “Well, unfortunately there’s not much to do until a doctor can see you besides icing your ankle and taking information for your records.” When Seokmin nods, Y/N zips out of the room.

She wants to linger at the ice machine for a breather, but today’s charge nurse is in the break room taking lunch. So, Y/N works quickly to get the bag of ice and returns to Seokmin and Junhui. Once the ice is on Seokmin’s ankle, Y/N plops down in front of the computer. It’s both a blessing and a curse that these questionnaires are so long. On one hand, there’s not a lot of time for them to talk about anything else when she’s peppering him with questions one after another. On the other hand, it feels like it takes an eternity to get through it. She tries to focus on the fact that this is good experience with Yunseo over her shoulder pointing out certain things.

Y/N feels like she’s so close to freedom after she’s rolled Seokmin in a wheelchair to an exam room while Yunseo calls the next patient to get started. “Someone will be in to see you shortly, but call if you need anything,” she says professionally. Her hand is on the knob to pull it closed behind her when Seokmin speaks up.

“Y/N? I’m sorry.”

She pauses and she can’t help but frown at him. He does look sorry actually, guilt all over his face. Junhui must sense where this is going, so he asks where the vending machine is and excuses himself. Y/N is still standing in the doorway, arms crossed now. “Sorry for what?”

“For the experiment. The pranks. Joshua. The twitter account.”

Y/N blinks at him because she’s not sure what else to do. “Experiment?”

“It all started as a psych experiment - conformity on social media. But it got out of control… and that sounds really stupid when I say it out loud.” Seokmin rubs the back of his neck.

“Yeah, it does,” Y/N murmured. She looks around the pristine exam room because she can’t really look at him. She’d just started to feel better from all of this, but now she’s learning of a whole other layer to it. Her misery lately is a result of a class assignment made of questionable ethics. She’d really like to forget about all of it. “I guess I owe you an apology too. I didn’t mean anything by cutting things off, and I’m sorry if I gave you the impression that I wanted more.”

“You didn’t,” Seokmin insists and she looks at him in confusion. “I thought maybe you led me on. I was upset at how things had gone with us. That’s the whole reason I agreed to any of this in the first place. But the longer I think about it, you were pretty honest about how you felt. You shouldn’t have to apologize because I got my hopes up.”

“You’re not the only one though. That twitter account kind of makes it seem like it’s a habit of mine.”

“Yeah… that got really out of control. I’m sorry you had to see any of it. But if it makes you feel any better, it was hacked and deleted.”

Y/N found herself laughing. “Hacked? Who did that?”

Seokmin looks amused. “Let’s just say you have a very talented friend looking out for you. He shut down that dating app because of you too.” Y/N’s eyes widen.

“Man, you guys were serious about this revenge.”

She watches Seokmin relax because she’s laughing again and he finally laughs too. “Yeah, like I said. Out of control. I’ve been trying to convince them to apologize. I think Mingyu, Jihoon, and Seungkwan will come around… I’m not sure about Joshua.”

“Seungkwan? Boo Seungkwan?”

Seokmin nods. “He ran the twitter account.”

“Ah,” Y/N sighs. “Well, you might be right about Joshua. He’s interning here too, and that’s going about as well as you would expect.”

“Total avoidance, huh?” When Y/N raises an eyebrow, he shakes his head. “We haven’t seen or heard much from him either.”

Junhui’s hovering outside of the door with a pack of cookies and a loud crunch gives him away. It makes Y/N laugh. “You can come back in. I’m leaving for real this time.”

A couple hours later, she waves to Seokmin and Junhui as she leaves. It’s kind of a relief to know that someone involved feels a little bad, but she thinks he’s probably wrong. She won’t be getting an apology from any of the others.

“You want me to do what?” Wonwoo asks. He thinks he’s heard the request wrong and he’s confused.

“Bring the twitter account back,” Seungkwan requests again.

Wonwoo sighs and nods. “Ah, that’s what I thought you said. Two questions, are you stupid and do you know what the word ‘deleted’ means?”

Seungkwan is totally unfazed by the insult. “It’s for another project. You can’t restore it?”

Wonwoo can’t help but glance around the table. The whole crew is back together and he was kind of hoping that would never happen again. It had been a disaster last semester. He finally pins Mingyu with a look. “I told you that you guys would not get a technical method to do this again.”

“It’s not what you think. We probably should have led with that,” Mingyu puts his hands up in defense.

“Then what is it? I deleted it for a reason. Nothing on there should have seen the light of day, especially near the end,” Wonwoo says impatiently. He wants nothing more than to be rid of these little requests because he doesn’t trust any of them as far as he can throw them.

“We need the reach to issue an apology,” Jihoon says simply. “We can’t do that with a brand new account.”

“An apology?” Wonwoo’s laugh gets caught in his throat because he never thought he’d hear something like this considering how evil they were last semester. “This should be good. Tell me more.”

“We’ve been talking,” Seokmin started. “We got carried away and we’d like to reel this back in if we can.”

“There’s not a lot of reeling back in you can do,” Wonwoo scoffs. “The damage is done. Now you guys get to feel guilty about it.”

“Yeah, that’s why we’d like to issue an apology,” Mingyu says. “So can you restore it or not?”

“No! The warning message says ‘permanently deleted’ for a reason.” Wonwoo lies through his teeth. He’s not going to tell him he didn’t hit delete. Instead, he’d changed the email attached to the account and hit ‘deactivate’. “Besides, an in-person apology will probably go much farther. If you’re apologizing to the person I think you’re apologizing to, she doesn’t even have a twitter account anymore to see it.”

“I don’t think she’d want to see us,” Jihoon huffed. “Which is fair, I guess.”

Seokmin shrugs. “I don’t know, she wasn’t mean to me or anything when I was in the ER last week.”

Joshua has been silent the whole time. Wonwoo’s not sure why he’s even here because he might have been the cruelest of them all and hadn’t seemed to regret any of it. Wonwoo stares him down. “Are you part of this apology too?” He watches Joshua hesitate for a moment, then nod.

Wonwoo purses his lips. “I can’t promise anything. They might really mean ‘permanently deleted’ when they say it.” He lies through his teeth again. He needs some time to think about it before he hands the account back to any of them. He glares at Seungkwan. “But I’ll be doing some major clean up if I can actually restore it.”

Seungkwan nods eagerly. “I would have done it anyway, but have at it. You’ll probably be faster at it anyway.”

“Great. But how do we make sure she sees it?” Mingyu asks.

Something catches Joshua’s eye and suddenly he’s jumping out of his seat.

If Joshua had to describe Seungcheol and Jeonghan in one word, he would say overprotective. He got that vibe at the dinner and movie triple date he met them at. He’s definitely getting that vibe now. In fact, he thinks they might leap over the table at any of them. Maybe Joshua first though with the dirty looks he’s getting.

Joshua has to talk fast to get them to agree to even sit down with the group at the table. Jeonghan even sets a timer for five minutes passive aggressively.

They explain everything, starting from the psych experiment, to the dating app, the pranks,, the twitter account, and Joshua. Seungcheol and Jeonghan look totally unimpressed. Joshua gets that because it all sounds so fucking stupid now that they have to explain it.

“And you think an apology will fix this?” Seungcheol asks coldly.

“We’d like to try,” Mingyu says weakly. He’s been feeling Seungcheol’s wrath for two months now. He doesn’t want to run anymore laps or do anymore pushups.

“It better be a damn good one then. You know she almost didn’t come back to school?” Seungcheol snapped.

“Yeah, we heard that,” Jihoon said, glancing at Joshua. “Look, we would approach her if we thought she would hear us out. But we’ve made a mess of this to everyone else that followed that stupid account and we need to correct this with them too.”

“I thought it got deleted?” Jeonghan asks, eyes narrowed.

“That’s why he’s here,” Mingyu says, pointing to Wonwoo. Wonwoo waves him off with a simple ‘don’t talk to me’. “He’s going to try to recover the account. The problem is that we’d also like her to see it.”

Jeonghan scoffs, a bitter smile on his face. “Yeah, good luck getting her back on there.”

“That’s what we’d like your help with actually,” Joshua started.

Seungcheol and Jeonghan share a look. The timer goes off on Jeonghan’s phone, but they stay anyway.

It’s Saturday morning and Y/N is busy hosting a sorority house meeting. The president and vice president have been away at a conference and won’t make it back in time to run the meeting themselves, and as the treasurer the duty falls to her. Her phone has been buzzing in her pocket the whole time and she keeps ignoring it. She’s thinking it’s Jeonghan blowing up her phone because he’s bored, something he likes to do when she’s inconveniently busy. She has no problem making him wait for a bit.

But it’s becoming apparent that something exciting is happening what with the way all of her sorority sisters will not focus on anything she’s saying. It’s starting to get frustrating and when Y/N can’t take it anymore, she bangs the gavel as a call to order. “Okay, what’s going on? I’m trying to run a meeting here.”

A young sophomore named Ara hesitantly stood up, but she was smiling when she handed over her phone. “You might want to read this, Y/N.”

Y/N didn’t have to skim long before she mumbled, “Meeting adjourned. Have a good day, ladies.”

Did you miss us? Yes - us.

I started this account a little over two years ago and have always enjoyed interacting with all of you. But if you’ve been a follower for a while, you may have noticed a shift in the tone of this account. You won’t find any evidence of that here now, but… if you know, you know.

That’s because this became a team project last semester. I’ll be honest. It was a revenge plot and as we look back on this plot of ours, we’re embarrassed. We all got carried away, some because of hurt feelings and some because of a desire to run a successful account with a thirst for drama.

So, here it goes. We built a dating app, the one that was posted on here a while back. It was used to make a match with someone that had the same kind of vendetta some of us had against Choi Y/N.

While we waited for this app to be ready, we began pranking Y/N. At first, we thought it was harmless, but things escalated quickly. (Y/N, we still owe you a new laptop.)

When the dating app was ready, Joshua joined us with the goal of giving Y/N what we perceived to be a taste of her own medicine. We were cruel. Particularly near the end of the semester with our little exposé.

We owe Choi Y/N an apology. A big one that we’ll probably never convince her that we mean honestly. For the pranks. For Joshua. For the way this account was used. For nearly ruining over 20 years of friendship between her and Yoon Jeonghan on a baseless rumor, and damaging the relationship between her and her twin brother, Choi Seungcheol.

Y/N, if you’re reading this (and we hope you are), we’d like to start making this up to you. Reach out if you’re interested.

Seungkwan, Mingyu, Jihoon, Seokmin, and Joshua

#joshua #Joshua hong #Joshua x reader #Joshua hong x reader #seventeen #svt #seventeen x reader #svt x reader

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transfemme-shelterdog · 8 days ago

Note

I dislike that we as trans people are shoved into boxes. "Men need to act like this," "women need to act like that." And while a lot of it does apply to cis people, it hits trans people even harder. A trans man can't wear nail polish or a bit of eyeshadow without being called fake, a transtrender, "actually a dumb girl who can't make these decisions." And if trans women aren't 100% passing and the epitome of femininity and beauty, then they're "actually just men trying to get into women's spaces to hurt them." It fucking sucks.

I'm a trans guy, 100% binary. I want to carry my own kid(s). I've had other trans men SCREECH at me for this. Calling me fake and a disgrace to trans men, being told I'm actually just a woman or nonbinary (but it's obvious they use "nonbinary" to mean "woman lite"). And don't get me started on how people, both cis and trans, react when I tell them I've considered being called mother/mom instead of father/dad. You'd think I just killed their newborn and fed it to cheetas.

I messed around with the label of nonbinary. I tried living as a woman, even detransitioned for a year to try again. It was all terrible. I know who I am. I know I'm a man. Me wanting to do traditionally "female things" doesn't affect that.

I've even been told by (well-meaning) people that being the carrier of the child + the more "submissive" one in the relationship doesn't mean I have to be a mother instead of a father. But that's not it. It's not about gender roles or "moms do this" and "dads do that." It's purely about vibes. The vibes between mom and dad are different to me, maybe because of how I was raised, even when they're performing the same childcare and spousal duties.

When I think of myself as a mom, I think of my mom. And I love her to death. She's an incredibly comforting prescence and I've wanted to be like her since I was 10. Me being trans doesn't mean I have to give that up. It just means I do everything I was going to do but just a little to the left instead.

My mom is an incredibly resilient, durable person. Very stubborn and takes absolutely no shit. She's 5ft of fury and audacity, and I've seen her knock out 6ft+ men. The type that have working muscle too, like firefighters and carpenters, not gymbros. And at the same time, she's never raised her voice at me, was always gentle and protective, worked her ass off and did her best every day. What child wouldn't want to be like their mom when their mom is like that?

That's not to say my dad did nothing. He's very loving, but he's a very distant man. I know he'd fight to the death for me. He'd risk everything, he'd kill someone if needed. But my mom would use her body to shield me a thousand times over, all while comforting me and wiping my tears and telling me that it's going to be okay. And she'd show no pain. Hell, she'd smile and tell me she loves me. You know what I mean?

That's the kind of parent I want to be. Can I be that as a dad? Yeah. But I feel more connected to my mom when I think of myself as a mom. What's the harm in that?

Plus, I'm gay. It'll be easier to know which parent my kid is calling for when we're not both called dad.

Tldr; gender roles are stupid and I should get to pick if I want to be called mom or carry my own kid even if I'm a man

As a binary, 100% trans girl (well, girl dog but that's another story), I'm kinda the opposite? I want to adhere to gender roles strictly and not deviate at all. Closest you'd get label wise is me being a "tomboy". I like metal (Not Metallica metal, but like metal metal, shit like Menstrual Vampires, Cattle Decap, Dead Neanderthals, etc), I'm very athletic, and I enjoy gaming. Plus my wardrobe is mainly metal shirts/cardigans and leggings. But I also really enjoy looking pretty in a little black dress, heels, my hair done, and makeup.

I fully support you playing with gender norms and I agree, it's a shame that our own people are treating you like that. Your logic for why you'd want to be called mom and have kids is totally sound, and I think it's totally cool and awesome.

Trans people who play with gender norms are as valid as those that adhere to it.

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kalinara · 16 days ago

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Why is Charles constantly held up as this leader for mutants when there are many other mutants who would be a way better leader than him and he at times is not very good at it.

I don't know if I'd agree with the word "constantly", since I do think that Xavier's reception both in universe and out tends to fluctuate.

Xavier, at his best, is a man of high ideals, who took in five kids with the intention of giving them a safe place to learn how to use their powers.

It's a genre convention for kid/young adult stories, for the parents and mentors to be, at best, uninvolved and clueless. Because that's how the kids go off and have adventures to begin with. Spider-Man for example gets away with superheroing because Aunt May doesn't know what he's doing. And Uncle Ben is dead.

Xavier takes the genre convention a bit farther though, because rather than being completely clueless, he's the one who actually sends them into battle. And well, when you start to look at it from an adult perspective, you quickly go "wait, what the fuck?!"

It probably didn't help that Lee and Kirby were pretty fond of stories where Xavier would fake impairment and depowerment, or just go off and do his own thing, so that the kids could take charge and act on their own. Or the way he was actively involved in lying to Warren or Jean's parents about what their kids were up to. He starts looking a bit manipulative at best.

So we have a guy with two warring sides at work: the visionary benefactor vs. the manipulative plotter.

And well, X-Men is a franchise that's been ongoing for sixty years, so we have multiple generations who go from kids having fun to adults boggling at the characters' decisions, and I think that tends to get reflected in which traits get the most focus when.

It's probably fair to note that from about the early 2000s onward, Xavier really wasn't involved in a leadership position at all until Krakoa. He got kicked out twice for bad decisions, was hovering around in advisory capacity, and died twice to boot. The second, biggest time ushering in the post Avengers vs. X-Men period, which I think was great for really shaking up the universe.

It also though introduced a lot of really bizarre (Watsonian) veneration for the dude. Maybe it makes some sense, Scott Summers, a character who'd been recognized as a paragon by even his enemies, has proven himself flawed in his own right, so maybe that inspires people to look back at the previous guy more fondly?

(Or we could go with my theory, that Scott-as-Phoenix accidently mind-whammied everyone to love Xavier and hate Scott as much as Scott himself did at that moment.)

But then there's Krakoa, which was a pretty grand, pretty new experiment. And while I may gripe about certain aspects of the storyline, I can't deny that it was definitely a big, earth shattering concept change.

It also wouldn't have worked with anyone but Xavier at the head. Even though Rosenberg's X-Men arc had ended with Scott and Jean reunited, and positioned to lead what was left of mutantkind together, they're not really nation builder types. (Scott had Utopia, but that was less a nation than a garrison, IMO.)

For Krakoa to work, it needed nation builders. Xavier has the influence over mutant kind, and has the characterization of a benefactor. Which very much fits with Krakoa's modus operandus: giving humanity things for recognizing mutant kind, and scheming and manipulating when they don't.

And it makes sense, I think, that he was successful. Not only does he have the benefit of the absence makes the heart grow fonder veneration from his death. But he's offering mutants something tangible and amazing: safety, a home, freedom from death and persecution, a lot of their lost loved ones back.

That's a big deal. It's just unfortunately, Xavier has that other side of him too, and his blind spots and worse impulses play a big part in why Krakoa ends up falling.

(Though, to give him something: there IS a version of Krakoa still out there, in the White Room, where a nation of mutant kind has grown and developed beyond Xavier and the Council's flaws. But it's notable that they did this without him. It always seems to work like that.)

#xavier's a jerk

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queen-of-deans-booty · 1 year ago

Text

Find Your Way Back Home: Part One

Pairing: No Pairing (for this part)

Word Count: ~2.5k

Warnings: minor angst?

Summary: You're tired of living and not doing anything with your life. The group home you're in doesn't provide many opportunities to go out and find yourself, so when you meet Sam and Dean Winchester, you fall into the hunting life. Best thing to ever happen to you, honestly.

Author’s Note: This is the first part of six parts of the commission for @winchester-sinchester. Dean is eighteen, the reader is ten, and Sam is fourteen.

Kids climb the jungle gym savagely trying to outdo one another. Kids swing high on the swingset to the point where they might fall off and onto their asses. That's something you’d like to see. Parents are seated on the bench with phones in their hands or to their ears, calling out to their kids to get back up once they’ve fallen.

You should be having fun out there with the rest of them but you’re off to the side by yourself away from it all. You’ve always been an outcast in your group home. It’s better than being the center of attention. There is a whole forest surrounding the park, a forest that must have secrets of its own. Secrets that are begging to be found by someone like you. All the parents including your fake ones are too busy on their phones to notice what’s going on, so you sneak off towards the forest without a look back.

You’re not going to go too far since the forest is pretty big and you don’t want to get lost so you always stay far enough into where you can see the park if you were to look behind you. You take two steps to the right when you hear gunshots and bottles shattering. You veer off the path a bit until you come to a clearing where two boys are. One of them looks old enough to be in high school and the other looks like he is just starting high school.

The younger one aims the gun in his hands at the bottles before shooting, and the glass shatters everywhere. They’re far enough away from the park where the noise isn’t going to be a bother to the kids playing. This neighborhood isn’t the best anyway, so gunshots aren’t unheard of here. The younger kid shoots another bottle which prompts you to walk closer to them.

“Can I join?”

Both boys jump out of their skin when they hear you, and the older one narrows his eyes.

“Beat it, kid.”

“Let me shoot just one.”

“I’m not gonna ask again.”

“Just because I’m a kid doesn’t mean I can’t shoot a gun.”

The older kid turns to you and crosses his arms to look intimidating but it doesn’t work.

“How old are you?”

“Ten.”

“Where are your parents?”

“Dead.”

The older boy thinks for a second before nudging the younger one.

“Give her the gun, Sammy.”

Sammy hands you the gun handle first so his hand is wrapped around the barrel. You take it and step to where he once was before aiming. Years of using your fake dad’s guns are finally paying off. You hit the third, fourth, and fifth bottles with precision, shocking both boys.

“I’m impressed. Where did you learn to shoot?” the older one asks and grabs the gun from you.

“My dad who is not really my dad has a cool gun collection. He doesn’t notice when we get into them. Not like he’d care anyways.”

“Your dad who is not really your dad?”

“Yeah, my parents died when I was two or three. I’ve spent my time in a group home ever since. The mom doesn’t really stick around a lot. I think she’s only with her husband because of the money he gets from all the kids he has. The dad is cool so as long as you don’t piss him off. Like I said, he lets us use his guns for target practice so that’s cool.”

“I’m Sam,” the younger one smiles. “That’s my brother, Dean.”

“Nice to meet you, Sam. I’m Y/N.”

Dean’s phone chirps and he checks it immediately.

“Shit, we have to go.” You get kind of sad at the thought of not hanging out with them anymore. “See ya, kid.”

Sam and Dean leave the bottles where they are and leave with the gun. You have no choice but to go back to the park, your fake parents having no clue you even left. There is something about the brothers that sticks with you even after a few days have passed. You can’t wait to see them again, so when your fake parents take the kids back to the park, you run over to the same place last time.

Sam and Dean are in the same spot shooting bottles once again.

“Hi, Sam. Hi, Dean.”

“Hey, Y/N,” Sam smiles and shoots another bottle.

“Question. Why is Sam the only one shooting?”

“Sam needs the practice,” Dean answers.

“Why? Why are you shooting to begin with?”

“Because we have free will.”

“What do you want to shoot at later?”

“Do you always ask a lot of questions?” Dean asks you.

“Only when I’m curious.”

“Curiosity killed the cat.”

Despite how cagey Dean is toward you, you like being with them. They’re a lot better than the kids at the group home.

“Can I try shooting again?”

“No, Sammy needs to do this.”

“It’s Sam,” the younger brother grumbles.

“Just shoot.”

Sam gets in a few good shots before lowering his weapon.

“I’m good, Dean. I’ve been doing this for weeks.”

“Oh, you think you’re ready now, huh?” Dean looks at you who stares at him with wide eyes. He looked like he was going to continue with the threat, saw you, and backed down. “Come on, we should be leaving.”

“You just got here,” you complain.

“Kid, we have shit to do. Sammy, come on.”

Dean walks away but Sam stays where he is. He takes out the phone his dad allowed him to have for emergencies and hands it over to you.

“Put your number in. We can talk later.”

“Okay,” you smile. Dean turns back and sees this. He lets Sam have his friend and this moment. When you’re done, you hand it back to Sam. “Text me.”

“I will.”

Sam runs off with his older brother, leaving you alone. This time, you head back to the park with a smile on your face. The days after are spent with your face in your phone texting Sam. You keep asking about Dean but he doesn’t say much about him. Sam is nice and is your first real friend, and you’re not going to let someone like Dean scare you away from him.

A week later, you’re lying on your bed reading a worn-down book when your phone rings. The group home has a small library filled with books that are well out of your reading range in the opposite direction. They’re all kid books but they pass the time. You smile when you see Sam’s name pop up on the screen.

“Hi, Sam,” you answer.

“Hey, we’re outside. Wanna go to the beach?”

You scramble off the bed and look out the window to see the shiny black Impala waiting outside. With a grin, you grab your jacket and meet the brothers in the car. Sam is sitting in the backseat to give you the front while Dean is behind the wheel. His father gave him this car when he turned eighteen, a car he is in love with having.

Dean takes off to the nearest beach which isn’t far from where you’re staying. Since you’re much closer to Sam’s age than Dean’s, he lets you two have your fun in the sun while he stays back and keeps an eye on you two.

“Is he always this serious?” you ask and make a pile of sand.

“Yeah. He can be a hard-ass but he’s a good guy. He’s looked out for me my entire life.”

You look back at Dean to see him watching you with a close eye. He doesn’t want you and Sam to get close because then he’d have to break both your hearts when they up and move to the next town. John is working a demon case not far from here that has been taking a few weeks which is why they haven’t moved away yet.

When the sun got too much to bear, Dean took you and Sam to get ice cream across the street. The cold treat is a nice stark to the hot summer sun.

“So, do you guys have parents?” you ask as you eat.

“Mom died when I was a baby,” Sam answers for Dean. He knows he doesn’t like talking about Mom. “We just have a dad.”

“What does he do?”

“Something that moves us around a lot. As soon as he’s done, we won’t be here anymore,” Dean says.

He might sound harsh but he has to make you understand Sammy isn’t always going to be here. He doesn’t want to involve a kid in this life even if was forced onto him and Sam. You hear the sternness in his voice. That’s a stop-asking-questions-before-you-get-hurt stern.

You and Sam keep texting well after the beach date just because it’s nice to have a friend even if you’re four years younger than him. You’re well beyond your years, something the group home forced upon you. The kids here are worse than the parents because they’ll hurt you without a care in the world while the parents have some sort of heart when it comes to kids.

One night when you can’t sleep, you grab your phone and text Sam in hopes that he is up. He’s usually pretty quick with his responses. The past couple of weeks, he’s been answering late at night because he can’t sleep. He claims the monsters in the closet are going to get him. Ten minutes go by and you start to grow worried.

Your fake parents aren’t going to notice if you leave, so you decide to go over to where they’re staying and see if they’re okay. You pack light with only what you can carry and sneak out through the window. Luckily your bedroom is on the first floor. You take a rock and place it on the window sill to keep the window from closing and locking on you. You’d really rather not sleep outside.

The reason you are able to hang out with Sam and Dean almost every day is that they live so close to your group home. You keep to the shadows in case anyone is out at this time. You don’t want a repeat of what happened last time. You got caught and woke up your fake dad. He wasn’t happy, to say the least.

You get to the motel they’re staying in and find their room on the second floor easily. You knock three times and wait three minutes but no one comes out. You knock two more times but decide that it’s easier if you break in. Your fake parents like to keep things hidden so you’ve gotten good at picking locks.

You get into the room in two minutes but no one is inside. The beds are messy as if someone was sleeping in them recently. It doesn’t look like foul play since nothing is out of order. However, there is an entire wall of news clippings about the murders that have been happening in town.

Bodies Drained Of Blood. Vampires? Are Our Kids Safe? BEWARE MONSTERS AT WORK.

Many articles about the murders in town all point to a single kind of monster: vampires. Alongside the news articles are pages from books about vampires. Lore about vampires. What makes them tick, what makes them dead, and everything in between. Is this what Sam and Dean have been doing while in town? Is this the kind of work their dad does that causes them to move around a lot? Hunting vampires across the country?

There are vials on the desk in the back filled with some kind of blood, and you look at the notes next to it. Dead Man’s Blood. Nearly lethal to vampires. There is an address for the old Mill on the outside of town. That’s where Sam and Dean are, you bet. You grab a few vials of Dead Man’s Blood and leave the room. It takes longer to get there since you’re a ten-year-old on foot but you make it in record time.

You’ve been here a few times with your older siblings while they smoked weed and played Indie music. Even before walking inside, you can hear the screams of people coming from inside. You quickly sneak inside and follow the sounds of despair down to the basement. You haven’t seen John but assume he is somewhere here fighting off vampires.

In the basement is another vampire with a terrified Sam and Dean (more so Sam than Dean). Sam is clutching his older brother while Dean holds a machete in his hands trying to protect Sam. They haven’t seen you yet otherwise Dean would be trying to protect you too.

“Give it up, kid. You’re not getting out of here alive.”

“I wouldn’t bet on it,” you say from behind them.

You jump onto the vampire’s back and slam the syringe of blood into his neck. The vampire grabs at you to fight you off, only managing to throw you off him. You knock into the wall with a grunt as the vampire goes down. Dean runs at him and swipes his machete into his neck.

That’s when John comes down with a bloody machete sling over his shoulder. He grins at his sons before noticing you.

“Where the hell did you come from?”

“She saved us, Dad,” Sam says.

“How did you know where to find us?”

“The news clippings on your wall. You’re very thorough.”

John doesn’t like that you’ve been inside his room and looking through his things, but he will deal with it later.

“Get to the car. I’ll meet you there,” John orders his eldest son.

Dean takes you and Sam outside while John gets rid of the bodies so that no one will know what happened there.

“So, this is what you really do? Kill monsters?”

“Yeah,” Dean sighs.

“Not sure I believed in vampires until tonight. Is that the only monster out there?”

“No. This world is filled with monsters from your worst nightmare.”

“Dean, don’t scare her.”

“She’s the one who broke into our motel room, stole from us, followed us here, and took down a vampire.”

“Is this why Sam is the only one shooting?”

“He needs the practice,” Dean says and shoves his hands into his jacket pockets.

You look around the place and think about what you’ve just gone through. That was more thrilling than anything you’ve ever done in the group home.

“Okay, I’m in.”

“Kid, go home,” Dean rolls his eyes.

“What home? I don’t have one. Do you think they care about me? They only care about the paycheck I bring in. I have to fight other kids, older kids, just for a slice of damn pizza most days. I hate it there.”

“Dean,” Sam whispers and nudges his brother.

Only Dean can make this decision. If it were up to Sam, you’d already be in the car. John might not be keen on having another kid with him if Dean says yes, but he’d come around once he sees how resourceful you can be.

“You got heart, kid. You can’t come with us but that doesn’t mean you can’t help. I’ll give you some books to read. Do your homework and maybe you can help us on the next hunt we have.”

“Deal,” you smile.

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muzansfangs · 2 years ago

Text

Guilty pleasure.

Starring: Muzan x f!reader; Yoriichi, Kagaya Ubuyashiki, Gyomei (mentioned).

Warnings: fluff, implied sexual content (although nothing descriptive), mention to death, murder, attempted murder, traumatic events, partial loss of memory, use of gun, adoption, use of alcohol.

Plot: after the shower, you find yourself face to face with Muzan. Words meant to be unspoken finally slip from his mouth and, for the first time ever, there’s not just lust in his actions. You come to terms with your feelings and, while you bend your knee to him, he does the same. In the meanwhile, Kagaya, your real father and Yoriichi meet up for a confrontation. Yoriichi will do his best to bring you back to your “real” home and Kagaya wants Muzan’s head.

﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏

SUBMISSION.

The moment you stepped into the shower with him, you knew it was going to be a long night.

Everytime your eyes locked, your back hit the white marble wall behind you and his mouth chased yours in fervent kisses. The warm water cascaded over your naked bodies, running down your backs, drawing irregular patterns down your legs. The sweet scent of vanilla and honey filled the steamy atmosphere, piercing your nose and entering your lungs through the breathtaking kisses.

As long as you were enjoying it, your heart ached. You had told yourself a million times, from the day you first moved into his manor, not to fall for him and deceive yourself, for Muzan Kibutsuji was no good.

He left the shower before you were finished washing away the soap from your body. His lips planted one last kiss on your forehead, before he turned his back at you "Join me in the living room, once you are done" he said calmly on his way out, exiting the shower cubicle and grabbing a black towel from the towel horse beside the sink.

You watched him leave from the foggy glasses, the sound of the door closing behind his back signaling you that he was no longer in the bathroom and you were left alone with a fire burning into your heart, a fire you could not bring under control.

Muzan Kibutsuji, the man you had fallen for through the pages of the magazines, the one you did not believe you could ever meet in your whole life, was the one you had blindly said yes to. Why did you do it? Why did you leave your life behind and decided to start a new fake one with him? And, above all, what you were feeling for him was even real? The things he said and the things he did for you were part of his wicked scheme too? Probably. Still, he was addictive and you kept on forgetting not to give him your heart too.

The main reason why you had left your apartment without hesitation was because you were utterly alone. You had no brothers or sisters to come back to, you were an orphan. Of course, you had some good friends by your side, and your uncle Gyomei, but they had their own lives to deal with. You had nothing to lose.

You were kind of tired to be a lone wolf.

Searching comfort into the arms of a stranger, of a dangerous man, was not the smartest choice to make.

Why did you have such a bad taste in men? Muzan Kibutsuji was undeniably hot, but he also was a psychopathic killer.

While you naturally blamed it on the years of loneliness spent dealing with your problems alone, you also thought it was the feeling of being around someone who could protect you that made you so attracted to him. Your parents's murder had permanently left you scared of being chased down by the same person who had killed them.

You often asked yourself why he had not come back to finish what he had started. Did he think you were dead? You remembered someone had shot you. You remembered running into the darkness, feeling his hot breath on your neck as he tried to catch you. He did not succeed in it though. Someone had stopped him. You had even got a glimpse of your savior, in your peripheral. He had a high ponytail and some peculiar earrings you had never seen before.

Obviously, they started fighting, but you still asked yourself what had happened to them. The last thing you remembered was falling downstairs and banging your head against the cold floor.

You had fainted, or so you had been told at the hospital. You had to spend a month in there, crying yourself to sleep and cursing your stupid, compromised memory for not recalling the monster's features. Then your uncle came to pick you up and you lived with him until you got that job at the restaurant and you were finally able to claim your independence.

The same independence you had kind of lost with Muzan, though.

You sighed, wrapping yourself into a towel and drying your hair. Before you had even realized it, you were heading barefoot to the living room in a oversized, black t-shirt of the Rolling Stones. It was a gift from Giyuu, something you were deeply attached to. Every time you slept over at his house and you forgot to bring your pajamas over, he gave you this t-shirt. Three years ago, he had ultimately decided you could keep it. It had become a sort of 'comfy outfit’, as you liked to call it.

And, as a matter of fact, you were looking for comfort. It was better being in a cozy shirt for the incoming fight and you had even mentally prepared a detailed speech to declaim.

A speech that you forgot, as if it had disappeared from your head, died on your tongue, as your eyes landed on the scenery before you.

The first thing catching your eyes was Muzan, who was sitting on the large leather sofa wearing a simple silky dressing gown. He had popped up a bottle of champagne, the finest of course. Two flûtes were settled on the glass coffee table at his feet, inviting you to drink it and enjoy yourself. Next to it, there was a silvery tray filled with a variety of sushi you had never seen before in your whole life. The cherry on top were the two basins in the middle of it: one of them was filled with strawberries, the other with melted chocolate.

Why? Why did he have to make it so hard for you to hate him? Why was he acting like a caring boyfriend, all of a sudden?

Muzan darted his eyes on you, his gaze scrutinizing your frame up and down for a few seconds, before he reached his hand out and grabbed the two flûtes of champagne "I did not know you were into the Rolling Stones" he noted, standing up and ambling towards you carrying a suffocating charm with him.

It was crazy. He knew everything about you. How could he forget your favorite band? It sounded so wrong. Apparently, he did not have anything under control, as he thought.

Your answer, however, soothed his nerves "I'm not. – you murmured, grabbing the flûte he was offering you – I just liked the t-shirt" you shortly added, watching the way his crimson hues twinkled even so slightly, as if he had just heard something pleasing coming from your mouth. You blamed it on your infatuation, though.

He nodded his head and gestured for you to take a seat "You have plenty of questions to ask me, right?" he stated, taking a small sip of his drink and following you back on couch.

"Of course, I have. – you agreed, propping your chin on the palm of your hand – Here's the first one: who are you and what you did of Muzan Kibutsuji?" you joked, cracking up a faint smile to ease off some nervousness engulfing your stomach.

The raven-haired man rolled his eyes at you "I'm unique and irreplaceable, darling. Untouchable too, if I may remind you of who I am" he remarked, glancing at you with a captivating, mischivious smirk.

You scrunched your nose and leant over to grasp the set of chopsticks on the coffee table, your eyes trailed on the assorted sushi tray in front of you. The nigiri looked absolutely inviting and, careful not to mess up the plate, you grasped one. As you brought the delicious food to your mouth, you could feel his eyes on you and, turning your head towards him, you ended up losing yourself into his red hues. You blushed and shoved the nigiri into your mouth, sighing as your taste buds exploded in ecstasy for the delicacy you were being fed with.

You had never eaten such a tasty nigiri. You hated to admit it, but Muzan only offered you the best.

"You are acting weird" you casually said, averting your eyes from him and staring at your lap. This romantic dinner was literally going to be agonizing, the equivalent of being skinned alive.

Muzan quirked his eyebrows up, taking another sip of his drink "Am I?" he curiously asked you, twirling the sparkling drink into the glass.

"Yes, you are" you piped out, before reaching your arm out to grasp another piece of sushi. His flirtatious and careless antics were not going to ruin your tasting.

Muzan did not reply at first. He watched you eating for a few minutes, the flush on your cheeks tickling his ego and forcing him to swallow his pride. You looked beautiful like that, but you were beautiful in a way only a man in love would see you as. You were cute.

Just before you could assault another uramaki, his hand latched around your wrist with a firm, but gentle grip. Your gaze flicked up to him, brows furrowed in the vain attempt to see past his impassible face. It was hard assuming his thoughts. It was like he never let anybody him. Muzan Kibutsuji was just like an ancient book, written in a language yet to be deciphered by linguists and archaeologists, that kept back a ominous prophecy. He was a disastrous, cataclysmic mystery no one could ever be prepared for.

He shifted his position, scooting closer to you, until your naked knees brushed and you were forced to struggle to steady your breath. You watched him attentively, you followed the way his hand reached into the bowl of strawberries and picked one, only to dip the bittersweet fruit into the melted chocolate, coating it almost in the middle.

Half-lidded eyes boring into his ones, you parted your lips as you realised what he wanted to do. Your grip on the chopsticks loosened and the thin sticks clattered on the floor. You flinched, scared of having ruined the moment, and lowerd your gaze to your lap, but he grasped your chin between his thumb and forefinger.

"Open your mouth for me" he purred, an ounce of authority still resounding in his words.

You shivered, his hand guiding the fruit towards your lips as you obediently executed his command. But as he fed you the strawberry, as you suppressed a moan at the taste of it, and his eyes bored into yours, you realized that you did not just want to please him. No, it was something boyond your mere submission. You did it willingly. Your lips had parted before he had even asked you to do it. You were doomed, he had casted his spell on you and, now, as he pushed his thumb past your lips, you were absolutely certain that you would have not been able to break free from that curse.

You blushed, as he tugged at your arm, pulling you closer to him. Your hands planted on his exposed chest, his lips hovering over yours and the electricity sparking around you took your breath away.

"What are you doing?" you breathed out, batting your eyes close.

"Isn't it obvious? – he whispered, one of his hand finding its way on your hip – I'm trying to make you like me" he said, stroking his nose against your cheek.

You scoffed "You are just messing with my head. You seem to care about... About this, about me. It feels real, at times" you replied, lifting your eyelids to argue something back.

He cupped your cheek in his hand "Perhaps, I do care".

Your heart skipped a beat at the unexpected confession, your will to build a wall around your heart wavering for a few seconds. Despite that, you tried your best to resist him.

"See? Stop this play, please—" you retorted, but you choked on your own words as kissed you, pushing you down onto the couch.

His lips devoured yours, his hand tracing the outline of your breast, letting it travel down your stomach and slipping past your worn-out t-shirt. You moaned into his mouth as he ground his groin onto yours, eliciting soft whimpers from your now rosy lips. You hated him, God, you really did. He was probably a master of manipulation, yet it was your fault if you had this power over you.

You had bent the knee, he had simply made you his faithful vassal.

"I'm not fucking playing, dear" he rasped, biting on your lower lip softly, after the last fervent kiss.

"Muzan... What are we?" you blurted out, his dark locks tickling your nose. You were still dazed for the thrill of the lustuful kisses he had gifted you with, therefore you had troubles in processing the words he said afterwards. But the inner, burning desire you felt for him made your tongue act on its on will.

"You are the frustrating woman who is driving me crazy, Y/N. – he said through gritted teeth, pinning your hands above your head – I am the man who is holding back not to cross the line. You are the one that I ultimately desire to have by my side" he said, watching your chest raise and fall erratically through the pants.

You looked so innocent, he almost did not want to ruin you further. But you just had to make it hard for him not to, right? You stared at him in defiance, your eyes glowing as if you wanted him to break you.

"What do you want from me?" you spat, seeking an admission from him.

"Your genuine love".

You blushed, biting the insides of your cheeks not to expose yourself too much. However, you royally messed up with three simply words.

"Court me then" you murmured, only to see how Muzan froze solid for a few seconds. You, you were the one messing with his head. You were the devil dragging him down to Hell. You had just had the audacity to ask of him something he had never done out of pure love in his own life. He courted people for business, to lure them into his trap, not to love them.

But with you it was different, right? With you, either you loved him or not, it would have been forever.

Therefore, raising on his knees, he smirked down at you "So be it. – he mused, unting the already loosened knot of his dressing gown – But I demand one last thing from you. Your complete submission".

The night was far from being over and before you could even nod your head at him, he had already flipped you over your stomach. Muzan Kibutsuji, the soon to be President, would have not left a single part of you unclaimed. You could bet your head on it.

♚

"I should have killed him when I had the chance" the tall Slayer said, pouring himself a glass of whisky. Anger, rage, he was consumed by the idea of you, the kid he had rescued that night from Muzan, currently being his newest follower. He wondered how he had failed in chopping his head off of his shoulders, or how he had failed in penetrating his heart with the blade.

Maybe, he would have missed the heart because he did not have one. Still, that man was alive and you were gone.

Kagaya joined him, their eyes scanning the cityline as they sipped on their drinks silently. There were things he wanted to say. Not only to Yoriichi, or Muzan. There were things he wanted to tell you, but he could not. How can you tell someone their entire life has been a complete lie? How could you tell them the parents they cried for every year, kneeling on their graves, were not their biological parents? You were a mistake, according to his father. You had to disappear from his son's life.

Kagaya Ubuyashiki, your father, had never gotten the chance to hold you in his arms.

Despite that, he had forgiven his father. Kindness had be instilled into you too. He had watched you grow up, rooted for you from afar. You were his daughter, no matter where you were.

"We all make mistakes, Yoriichi. We are humans, imperfect creatures failing relentlessly. – he started, clearing his throat – But there are good people out there who can forgive us, who love us despite our flaws" he calmly said, saddness dusting his pale purple eyes.

It occured to him that you could be so kind, big-hearted and good that someone would have risked it all to have you. He did not imagine it was going to be Muzan, though.

He had to kill him to have you back. For his daughter could not love such a monster. For his daughter, you, his snowflake, would have forgiven his father a second time.

AUTHOR NOTE.

Hi there! As promised, here we are with another chapter. Yoriichi is pissed and, to be honest, we all know what a pissed Yoriichi means… Also, Kagaya is finally making his official appearence. But, above all, Muzan is slightly becoming submissive, don’t you think? Well, Y/N is clearly challenging him!

Until next, I love you!

Tags: @tired-writer04 @hjjks @kakuchosbff @yazzzmints @bookandstar @z3r0art @cherrymanhuas @kazuhaslvt @selenenyx0124 @infinitedilf @yunixkill @shigarakithings @i-loveyou013 @yoriichi-second-wife

#muzan x reader #muzan x y/n #muzan kibutsuji x reader #muzan x you #muzan smut #muzan kibutsuji #kibutsuji muzan x reader #yoriichi x you #yoriichi x reader #yoriichi tsugikuni #kagaya ubuyashiki #demon slayer #kny fanfic #demon slayer fanfic

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blakeswritingimagines · 1 year ago

Text

I Can See You

Summary: Never noticing his crazed tendencies more so once you entered his life meant to be his bride, giving him the highest high other then when he got his dragon but you also give him his lowest low.

Word count: 2.0k

Disclaimer: I do not own any of the House of The Dragon/Fire & Blood characters nor do I claim to own them. I do not own any of the images used nor do I claim to own them.

You couldn't get over the fact that your parents were making you marry Prince Aemond, having at least tried getting to know him only you couldn't handle it due to how he came across as desperate and clingy even for a royal. Often going out of your way to ignore him or pass up on spending time with him as the time to marry became closer and closer with you feeling like you had to keep lying through your teeth and giving fake sweet smiles as you tried to figure out a way out of this. Aemond knew that he was destined to marry you from the moment that he was born. He sought after your hand for as long as he could remember. He didn't want any other bride. And it hurt him each time you avoided his advances. It felt as if his heart were being stabbed and his very soul was being ripped asunder every time he caught you avoiding him. What was it that made you shun him the way you did? He had to know.

Aemond was confused when you ignored him at family meals or in the training yard. He didn't understand, his mother had arranged the whole marriage just to improve the relationship between the Royal Family and your House. He couldn't understand what would cause you to completely ignore such a great opportunity that all Houses would kill for. "My dear," he said to you at lunch one day, "I cannot help but to be confused by your blatant ignoring of me. Do you have to be rude to the Prince who is to wed you?" "I don't want to be wed to you, Aemond." You had to look the other way and focus on some fruit before you, anything to not look at him. Aemond was handsome of course, and a Prince, but that was meaningless to you. You learned what kind of person he was, and you didn't want anything to do with him. "I do not wish to wed the prince," you said plainly as you finally stared right through him. You ate your food with your head held high, your back as straight as a board. You were not a girl who wanted to be wed, especially in an arranged marriage. "You may be the crown prince, but I don't want to marry you." You continued with your stern tone.

Aemond was fuming when you answered him. He was so angry he almost smashed his plate against the wall of the dining room. How dare you attempt to turn down his proposal? Who did you think you were? "Do you not understand that you don't have a choice?" he growled. "Do you not understand that my mother set up this arrangement, to improve the relationship between your family and Targaryens? No amount of rudeness or petulance will change that fact, you will be my wife and mother of my children." He was shocked, who were you to say no in an arranged marriage? What right did you have to turn it down? Aemond got up, glaring down at you, trying to intimidate you in some way. His voice was demanding, and it was evident that if you did not comply it would cause a scene, he was not someone you wanted to get to his bad side. "You will marry me, and you will do it with the respect that I, your betrothed, deserve." You flinched back as he stood up and approached you menacingly, you were scared but there was no way you could let him see it. You remained calm and cool and spoke as if you were not in a room full of people, in fact, you didn't even look at the people around you both. You focused on him. "Aemond, please you are embarrassing yourself…" You spoke with a calm, collected voice, and looked him dead in the eyes, with confidence in your voice. "Do not threaten me Aemond, you should learn to use the word “please”, I would be more inclined to do as you asked if that were the case. I will not be treated like this, and I refuse to be your wife." You put some fruits on a piece of bread and dipped it in honey, eating it as you stared up at him defiantly.

Aemond was shocked that you would respond so defiantly. Most would cower at his command, he couldn't understand why you refused to fear him. He had to get you away from the Hall and away from any potential listeners. "Come with me, we need to talk." He said, "In private." Aemond was taken aback by your response, he had not expected you to remain so composed. He wanted to shout and yell at you but instead didn't give you a chance as he made you follow him, but he could not cause a scene. It was not right, what was wrong with you? "I don't need to ask for anything, I will have what I demand!" He said through gritted teeth. He hated this, you were not showing any respect or fear to him, and it made him even angry. "You will marry me, and you will do it with a smile on your face, or else." You rolled your eyes as you were taken away from the Great Hall. You knew what was coming. When you faced Aemond in a more private area, a small smile came across your face. "Or else what, my Prince?" You said, looking at him defiantly. You saw that it made him mad, and that was the reaction you intended to have. "I was under the impression that I had the right of refusal, I could be mistaken." You said, trying to make him even angrier. "Or else what?" You did not know what you were asking for by pushing this, but you didn't care. You were tired of all these betrothals that were arranged for you just because the Houses wanted to benefit from it. This was your life, and you had the right to enjoy it. If Aemond thought that he had the right to marry you without even asking for your consent, then he should think again. "What will you do if I refuse?"

Aemond wanted to strangle you with his bare hands, how dare this girl refuse him? How dare a woman defy her future husband. Aemond was on the verge of attacking you, but something in his head was telling him to keep his composure for once and try to reason with you. "If you refuse me then you will cause problems between House Targaryen and your House, a situation that neither of us want." He said, trying to remain calm but his voice was wavering while he did, "I just want you to understand how important this marriage is." Aemond was beyond angry. Nobody had ever spoken to him like this before. This was the future Lady who was meant to live beside him and was treating him as if he were a regular person at a tavern. He had to teach you who was who in this hierarchy, what would the realm think if they heard of this defiance? "I will not suffer this disrespect!" Aemond said, grabbing your wrist. "You are my betrothed, and you will behave accordingly. Or I will teach you a lesson in respect." It felt so good to see him angry, your actions had achieved your goal… for now. However, you did not wish to be attacked or worse, especially not by this violent, arrogant Prince. You looked at his hand grabbing your arm with slight hesitation trying to think of a way out of it, but you did not pull away from it. "And how will you teach me this, Aemond? Are you going to beat me, do you think it would work?" You asked defiantly, you just looked at him, a small smile on your face, knowing what was coming. It was inevitable, you knew that. You just wanted to see how he would make her pay for your defiance. "Please teach me, Aemond." You whispered in his ear before pressing a small kiss to his jaw. "I want to learn how to be a proper wife." You pulled him down with you to the floor and kissed him passionately.

As months passed by in what felt to be a bat of an eye the wedding had been pushed up due to you falling ill, only nobody explained how as they wanted Aemond to be surprised by the news as you went back to acting cold toward him only really being nice when needed too or to get something from him. Late into the night when everyone had gone to bed you slowly got up and quietly made your way outside knowing nobody was up to see or hear you only going to find the note that explained you had left. Aemond had been excited about the wedding, he had finally met someone who would be a challenge, a person he could mold into the perfect wife. The weeks that you had spent together were the best of his life, he knew that by the time you both married you would produce beautiful Targaryen children. Aemond was in his chambers reading some old history of the First Men when a servant came to him and informed him that his bride had disappeared from your chambers. "Find her!" Aemond yelled, putting down the book. "Go! Find my bride!" He yelled as he chased after the servant. What kind of cruel jape was this? Was this some sort of ill attempt at a joke or something more sinister? Did you really not want to be his wife? You had abandoned him and the marriage.

Aemond had to find you, there was no question as to whether or not the wedding would continue. He was searching for you, he'd tear the very fabric of time itself apart to do so if he had to. But it would never come to that. You were around somewhere, and he would find you, and force you to marry him if he had to. There would be no escape for you, you would be his wife, and that was final. Aemond would look through the entirety of the Realm searching for you, questioning the servants as to where you might be. When he couldn't find you anywhere, he would assume you left him standing at the altar. Whether this was to get away from him or to escape another arrangement wasn't clear but one thing was, you clearly did not wish to be his Lady.

Aemond would be furious that you had just up and left him just days before the wedding, and that you might dare to be with another. Even when he's told your illness is you were pregnant and this might be the reason behind your disappearance, it was still a vile thing to do. He would go straight to his father King Viserys, to inform him of your absence, and ask him to find you. Aemond would be forced to marry another woman, but who that would be… Aemond had no idea. He would have failed his parents once again, if word spread far enough then he might be thought of as undesirable, not someone worthy of being married to. He could still hear his mother and father scolding him, "Aemond! Can you not do anything correctly? Just look at Aemond, can't even find a wife for himself." His voice would echo through his mind. Aemond would feel defeated. His parents would be disappointed in him yet again, and his kingdom would see him as incompetent. He would search for months, maybe even years for you, but he would eventually have to give up and find someone else to be his wife and to give his children the loving mother that he never had. He would be ashamed of himself and would make sure never to fail in this regard ever again.

Aemond would have to try and bury the memory of you away, but how long would it take? You clearly wanted to hurt him for some unknown reason. Would he ever be able to forget about you? Even as he married and had children with another... You were always a constant in his mind and thoughts from when he woke to when he rested his head for the night.

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