#i can very much relate to the Torment
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sizzky · 2 years ago
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In case anyone wants to know how normal I am about the latest widdershins page, just know that I immediately changed my discord icon to Wolfe looking over his shoulder in the second panel. Then, upon seeing this, my sibling (noted Mal enjoyer) immediately went to catch up and subsequently changed their own icon to Mal’s cheeky smile from panel five. There was much gushing about how Happy they are and how Happy For Them we are. So I’d say extremely normal, nothing of note here.
Screenshot under cut:
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donut-entendre · 3 days ago
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why are you starving your farmer's son to death. feed him
#grits teeth. none of you know him like i do#a dude who grew up with food and hard labor is going to be big. come on#im really truly not being specific bc this 'vision' of him just seems to persist endlessly.#its still actually just homophobia and fatphobia imo grow up make him big#he hates clothes and loves sunbathing and food(TREATS!) and does excersize 24/7. did we watch the same show#like that's not. donut. who is that. that's some guy you invited#everyone knows that a group of guys whos story revolves around being 'wrong' and unwanted#would primarily be made of a cishet skinny white male cast#obviously of course#the sunlamp joke made me remember something#i WISH i could go play lamia donut right now i need to do something and instead im throwing up (not related to this)#(but it is very funny to pretend soft uwu gay white blond skinny donut is the source of my woe)#im going to be tormented forever. nobody even cares about my phd#IVE BEEN HERE FOR 8 MISERABLE YEARS!!!!! !#oh god ive actually for real been obsessed with donut for 8 years#listen im talking right now inthe middle of possibley having food poisoned myself but listen listen listen#literally not my first time going on about it#he likes treats. he works out. you cannot deny he is big#i can't control you not putting some melanin on him bc i have nothing for that aside from his tanning#i PERSONALLY do not think he's white on top of that#but he is in no universe skinny#do i think he is as fat as as grif? probably not#he's definitely got enough muscle to carry some crazy shit compared to a city boy though#think actual animals (50lbs+) and bags of concrete (which can be 80+lbs a pop) and all the fucking.#donut cares SO MUCH about doing the things hes told to do. he can get it “Wrong” but how the fuck did he memorize sarge's plans otherwise#small donuts are not donuts those are holes#that is a sex object#kind of literally. lol.#i personally really dont like turning donut into a sex object from the fandom-eye view bc of how hard hes implied to be a SA victim
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eightmakesonebraincell · 9 months ago
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ateez as pirates who fall for you (maknae line)
read hyung line here
genre: pirate!ateez x gn!reader (fem!reader for jongho), fluff, angst, continuation of the pirate trope brainrot (but i must say i went all out for the plots this time)
length: 14.4k
c/w: heavy and mature themes - mdni, explicit language (swearing), death, violence, blood & injuries, weapons, illegal acts (piracy, attempted murder), alcohol, near-drowning, angst bc i mean angst, specific c/w for mingi’s au: hurt/comfort, allusions to depression
a/n: i’m very sad i never got to use this joke somewhere so - why are pirates called pirates? because they just arrrr 🙈🙉🙊 also to those who like connecting dots and whatnot there are a few easter eggs related to hyung line 🥚 big thanks to yumi @sorryimananti-romantic for getting me through the last three months of trying to work and write bc it’s been a ship time ha ha 😬👍
taglist: at the end
san
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pov: you run away with san and the cromer
through your waning breath, you reach a trembling hand up to cup san’s jaw
“s-san, don’t do it”
he lets out a racking sob as he shakes his head, expression marred with agony and torment that you can physically feel in his white-knuckled grasp that covers your own hand
the tears that drip off his jaw become lost to the ground, which is damp from moisture and your blood
you swallow the metallic taste in your mouth, “the cromer isn’t meant for changing fate.” it hurts to take a breath and you wince as you stutter. “it never goes th- the way you want it to…you know that by now”
san’s voice is broken and pained, “i don’t fucking care. it’s not going to stop me from trying”
he grips your hand even tighter when he starts to feel it fall away from his cheek
it’s becoming tiring to keep your eyes open
maybe you can rest…just for a little bit
san will forgive you, right?
you close your eyes
just for a little while
just until the pain stops
faintly, you think you can feel your body being jostled against something warm
but it’s far away
far away
far
san clutches your limp body as he lets out a primal wail of anguish
you cannot die
you will not die
he snatches the glowing hourglass and flips it with desperation screaming in every cell of his body
and then his world goes white.
you don’t notice when the footsteps behind you suddenly fall silent
you’re too busy reasoning with the captain, whose back you are facing as he walks ahead and leads your crew further into the dim tunnels of the cave
“it’s much safer if we go over the mountain. we’ll have the advantage of higher ground to ambush the horizon”
your captain, taesung, doesn’t look at you when he answers over his shoulder, “it’s much quicker through the tunnels. we don’t have the luxury of time if we want to attack their crew before they leave the island”
“and what if they attack - the horizon can easily ambush us as long as they’ve got the cave’s exit guarded”
you immediately turn around to look at san, knowing that he’ll support your argument
only to find that he’s not there
he’s several metres behind the back of the group and frozen to the spot
even in the shadowed darkness of the musty cave, you can clearly see the ashen and shaken features of his face
approaching him slowly, your fire torch held out in front of you, you gently call, “san?”
at the sound of your voice, his eyes lock onto yours
he looks terrified
san is lost in a distorted warp of visions
he can’t make sense of nor connect what he’s seeing
but there is blood
there’s so much blood
it’s everywhere
you’re there
it’s your blood
there’s someone screaming; raw with despair
he’s screaming
the ground digs into his knees and he feels wet and sticky from your blood but also his tears and there are so many tears and the walls are cold from moisture and it’s so dark and musty even with the smell of iron in the air and god you’re dying
you’re going to die
“san?” you repeat, now in front of him and tenderly cupping his jaw
and san has to stop you from dying
his pupils focus on you once again before he desperately tries to gain his bearings
he looks around with increasing franticness
he’s in a cave and the only light he can see comes from the torch you’re holding and the others shared amongst the crew
water drips from the ceiling and along the rugged walls towards the damp ground, filling the cave with a stale and mouldy smell
all his senses scream the same thing to him
it’s just like when you died
his own voice sounds foreign to him when he manages to choke out, “let’s listen to captain”
your eyebrows pinch together at san’s sudden compliance, especially more so when he lowers the volume of his next words so that you’re the only one who can hear his soft don’t argue with him
there’s something about the way he silently pleads with his eyes that makes you nod numbly
you slip the hand that isn’t holding the torch into his and prompt him to walk again with a light tug forward towards the rest of the crew, who are not too far ahead
when the both of you have nearly caught up, san readjusts his hand in your grasp so that his is atop of yours
and so you two walk, san leading you with a sturdy hand; a line of defence between you and the rest of the crew…and the depths of the cave
the thin sheet of cotton that you lay upon does little to soften the discomfort of the cave’s floor as you and the crew prepare for a few hours of sleep, but your pillow makes up for it
your head is cushioned by san’s thigh, who’s seated upright against the wall after offering to keep watch
he’s gazing down at you with a tender smile as he slowly runs his fingers through your hair like a soothing lullaby
your eyes scan his, still trying to catch any changes in his expression that could possibly explain his strange demeanour from earlier
you want to ask him what’s wrong but there’s only so much privacy you can get in a cave with the rest of your crew
instead, you give his hand a squeeze
san’s smile fades a little and you wonder whether it’s the illusion of the light and shadows from the torches that makes his face look so gaunt
his eyes flicker around guiltily and then he looks at you whilst reciprocating your squeeze
he’s mouthing something, you realise
do you trust me?
you tighten your fingers around his in reassurance
with my life
the dimpled caverns return to san’s cheeks, and then he’s whispering to you softly, “sleep”
you don’t recall dozing off, but you must not have been asleep for very long before you’re woken by a light shake to your shoulder
the groggy mumble that starts to leave your lips is hushed by a warm kiss on your forehead
you’re met with the sight of san holding a finger against his lips when you open your eyes and your brain struggles to comprehend what’s happening
there’s a faint glow coming from under his bulging shirt, which could only be one thing
the cromer
as your neurons start firing again, you come to the realisation that apart from you and san, nobody else is awake yet
quietly, he helps you up to your feet
the silent question he asked before you fell asleep replays in your head, and although it does nothing to clear up your confusion, it helps to ease your anxiety because you meant it when you mouthed your response
you trust san with your life
so you turn away from your crew members and start walking, each step deliberate and careful, your hand clutched safely within san’s while he retraces your steps from today
and when san deems you two far enough and out of immediate danger of being caught, he pulls the cromer out of his shirt to use as a makeshift torch
you both make a run for it
when you emerge out of the cave’s entrance hours later, thighs burning from the strain, you almost stumble to your hands and knees from the blinding brightness of the afternoon sun
san tightens his hold on you and urges, “this way, love”
together, you climb the outcrop on the left and disappear further into the mountains because you can’t afford to rest near the cave
few words are exchanged as san nimbly navigates the rickety ledges and overgrown roots, muscles flexing as he pushes forward and helps you with an extended hand
you realise soon after that whilst he leads you two away from the cave, he travels parallel to the edges of the mountain trees - a guideline that keeps the long port of the island just within sight
“san,” you finally break the silence to point towards an overhang you spot, “we should take a break”
he’s sweating from exertion and lack of sleep, so he nods with a grateful smile and leads you towards it
the rock provides a decent amount of shade and conceals you two well enough with the surrounding greenery
only when he sits with a sigh does he finally let go of your hand after hours of holding on
you know that he’s one for constant physical affection, but this…this feels different
it’s like he’s afraid that you will slip away the moment he lets go of you
you turn to look at him
“san, what exactly is going on?”
he’s quiet
he doesn’t know how to tell you - is there even a way to package his next words prettily?
letting out a stuttering breath, san puts it blankly on the table, “i saw you die in my arms”
you’re stunned into silence and your throat feels even drier than before
“was it…” you dare to ask, “was it going to happen in the cave?”
he nods, “i just suddenly saw it and it felt so real. it- it was dark and wet and the smell - the smell was just awful and-”
“hey, hey, san. it’s okay, we’re not in the cave anymore,” you soothe, pressing your forehead to his
you feel him relax under your touch before he tilts his head to kiss your lips
“yeah,” he sighs against you, “you’re right”
when you pull away, the faint glow under his shirt catches your eyes
“why did you bring the cromer?”
if it had only been you and san missing from the crew, taesung might not have bothered going after the two of you
but with the missing cromer too, the captain will spend the rest of his life tracking it down - tracking you two down - if that’s what it will take
taesung isn’t stupid enough to just let go of the cromer and the inexplicable power it holds to travel between dimensions
san shimmies the hourglass out of his shirt and holds it carefully in his hands, “i need a fail-proof safety net, just in case something goes wrong and…i still don’t end up saving you”
“a safety net?” an uneasy feeling settles in your stomach, “san? what are you not telling me?”
he runs his fingers along the metal casing over and over again as he avoids looking at you
“i…i’ve used it before,” san finally admits, “i used the cromer to bring you back to life”
without thinking, you blurt, “it’s only meant for travelling between dimensions. nobody knows what the repercussions are if you try to mess with fate!”
“well, i did it.” he snaps, “you’re here, alive, and i would do it again and again to save you”
at his words, you soften
because san didn’t just see you die
he lived through seeing you die
you can’t even begin to imagine if you had been the one to experience san die in your arms
“i’m sorry,” you apologise. “thank you for saving me, and for loving me”
san’s eyes are red when he looks at you, “i’m sorry, too, for snapping at you. i know this is a lot for you to process”
you shake your head with your own watery smile
“i’m alive, and i promise i’ll stay alive”
“and i promise i’ll keep you alive,” he nudges your cheek with a playful peck
you laugh, because san makes you happy even in the most uncertain of times, and you ask, “what’s the plan now?”
“find a ship that’s willing to get us the hell out of here”
he makes a move to stand and you place your hand on the ground to push yourself up to your feet too
except your hand shifts with your weight and you end up cutting your palm open on the sharp edge of the rocks
hissing, you draw your hand back towards your chest
“shit, let me have a look,” san drops to his knees and takes your hand in his
he gently blows away the soil and rubble around your wound as you wince
it’s nothing too serious, but it’s deep enough that blood immediately begins to pool in the broken skin and seep further out onto your palm
the glow of the cromer pulses
“san,” you start when you see the cogs moving in his head
he removes one hand to pull the cromer out and presents it to the both of you
“i’m not losing you to infection from a cut, not after everything that we’ve done so far to get to here,” he quips
there’s only time to let out an exasperated sigh before he’s taking your good hand to turn the cromer together
your world goes white
the next moment when you open your eyes after blinking, you’re still there resting under the overhang in the mountain forest
san’s sitting next to you, the only sign of the cromer a faint glow under his shirt
and your hand…
there’s no cut
your head whips towards san and his eyes widen when he sees the unbroken skin of your palm
san makes a move to stand, but this time, he gathers your hands and pulls you up with him
“it worked,” you breathe out once you’re on your feet
“it worked!” san repeats, engulfing you into a crushing hug
the amount of relief he feels is uncontainable, because the cut is reassurance that he can change fate with the cromer
in high spirits, san tucks it back into the safety of his shirt after wrapping it in a length of sash and then he secures it snugly under his belt
you two need to look the part of inconspicuous travellers, and a glowing hourglass would most definitely draw unwanted attention
you and san cut through the back streets and alleyways of the small village that separates the mountain and the coast, keeping an eye out for not only your crew members - or ex-crew, you suppose - but also the members of the horizon
“remember,” san whispers into your ear as you both approach port, “if anyone asks, i’m your husband and we’re travelling merchants”
you’re too nervous to answer but you nod anyway, letting san take the lead once again
with the confidence of somebody most definitely not lying, san strides up to a sailor who is yelling at his men to load the crates faster and spins a story right out of his ass
somehow, san manages to concoct a convincing recount of how your goods were stolen by thieves, leaving you both without any means of making money, so now you are left with no choice but to go back to your hometown which happens to be on the way to the ship’s destination, which you know because you overheard the sailors talking earlier
when the sailor glances in your direction, you try to nurse your expression into one of simultaneous distress and gratitude in hopes of selling the story even further
he simply stares at the both of you and you think that he’s going to turn down your request, but then the sailor gives a sweet smile and extends his hand out in greeting, “daeho. welcome aboard”
that’s how you and san find yourselves in the ship’s hold, legs crossed side by side on the wooden floor and surrounded by a multitude of crates and barrels
neither of you realise that you’re holding your breaths and it’s not due to the stale air in the poorly ventilated hold
only when the shout of “anchors aweigh” is heard and the ship slowly starts to pull away from the dock do you finally relax, the feeling of hope slowly seeping into your bodies
because all that’s left now is to wait for the ship to dock at the next port and then you and san can disappear and start a new life
at the notion of safety, your stomach finally calls for attention with a grumble
san teases, “sounds like someone needs a bit of food,” just as his stomach answers with a growl of its own
you break out into laughter and pull him up with you to snoop inside the crates for something edible
lifting the lid to one of the crates, you peer inside to find what looks like a layer of burlap
you reach down with a hand to remove the covering and dig deeper, only to jerk your arm back when you feel the burning pain of a cut
“oh fuck, what?” you hiss as you look into the crate again, “why the hell are there so many knives?”
san is beside you within a split second, already turning you around to cradle your hand in his
the cut extends across your palm and there’s something sickening yet eerily familiar about the way the blood rapidly starts to pool and seep past the broken skin
goosebumps spread across your body when it hits you
“san,” you look up at him with a trembling voice, hardly audible over the pounding of your heart, “it’s the same cut”
his eyes bore into yours with reflected horror when your words sink in
because if it really is the same cut, then that means-
san’s attention suddenly shifts to behind you and that’s the last thing you register before your head explodes with blinding pain
your world turns black.
there’s a ceaseless hammering in your skull when you regain some semblance of awareness and it takes all of your willpower not to let the throb drag you back into unconsciousness
you open your eyes with a groan, trying to clear your vision, only to find san still out cold on the floor beside you
you scrabble closer towards him and brush his fringe out of his eyes
“san,” you shake him a little, “san, wake up”
his mouth tightens into a grimace as he’s slowly brought back to consciousness at the sound of your voice
“fuck…they hit hard,” he props himself up with another curse before he asks you in a panic, “are you hurt?”
you start to shake your head but then think better of it, “my head hurts like a bitch, but i’m okay”
san pulls you into his chest and wraps his arms around you
you let yourself sink into the safety of his embrace, pretending that everything is okay even if just for a moment
“i’m sorry, i’m so sorry,” san repeats the apology into the crown of your head
you can’t do anything but return hushed whispers of comfort and hug him tighter
a sudden clang draws you out of his arms as you both turn in the direction of the sound
that’s when you realise you’re no longer in the hold
you’re in a cell
the brig of the ship is much darker and the air is suffocatingly musty from the lack of ventilation and the perpetually damp floors and walls
damp from what exactly, you really don’t want to know
you hear the heavy thud of boots amplifying as the person approaches your cell, your eyes straining to make out their face in the dark
they squat in front of your bars
the sweet smile on daeho’s face makes him look crazed now and you shrink back to put some distance between you two
“did you have a good rest?” he asks, sounding genuinely curious
at san’s seething growl of anger, daeho raises his hands up in faux surrender and states, “i just want the cromer”
“i don’t know what you’re talking about,” san glowers
the other man wriggles his fingers at san’s waist, “you’re not very good at hiding it in your shirt”
almost as if it knows it is being talked about, the cromer flashes from under the layers of cloth
“why didn’t you just take it from us earlier,” you bite out
daeho clicks his tongue with a disappointed smile, “but then where’s the fun in that?”
he stretches a hand out and waits with his palm upturned just outside of the cell bars
“now give it to me,” he demands
san stares in retaliation, not once looking away as he slowly reaches for the cromer
he takes it out of his shirt and unwraps the sash from around it, then starts to extend the hourglass out towards daeho’s hand
as you watch with bated breath, you notice the subtle tightening of san’s grip around the metal casing and you realise he intends to flip it
except you’re not the only one who comes to the same conclusion
you see the exact moment the facade drops from daeho’s face and is replaced by his true derangement
the hand by the pistol at his side starts to move
but so do you
this time, everything turns red as the scorching heat of pain paralyses your entire body
the cromer falls to the floor at the same time as you do
from outside the cell, daeho laughs viciously, but it’s drowned out by the agonising cry that comes out of san’s chest
san desperately gathers you in his arms, hands pressing against the bullet hole to stem the blood flow
but there is so much blood
it’s everywhere
the ground digs into his knees and he’s wet and sticky from your blood but also from his own tears and there are so many tears and even with the pungent smell of iron in the air he can still smell the mustiness of the cell and he can’t get enough oxygen into his lungs because god you’re dying
and he’s suddenly struck with the heart-wrenching thought
did he unwittingly condemn you to your own fate?
or is it like the cut on your palm - is he unable to change fate no matter what decisions he makes differently?
the sob that wrenches itself out of san hurts you more than anything
“i love you,” you say, because your words are numbered and you want them all to be san’s
he shakes his head furiously, “shut up, you’re going to be fine”
your words come out effortfully, “please, i want to hear you say it one last time”
“fuck,” san buries his face in your shoulder, “i love you so, so much. i can’t live without you”
he pulls back heartbroken, “i can still change this”
through your waning breath, you reach a trembling hand up to cup san’s jaw
“s-san, don’t do it”
he lets out a racking sob as he shakes his head again, expression marred with agony and torment that you can physically feel in his white-knuckled grasp that covers your own hand
the tears that drip off his jaw become lost to the damp ground
you swallow the metallic taste in your mouth, “the cromer isn’t meant for changing fate.” it hurts to take a breath and you wince as you stutter. “it never goes th- the way you want it to…you know that by now”
san’s voice is broken and pained, “i don’t fucking care. it’s not going to stop me from trying”
he grips your hand even tighter when he starts to feel it fall away from his cheek
it’s becoming tiring to keep your eyes open
maybe you can rest…just for a little bit
san will forgive you, right?
you close your eyes
just for a little while
just until the pain stops
faintly, you think you can feel your body being jostled against something warm
but it’s far away
far away
far
san clutches your limp body as he lets out a primal wail of anguish
you cannot die
you will not die
he snatches the glowing hourglass and flips it with desperation screaming in every cell of his body
and then his world goes white.
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mingi
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pov: you're the crew's surgeon
you have all the time in the world to yourself
the recent raid was successful - the other vessel had surrendered quickly without putting up a fight and your ship is now well stocked up from the loot of supplies
hongjoong has promised the crew shore leave, a vacation of sorts, and so you and the crew are travelling to port malthov, a haven island for pirates
it’ll take about a week to arrive
and without a foreseeable raid or run-in with enemy vessels, there is no need for your medical duties
which is a good thing, really
but it also means that you have a lot of time
and time is your worst enemy
time is time alone with your own thoughts, time alone with your internal demons, and right now, your mind is a sinkhole of them and you are the very thing being pulled into its depths
you’re sprawled out on the upper deck, arms and legs splayed like a physical manifestation of your efforts to reach the edges of the sinkhole and hold on
you think to yourself that it’s reassuring when you can see blood
because it’s visible, physical, and you can fix it
step one, rinse the area with clean water
step two, disinfect the wound
step three, remove any foreign objects or dead skin
step four, suture as required for nastier injuries
step five, wrap a clean cloth over, under, over, under, then fasten
there’s a procedure and it makes sense
but when it’s invisible, what do you do?
there are no medical diagrams, procedures or journals that teach you how to heal your own hurt
you may be the crew’s surgeon, but you wonder how qualified you truly are if you can’t even fix yourself
the skies are clear today and the sun shines down directly on your exposed skin
it’s uncomfortable but you don’t move, limbs feeling just a little too strung tight to cooperate
you don’t think you have the energy to do much more than to just lie there and exist
and the burn of the sunlight is kind of nice
it tells you that you’re still alive - even if the feeling of living is pain
that’s where mingi finds you twenty minutes later, his face upside down as he leans over to look at your face-
only to very nearly drop a block of wood right onto you
“oh, shit,” he fumbles as the multitude of items he is carrying to his chest falls and clatters onto the deck around your head
you jolt up to save yourself from a bruised forehead and eye him, curiosity well and truly piqued
with a huff, he piles everything in front of you, followed by himself as he sits cross-legged in front of you
he looks suspiciously hopeful and expectant
“can you carve me another dolphin?”
months ago, you had tried carving ornamental animals out of small scraps of wood left over from a hull repair
most of your carvings had turned out hideous and you had tossed them overboard, but mingi had not stopped following you and begging until you gave him one
you could barely even call it a dolphin, but for some reason, he has kept it since like it’s something valuable
“i already made you one,” you start
but he protests, “i lost him!”
you blink
nevermind. maybe not so valuable
“...you lost it?”
you’re not sure whether you’re disappointed or relieved that it’s forever gone to the void
“i lost him, yes. so can you please carve me a new one?”
you blink once more and he looks back at you with wide, pleading eyes
“fine, pass me the knife,” you finally relent
he grins, handing something that feels quite familiar into your outstretched hand
“are these my scalpels?!” you clutch them defensively to your chest. “mingi, i am not carving wood with these”
mingi breaks out into pleased laughter, crescent eyes and gaping mouth as he produces a pocket knife that you can actually use
“you’re ridiculous,” you tell him, setting your medical instruments safely to one side, but you don’t really mean it
you bring the blade of the pocket knife to the edge of the wood and start whittling away
you expect mingi to get up and leave you to your devices, except he doesn’t
he stays and asks you question after question about the carving
which part are you working on now?
how do you shape the tail?
what was the first thing you tried to carve?
if you could carve something else after this, what would it be?
and it goes on for hours - as the wood gradually takes shape of the animal, as the harsh sun lowers and is replaced by the cool breeze of evening
…as mingi fills up your sinkhole and you are no longer grasping at the edges to stay afloat
it happens without you even realising, but he lets you take refuge in him from your own thoughts
and later that night, when the crew are preparing to sleep for the night, mingi will place the newly-carved dolphin at the head of his hammock
he will itch to rummage through the small chest that holds his personal belongings and treasures
he will want to unwrap the small object he has hidden away at the very bottom of his chest and put it side by side with the dolphin
but he won’t, because otherwise you’ll see the two dolphins and realise that he was lying about having lost the first one, so he’ll opt to keep it hidden
mingi thinks that he might even ask you to carve him something else tomorrow
he’ll say that his dolphin needs somebody by its side
what he won’t say though, is that he knows you need somebody by your side
and if he can offer you a few hours of mindlessness while you carve with him beside you, then he’ll ask you to make him a whole aquarium of animals
but that’s tomorrow
for now, he lets you rest on him, and you find that it doesn’t seem quite as hard to exist anymore
because sometimes, even surgeons need their own healers
you don’t have another bad day that week
technically, they’re all still bad days, but they aren’t as bad
but as it is with your luck, it all comes back to drag you underwater when the arriba pulls into port malthov and lowers its anchor
of all days, your head feels foggy, your body feels empty and your lungs feel laboured
you’re not even sad
you’re just…hollow
and the worst part is that you have absolutely no reason to be feeling this way
being up in the crow’s nest for once has given you the perfect vantage point to watch as the majority of the crew precariously run off the gangplank with whoops and hollers, splitting off to explore the town
their excitement is infectious - to everybody but you
instead, you had offered to take over yeosang’s lookout duties so that he could go to the town’s tavern
you’ve already rotted the morning and most of the afternoon away and your stomach grumbles in protest at having skipped both meals
it knows that you probably won’t be eating dinner either
“y/n,” a voice calls out to you from the deck, “are you not going into town?”
you peer over the edge of the nest and find mingi’s small form, his head craned upwards in your direction
“lookout duties,” you simply say
but mingi calls your bluff
“the whole point of shore leave is that we all get time off. captain’s still on board to make sure our ship doesn’t catch on fire or some shit, don’t worry”
when you still don’t make a move, mingi starts to climb up the rigging and you startle to your feet
“heavens, okay, i’m coming down”
he’s banned from rigging duties for a reason
when you land on the upper deck, he looks awfully smug with himself
he asks, “can we go eat seafood? not fish, but like the good stuff”
“since when did you like seafood?”
“always?”
mingi did not always like seafood but you let it slide
he guides you across the gangplank and towards the bustling streets of the town, keeping you tucked closely into his side
almost like he knows you’re feeling more fragile than usual
you two come across a market and he tells you to find a table in the outdoor seating area
when he returns to you after a while, both his hands are stacked with platters of shrimp, some crabs and even a lobster
“mingi, what-?” you break out into an astounded laugh
you can’t even find it in yourself to finish your sentence because it looks like he’s bought enough food to feed half your crew
he sets the plates down in front of you, one by one, until you can barely see the table itself
and you watch, still incredulous, as he picks up a steamed shrimp, meticulously peeling off the shells that he discards onto his plate
…before placing the peeled shrimp onto the plate in front of you
“eat,” he encourages
mingi picks up another shrimp to peel, looking away from you so as not to pressure you
but he can’t help but look and smile widely when you do eventually bring the food up to your mouth and take a bite
it tastes good
shrimp has always been one of the things you miss the most when you’re sailing and as the salty taste of the ocean spreads across your tongue, you start to feel your appetite returning
by the time you’ve swallowed, there’s already another shrimp on your plate, peeled and ready for eating
mingi smiles knowingly when you groan around your next bite
the sun may have already started to disappear into the horizon, but right now with mingi’s plate piling up with discarded shells and yours with juicy shrimp meat, the hollow cavity in your chest slowly filling with warmth, the sun is only just starting to rise for you
and mingi will keep filling your plate until your sun has fully risen into the sky
because sometimes, healing needs the help of an extra pair of hands
the day before your crew is scheduled to leave port malthov, you find yourself sitting on the sandy shores of the coastline, far away from where the arriba is docked
the wind tugs at your hair and the hems of your clothing in the direction of the ocean
you wonder what it would be like to just let yourself go and float along with the wind
your thoughts are interrupted by the soft squeaks of bare feet in the sand approaching you and mingi lowers himself down to sit by your side
no matter where you hide, he somehow always finds you
you give him a small smile when he calls your name in greeting, but it’s all you can really manage to do
it’s hard for you to talk today
but he already knows that
“can i tell you a story?” mingi isn’t really asking you
without waiting for a response he knows you can’t give, he starts to talk
“i don’t think i’ve told you about the time when yunho and i went skinny-dipping at night. i swear we saw the kraken that night”
he has told you this story before
more times than you can count on your fingers and toes combined - to the point where you have some of his exact phrases and expressions memorised
mingi knows he’s told you this story before
but he drones on anyway, adding his usual touches of dramatic flair and exaggerated details - words that he hopes keep you grounded to the spot so that you don’t disappear with the wind
(“did you know that yunho’s chest goes red when he screams in fright?”)
you want to make silly little comments about his silly little story
you want to laugh in harmony with mingi’s own rumbling sounds
except you can’t
it’s like whatever you want to say goes through a paper shredder right before it comes out of your mouth
and mingi knows
but he is willing to take all the time in the world to tape your words back together, shredded piece by shredded piece, until he can make you feel heard and seen
and even if you don’t talk, he is there to do enough talking for the both of you
some things don’t need to be said - he understands either way
because sometimes, healing looks like walking backwards on any progress that’s been made and that’s okay
after all…mingi’s been there before, too
the arriba sets sail again and hongjoong allows the crew one last night of rest before your usual duties resume
the stock of fresh produce and meat won’t last for longer than a couple of days anyway, so you all feast your stomach’s fill of food and alcohol
someone brings out an accordion and you all gather together on the upper deck as jongho sings to the music, background filled with the lively rattling of shared plates and mugs being passed around
the air is chilly but it’s crisp and fresh whenever you take a breath of it into your lungs
where being with the multitude of your crew usually makes you feel lonely, tonight, it feels okay
and from beside you, mingi sings along quietly to the music
his voice is not like jongho’s, which is soulful, emotional and powerful
mingi’s voice is deep, honest and raw as he sings the lyrics to the song of a man who is drowning and yearning to be saved
he looks at you during the last bridge, when the key changes from sorrowful to hopeful and the words tell of a man who is saved by his lover
you smile back at him, genuinely content in this moment
and even if it is only briefly, even if you will still have bad days in the future, you think that today is a good day
because healing takes form in all different ways, and being loved is one of them
maybe one day, mingi will be able to confess that he loves you
when he’s confident that you’ll be able to accept his love
not in the way where he expects you to reciprocate the same feelings for him, no
but in the way where you are able to accept the fact that you are worthy of being loved
there are no medical diagrams, procedures or journals that teach you how to heal your own hurt
but you have mingi and he is making one for you
it’s written with the ink of love on the very pages of his own heart and he will not stop writing until the day you are well and truly happy
and even if it takes forever?
well
mingi’s got a huge fucking heart
and it’s all yours
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wooyoung
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pov: you find a stowaway on your ship
“we’re headed off course again”
“again?” you look at your helmsman with furrowed brows
yunho nods, sighing out his next words, “i can’t get a read on north. the needle keeps flickering”
you look at the compass that’s mounted at the helm and true to his words, the tip of the arrow seesaws back and forth over the cardinal point
a quick glance down tells you that the newer compass you’ve got in your pocket is also behaving in the same manner, needle twitching despite the practised steadiness of your hands
so you know for sure that it’s not a fault in the instrument at the helm itself
but even if it were to be faulty, you would never replace it
not when it’s one of the only things you have remaining of your parents after they perished at sea
“maybe we should ask him,” yunho suggests, beckoning his head towards the deck
although seonghwa hums thoughtfully, having joined you both at the helm mid-conversation, you look at him incredulously
“you trust that person?”
yunho shrugs, “it’s not like he’s given us a reason to not trust him”
well
considering said man had been found stowing away in the cargo five days after your ship had left alcarres, who then also tried to plead for mercy by reasoning that he was ‘valuable’, you think that there’s plenty of reasons to not trust him
yunho rectifies his argument once he sees the pinched expression on your face, “as in, since we’ve found him on board”
you close your eyes and exhale
admittedly, yunho has a point
and there’s been one too many times where the man has flippantly suggested navigational changes or casually observed shifts in the winds and waters - which all turned out to be accurate - for it to be sheer luck
you open your eyes and call out to the upper deck
“stowaway”
yunho winces as seonghwa chides you with a slight elbow to your side at your choice of name, or lack thereof
said man looks at you from where he’s helping san and yeosang swab the deck, mouth tightening with wariness
the last time you had spoken the same word, it was along with an order to throw him into the brig with his wrists bound behind his back
but considering that that was the extent of his punishment for stowing away on your ship and he is now mingling amongst your crew with minimal security measures on your orders too, really, he’s gotten off scot-free
the stowaway approaches the quarterdeck with hesitant steps
you jerk your head towards the helm, “help yunho navigate the rest of the way to vlasgar. just until we can dock and work out what’s wrong with the compasses''
despite the curtness of your order, his face scrunches up into an enthusiastic grin
“of course, captain!”
you’re taken aback by his demeanour because you’re trying to find a reason to distrust him
but he’s not giving it to you
you watch as the stowaway makes himself comfortable against the helm rails and easily slips into conversation and banter with yunho amidst intermittent pointers to adjust the rudder
seonghwa nudges you from behind, “give him a little credit”
you scratch your neck awkwardly before calling out to your helmsman
“keep me updated on the ship’s course”
yunho nods and then you clear your throat, quickly glancing at the stowaway
“and thanks…wooyoung.”
you turn and leave the quarterdeck before you can fully catch a glimpse of the delighted smile the man beams at you
because if he’s not giving you reasons to dislike him, then you’re going to ensure he doesn’t start giving you reasons to like him
except…wooyoung attacks when you least expect it
it’s the night before your crew reaches vlasgar, and true to his claims when he was first discovered onboard, wooyoung has proven his value by navigating your ship through the waters without the aid of the malfunctioning compass
his innate sense for shifts in the wind and waters, combined with his understanding of celestial navigation and use of dead reckoning has meant that he is extraordinarily precise with his route
honestly, he’s freakishly accurate to the point where it’s a little unsettling
at least that’s what you tell yourself
you and hongjoong have given the crew the night off from their usual duties in preparation for a few busy days of maintenance and intel-gathering once your ship docks at vlasgar
wooyoung offers to cook in the galley and whip up a meal as fancy as he can from the select ingredients on board
you don’t have a good reason to deny him, not when the rest of your crew looks at you with eager faces at the thought of a meal that isn’t just the usual salted meat, so you send mingi along to help him locate the ingredients
also to keep an eye on wooyoung to ensure he isn’t using this as an opportunity to poison your crew, but you’re not about to admit that aloud
and that’s exactly when wooyoung chooses to attack
he attacks your heart with his cooking
granted, the standards are rock bottom, but wooyoung utilises a deadly combination of rosemary, thyme and bay leaves to prepare a hearty broth with preserved beef
he serves hardtack on the side to be softened and eaten with the broth, and jongho even manages to catch a few fish that wooyoung then scores and grills with lemon slices over the fire
mingi must also be in good spirits because he takes out the reserve of dried fruits and nuts that he’s usually pedantic over and allows wooyoung to arrange them artfully in a wooden bowl as nibblers to go with the profusion of rum that will inevitably be downed tonight
the impressive spread of food is placed on the upper deck where the entire crew sit in a rough circle together
you take one bite into the beef and curse without realising
“fucking hell, what did he put in this?”
wooyoung freezes mid-spoonful across from you in the circle
realising your words sound petrifying without context, you awkwardly amend them with your eyes glued to your bowl, “i could eat this every day,” before shoving another spoon of broth into your mouth to shut yourself up
there’s a chorus of teasing oooh’s at your words and somebody sing-songs, “captain likes youuu-r cooking”
“i don’t,” you scoff, completely ready to bite the bait and engage in this childish argument
but it’s him who comes to your defence
“it’s not my cooking, it’s just the spices that make a difference,” wooyoung insists
then he’s gesturing to the grilled fish and telling everyone to try, diverting the attention away from you
you accidentally make eye contact with him and initially flicker your eyes away out of embarrassment, but when you chance a peek back at him he’s still looking at you, his expression uncharacteristically calm and gentle when usually all you can hear these days is his raucous laughter bouncing across the deck
…not that you can recognise his laughter or anything
you stare at each other for a few more seconds before you lift up your bowl of beef broth and give him a little smile
you leave it up to him to interpret it however he wants
and just before you look away, you see the apples of his cheeks rounding with elation
wooyoung’s potentially earned himself a few points with his cooking (and perhaps with his unfailing happiness too), but maybe you’re just looking for excuses as to why you’re allowed to like him now
when you decide to take a walk in town long after midnight, your quarters having felt stuffy ever since you’d docked at vlasgar, you’re surprised to find that you’re not the only one still awake
“i’m going out for some air and maybe a drink, did you want to come?”
hongjoong shakes his head, “hwa’s gone out too, i’ll stay behind”
you pause, wondering whether it’d be rude if you didn’t extend the invitation to wooyoung, considering he’s literally two feet away
“what about you?” you end up offering
wooyoung excitedly hops up to his feet, “yeah, i’ll come with”
to your own surprise, you find that you’re not particularly disappointed by his response
the streets of vlasgar are empty, considering the late hour, and your leather shoes clack in unison against the cobblestones as you walk together
you’re not really sure what to say to fill the silence but wooyoung easily talks about anything and everything and you’re content to just listen
your feet eventually take you towards a small alehouse and you both settle down at one of the tables further away from the live music playing
the oil lamps flicker dimly along the wall, casting small dancing shadows on the surface of your mugs of ale
“my father never liked the taste of ale,” wooyoung suddenly muses after a swallow
you note the use of past tense
“is he…still around?” you ask tentatively
he makes a noise of refutation, the quietest he’s been tonight, before he reveals, “he took his own life”
“oh, wooyoung,” you breathe out
he curls his hands around his mug, “it’s already been two years, but it still hurts”
in a moment of empathy, you gently place your hand over his
your tone is bitter when you reply, “time doesn’t mean that it hurts any less, it just gets easier to pretend that it doesn’t”
he looks up at you, surprised by the touch of your hand but also by the sorrow reflected in your eyes
“have you also lost somebody?”
you nod at his question
“my parents,” you hesitate before adding, “their ship got swept under a rogue wave, the same night it turned into a tidal wave that destroyed the city of light”
wooyoung looks at you with wide eyes, “the one along the north coast? six- no, seven years ago?”
there’s not a single person who doesn’t know about it; when an apocalyptic wave had wiped out an entire city overnight
he places his other hand over yours when you nod again, creating a sandwich of comforting hands in the shared experience of loss and grief
you smile wistfully and he returns it
“well now that we’ve exchanged childhood trauma, care to tell me the real reason why you were on my ship, stowaway?” you half-joke
wooyoung laughs, each breath a pronounced cackle of joy, and you find the corners of your lips pulling themselves upwards too
“i’m being chased by a lunatic who’s out for my blood,” he deadpans
“that would have been nice to know before i let you join my crew”
wooyoung grins wickedly, “i’m part of your crew?”
“i’m definitely rethinking it,” you banter before you add on seriously, “only if you want to be”
he pulls his hands back to salute you loudly, “it would be my honour to be your human compass! jung wooyoung at your crew’s service!”
“shut the fuck up!” you hiss in embarrassment, but there’s no bite to your words and you’re laughing into your own hands
you tip back the remains of your ale and then beckon to wooyoung, “let’s head back, shall we?”
“yeah,” he gives you a dazzling smile
he pushes his chair back to stand up and you head towards the doors together
just as you walk past one of the tables, a man abruptly stands up and knocks into wooyoung’s shoulder harshly
your hand flies out to steady him as the man stares at wooyoung, then turns to leave without another word
“what’s his problem,” you mutter angrily. “are you okay?”
wooyoung reassures you with a placating squeeze to your arm before leading you out of the alehouse
as you retrace your steps back to the ship, you pass by a rickety stall that makes you falter
the wood of the table is rotting and standing on its last legs and there’s a roughly thatched roof propped up above its goods
even though the stall is enshrouded by the shadows of the clouded moonlight, you still wonder how you missed it on your way to the alehouse, considering it’s the only stall along the empty street, and with a vendor, no less
there’s an old woman bearing the burdens of living across her skin and in her posture, sitting hunched on an equally as weathered crate beside the table
you’re drawn towards it - by its ambience, seller or the familiar instruments lain on the table, you don’t know
the woman’s head is covered by a dusty shawl but you don’t miss the way her eyes bore beadily into wooyoung as you both approach
you reach out and skim your fingertips across the cool brass of the compasses on the table
a frown adorns your face when you notice there’s something strange about all of them
like the compass in your own pocket and the one mounted on your ship’s helm, the needles all swing indecisively over the north point, as if some unknown force is meddling with the magnetic field of the earth itself
you let out a little scoff of disbelief, “they’re all useless”
with a final glance at the table, you and wooyoung start to walk off
but then a raspy voice beckons at your backs, a ghost of a hand that tickles the hair on the nape of your necks, “the only time a compass is useless is when you have something better nearby”
unable to ignore the sensation, you look over your shoulder, “what do you mean by something better?”
a toothless smile; one that appears to know a secret that it doesn’t want to let you in on
“true north”
her cryptic answer alone is enough to tell you that you’re wasting your time
she doesn’t say anything else when you walk off for good this time after bidding her a tight-smiled farewell, not that you would have stopped either way if she did
wooyoung hurries to catch up to you
as he falls into step with you, he asks, “do you believe what she’s saying?”
“of course not, it doesn’t make any sense,” you glance at the tavern you’re walking past, telling you that the port is close now. “how can you have true north?”
wooyoung’s brows knit together, “well, there’s that old legend that says true north isn’t actually a direction, but a-”
he’s cut off by an amused voice behind you both
“so it really is you…jung wooyoung”
when you turn around, you’re met with the sight of a man donning a long, velvet coat and buckled shoes - articles of clothing very obviously pirated from the wealthy
it’s evident that he and wooyoung are acquainted in one way or another, but from the way wooyoung’s face loses its colour, they’re acquainted in a bad way
immediately, your hackles are raised
the man’s tone is saccharine as he continues, “when one of my men said that they had spotted you, i didn’t believe him”
“what do you want?” you snarl at the same time wooyoung murmurs next to you, “it’s the lunatic. jang hyunsoo”
hyunsoo cocks his head as he stares you dead in the eye, “i want him. dead.”
your face darkens, unwilling to back down, “and why are you so intent on killing him?”
“oh?” he raises an eyebrow in delight at your answer. “you must not know who he truly is”
sick of his bullshit, you reach down towards your belt to unsheath a throwing dagger and hold it in front of your body, “i don’t care who the fuck he is. he’s my crew member and that’s all that ma-”
“he’s the man that the legends speak of. blessed by the sea gods, bearer of the oceans’ wisdom - jung wooyoung is true north”
those two words again
you don’t understand why everyone you come across today seems to be so fixated on the idea of…
suddenly, you remember.
legends tell a story of true north - not a direction pointing to the earth’s axis, but a person
a man blessed by the gods of the sea with the power to be all-knowing when it comes to the waters
he possesses the innate ability to navigate without use of any instruments or celestial bodies; the wisdom of which passageways and courses to sail; the subconscious understanding of mother nature and her elements
the powers are passed down through his bloodline for generations, but the blessing does not stay sacred for long
human greed and coveting eventually lead to the murder of the bearer of true north at the time, and the powers are transferred to the murderer, permanently staining the bloodline and commencing the paradoxical cycle of sinning for a blessing
however, this does not go unpunished
the gods of the sea are enraged and in their uncontainable wrath they cause-
your memory ends there no matter how hard you try to recall the rest of the legend
wooyoung interrupts
“if you kill me, there’s no guarantee you’ll survive the consequences,” he tries to reason with the other. “just have a look at how close we are to sea”
you’re lost but hyunsoo sneers, “it’s not your power that i’m hungry for. it’s only fair that i spill your blood, after your father spilled the blood of my family”
at the mention of his father, wooyoung growls, “what the fuck do you think you’re saying”
“how do you think your father became true north? or better yet, let me jog your memory,” hyunsoo’s expression becomes hauntingly blank, “what happened seven years ago that wiped out a whole city because the sea gods had been angered?”
your breath hitches as you involuntarily whisper, the remaining piece of the puzzle slotting into memory, “...a tidal wave”
“yes,” he acknowledges your words but keeps his eyes drilling into wooyoung, “because true north - my father - was killed”
as were your parents by extension of the consequences
“killed by my father,” wooyoung concludes, voice frail as everything rapidly starts to reveal itself
one more revelation makes him look at you with a face of horror and remorse, “y/n…your parents…”
without hesitation, you push aside your own anguish for him
“wooyoung,” you warn, “it’s not your fault”
because you see it
the very moment his eyes start clouding over as he willingly takes on the burden of guilt wrongfully left behind by his deceased father - the same guilt that eventually took the man’s own life
wooyoung, who, with a heart and soul too pure, would rather take the blame himself than to push it onto somebody else
you step in front of him, knife raised in protection
because despite your best efforts, wooyoung had not only secretly stowed himself away on your ship but has also secretly stowed himself away in your heart
“what are you doing?” he tries to tug you behind him
there’s a teasing lilt in your voice as you stand steadfast, “stowaway, you’ve ruined navigating for me now - made it too easy for me and the crew. so you better fuckin’ take responsibility and be my compass for as long as i sail”
“how touching,” hyunsoo coos patronisingly before he draws the cutlass from his sheath, “looks like i’ll just have to kill the both of you”
you don’t stop wooyoung this time from stepping up to stand by your side, his own hands armed with dual daggers and his demeanour now iron-willed to fight
because if you’re prepared to fight for him, then wooyoung is prepared to fight twice as hard for you
tonight, either hyunsoo dies, or you both go down trying
the tension in the air is punctuated only by the slight scrape of your soles as you and wooyoung lower your stances and shift further onto your front feet
you had never believed in the sea gods until now, but you pray that they’re watching over you both
and indeed they are
they answer your prayers in the form of a deafening gunshot in the nearby tavern
hyunsoo flinches at the sudden commotion - only slightly, but the distraction in attentiveness is more than enough
now.
as you and wooyoung leap forward together in unison, weapons raised, the needles in your hearts’ compasses waver for one final time before they settle and point resolutely in one direction
your needle at wooyoung; wooyoung’s needle at you
because compasses will always point at true north and that’s exactly what you are to him and him to you
each other’s true north
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jongho
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pov: you're a mermaid who saves him
you follow the shadow of the ship’s hull, gliding effortlessly through the waters
you know that you shouldn’t be following so closely but it’s hard to refuse the temptation that comes hand in hand with storms
there’s a chance that vessels will toss cargo overboard as a last-ditch effort to save their ship from sinking
and if you’re really lucky, the vessel might sink entirely and you’ll be able to spend the next few days rummaging its ruins, scavenging for shiny treasures and intriguing objects
besides, what’s the worst that could happen?
no sailor or pirate in their right mind would think to cast a fishing net in this weather
you only have your carelessness and recklessness to blame, but regret won’t change anything about your current situation
you feel the strange lurch in your stomach as the fishing net you’re trapped inside is pulled out of the water, up along the side of the ship’s hull, until it levels with the gunwale
there’s someone standing there waiting
his face is still rounded and limbs still gangly with the telltale signs of youth
the fish around you jerk around desperately, a physical manifestation of your terror, while you lock eyes with the young teenager and grip at the net with white-knuckled fists
you are at his complete mercy
he stares in shock at your form, until you beg a single word
“please”
immediately, he draws a small pocket knife and starts to frantically cut through the net
there’s another questioning voice from somewhere on the deck that you can’t make out the words to, but from the way the boy in front of you picks up speed, you’re seconds away from being discovered
“come on, come on, come on,” the boy mutters through gritted teeth
there’s a slight jerk as he cuts through the strands of flax and a few fish slither their way out, the hole starting to become bigger
he lets out a hiss of pain when he accidentally slices through his own hand in his haste
but even then, he does not stop or falter
and then you hear it
the ripping of the material when the weight of yourself and the other fish tear the remainder of the net
you plummet into the ocean
and the last thing you see before the world above becomes blurred by the waters is the boy’s wide eyes peering over the ship’s edge as he watches you fall
jongho struggles to adjust his centre of gravity as the ropes stutter underneath him
he chances letting go of the rigging briefly with one hand so that he can wipe the rain out of his eyes, which is pouring down incessantly and obscuring his vision
overhead, the top sail continues to billow and flap in an angry dance as the rapidly shifting winds tangle it further
he swallows thickly and grips the rigging once again
he needs to climb up and untangle the damned sail, fast
one hand extending outwards to grab the running rigging, jongho supports himself on shaky legs so that he can unfurl the twisted edges of the sail from around the ropes
it’s difficult enough having to chase the mocking flits of the canvas in the gale, but it’s fucking hellish with the added lurching and pitching of the ship as it’s battered by the swells of the sea
he finally manages to get a good grip on the sail and tugs hard, feeling it give way and flush full as it catches the wind properly now that it’s free
except the force of it sends the material swelling right in his face and he slips
by some saving grace, the combined movement of another colossal wave sends his body careening through the air in a wide arch
he does not land on the upper deck in a heap of broken bones
instead, he plummets into the ocean
and the last thing jongho sees before he loses consciousness is the shimmer and flick of a tail
your body reacts instantaneously to the sudden intrusion of something plunging into the waters in front of you, your tail swishing to increase your distance
for a brief second your heart seizes up in fright at the thought of a harpoon
but then you see it - see him
apart from the young teen who had freed you years ago, you have never seen a human up close before
and certainly not one in the ocean; in your home
there is something about the man before you that is beautiful yet haunting
it is as if time and gravity have warped his very existence
you see a weak flail of legs, a desperate hand reaching for the surface, floating tendrils of hair, but even in the face of approaching death, his movements appear slow and graceful in the water
as the pockets of air and bubbles of foam dissipate from around him and cruelly escape upwards without him, the man stills - grand and slow as his form steadily starts to make a descent towards the sandy bottom of the ocean
in folklore amongst your merpeople, humans are as swift, sure and savage on land as they are aboard their monstrous vessels
and yet, watching the ethereal existence of this man before you, you realise that once humans are underwater, they are at the complete mercy of mother nature and her beings
you gingerly swim closer
when you wrap your arm around the man’s limp body, his skin is warm under your fingertips
you’re reminded of the fact that he is at your complete mercy
and so you swim.
the moment jongho regains consciousness, his chest involuntarily contracts in an attempt to take a huge, stuttering breath
he curls onto his side instead, one hand scrabbling in the wet sand and his other arm crushed between the ground and his upper body as he hacks up his lungs with retching motions
the salt water burns even more coming back up than it did going down and his eyes sting with tears
when the convulsions cease, jongho closes his eyes and rests his forehead against the cool sand, trying to regain his breath-
and bearings
the jarring clarity has him sitting up abruptly as he tries to recall where he is and what he’s doing
there was the storm
the tangled sail
him climbing up the riggings
falling down, down, down
and then…
you
your eyes widen when the man’s unfocused gaze suddenly sweeps the waters and lands on the small part of your face that is exposed and peering at him
instinctively, you duck underwater, the notion of hiding your existence from humans ingrained into you
but even though he only sees a glimpse of you, jongho would recognise you from anywhere
it’s hard to forget when he’s kept his eyes peeled on the waters since that day, hoping to see you once again
he can’t believe that the mermaid he once saved would end up being his saviour
but he guesses that’s what people call fate - an alignment of miracles
he glances around at his surroundings to find himself in the safety of a small cove
you dare to emerge your curious eyes again when you see the form of the man stand up with his gaze on the sand, seemingly in search of something
he fumbles along the edge of the coast, reaching down several times to grasp things too small for you to discern
it seems that he becomes satisfied with what he has found, because he then sets them all down in the wet sand - right where the tide kisses the shore in a teasing game of chase - and takes several steps backwards so that he is no longer close to the waters
the man scratches the back of his head as he gestures vaguely to the pile, appearing to want to say something before thinking better of it and turning around to pick at the driftwood further inland
you wait, trying to gauge his actions
but when it becomes clear to you that he is not attempting to catch you off guard, you cautiously swim closer to shore
you are able to rest your forearms comfortably on the shoreline’s sand from how close you get
and then you see it
a small pile of glossy pebbles and patterned shells
a peace offering of pretty things he could find that he thought you might like
you duck under the water again, but this time to hide your shy smile as opposed to an act of instinctual self-preservation
jongho looks at the hefty pile of dried wood that he has gathered in the meantime, deeming it enough to keep a fire going for the inevitable night he will have to spend at the cove
he’s tried his hardest not to look out to the waters, wanting to gain your trust
but he can’t help it this time when his eyes are drawn to the little mound of his sincerity in the sand
…only to find it untouched, and you nowhere to be seen
he tries not to feel disappointed
after all, you have no reason to trust him
so he sets his mind on starting a fire before the sun sets completely instead, trying to ignore the growing dryness in his throat
when he finally nurses a spark into a flame an hour later, jongho almost misses it in his fatigued state
but it’s unmistakable when he walks closer
gone is his own pile of pebbles and shells
in its stead is a jumbled collection of broken combs, rusted locks and a glass bottle
a peace offering of peculiar things you had found that you thought he might need
jongho doesn’t know it, but as he bends down to carefully gather every gift and safekeep them closer to his fire, he is not the only one with a bashful smile on his face
you tell yourself it’s purely curiosity and displaced familiarity that makes you linger and return to the cove the very next morning
you’re well aware what the risks are if you fall in love with a human
how many stories have you heard of mermaids and mermen alike, falling for a human, only for their love to be unilateral or rejected?
their tails slowly lose their lustre as gradual paralysis takes over until they lose complete control
quite literally drowning within their own body, they eventually sink to the bottom of the ocean to perish with the decaying wreckages of sunken ships…
and the countless corpses of sailors, pirates and other unfortunate souls alike
it’s ironic
no matter how much folklore makes out humans and merpeople to be different, you all end up the same in the face of death; buried in the soil of the earth or buried in the sand of the ocean bottom
side by side
jongho stands in that very ocean right now, sleeves and pants rolled up to keep them as dry as possible as he crouches over with the water up to his thighs
he would try to fashion a fishing hook or harpoon of some sort, but with the possibility that you may be close by in the waters, he doesn’t want to risk using anything that could hurt you
so he resorts to using his bare hands
you’ve been watching from the safety of the water for well over half an hour now, curious and slightly endeared by his clumsy attempts to grab at something
you’re not sure what, but you can see the fish as they dart teasingly through his legs and from out of his reach
for beings that are supposedly apex predators, this human doesn’t seem intimidating at all
so, very cautiously, you swim up closer to him
jongho feels himself freezing at the sight of you approaching - not because he’s afraid of you, but because he’s afraid he’ll scare you away
he holds his breath as you hesitate and linger just out of his reach, then swim up and bump his leg playfully with your tail as you circle around him once
he’s reminded of a puppy wanting to sniff out somebody unfamiliar and his eyes follow your form with rounded fondness
“hi,” he breathes out softly, “i’m jongho”
your tail swishes with sudden movement, splashing him with water and he giggles
you can hear it clearly even from under water and your heart nearly stops
if this man - if jongho - was a siren, the sounds of his happiness would be his song of calling
you want to hear it again
jongho sucks in a breath when you dare to emerge from the water’s surface, presenting him with a fish held carefully between your lips and one more in each of your hands
he’s a little dumbfounded at how easily you managed to catch them as he gently takes the one from in between your teeth
the still-flailing fish in his hands is peppered with two tiny neat rows of puncture holes where you had carefully bitten into it
he finds it so fucking cute, especially when you continue to peer up at him with expectant eyes, wanting to know if it was the fish that he was trying to catch this whole time
he wants to thank you, and not just for the fish
so he fumbles through his words when he asks, “would you like to eat with me? unless…” he trails off, “unless you don’t eat fish because…”
are mermaids technically fish?
did he really just offer you the mermaid equivalent of human flesh to eat?
before jongho can panic and try to salvage the situation, you give him a shy smile and nod
jongho makes a fire as close to the shore as possible without the wood at risk of becoming wet
as he spears the fish onto sticks so that he can hold them over the flames, you gather the courage to slide out of the shallow waters so that you can lay on the damp sand closer to him
whilst you can for short periods, you rarely ever fully emerge out of the waters because you leave yourself vulnerable without the full mobility of your body
but jongho makes you feel safe enough to do so
and he must at least partially recognise the amount of trust you are placing in him because he looks at you in awe, the unveiled beauty of your tail now in full display
your scales are a kaleidoscope of cerulean, mauve and periwinkle, reflecting onto the sand below you in a magical dance with each of your slight movements
he notices that the gradient peters out into shades of salmon and coral the closer the scales are to your waist and he cannot tear his eyes away from you
jongho thinks to himself that you were created by the hands of the sea god, who then named the word beautiful after you
and even then, the word does not seem to do you justice
“why are you staring?”
your voice is simultaneously bashful and teasing, yet jongho is utterly mortified that your first words to him are ones exposing his smitten behaviour
his brain kickstarts in panic and he blurts out the first thing that comes to mind
“if your tail gets too close to fire, will you start smelling like grilled fish?”
for a split second, your expression contorts into one of pure horror, before the absurdity of his question breaks down the remainder of your reservations and you lose yourself in laughter
a pretty blush settles over the round of jongho’s cheeks and then he is also laughing with you
together, where the land and sea unite, the sounds of your shared happiness fill the air
his song of calling chimes melodiously in your heart even as you swim away for the night
but the dangerous thing about a siren’s song is that you don’t realise you’ve become captivated…
until it’s too late
you’re looking down at the object in your hands as you swim for the cove
it’s cream-coloured and smooth to touch, with several blunt tips extending from one side
you’ve always wondered what it is and so you decide to see if jongho will know
you don’t notice the large rock formation jutting out of the seabed until it’s almost right in front of you and at the last second, you flex your tail to manoeuvre yourself around it
except you must miscalculate your distance because you end up grazing yourself on the sharp edges of the rock
it doesn’t puncture your scales but it certainly catches you off guard - your organs and senses work in a way that ensures you never collide into anything so long as you are underwater
so then, why?
you look down and your heart drops
tentatively, you spin around once, eyes never leaving their focus
you realise it’s not a trick of the lighting or the water
your scales have started to lose their shimmer
jongho is beginning to think that you won’t show up today when you finally do, one of your treasures cradled in your hands and a smile on your face that doesn’t quite reach your eyes
(you weren’t going to show up, not after realising that you need to stop yourself from falling further in love with jongho if you want to live, but you decide to be selfish one last time and say goodbye, even if you’re the only one who knows it’s a goodbye)
“what’s that?” he gestures towards your hands with his chin as you slide your upper body out of the shallow waters, leaving your tail to be submerged when the waves come in
you uncurl your fingers with a shrug
“it’s a comb,” he answers his own question as he turns it over in his hand, “made out of animal bone, i think”
you look at him curiously as he sits down, unbothered about wetting his clothes, and you ask, “what’s a comb?”
jongho brings it up to his head and pretends to move it up and down
“you run it through your hair to untangle it”
he pauses as his eyes flicker to your hair then back to your face
“i can…show you how to use it…if you want?” he offers
just once, you’ll allow yourself to get close to him just this once
when you nod and sit up, jongho shifts himself so that he is behind you
you try not to shiver when you feel the heat of his chest enveloping your back as he reaches forward to gently gather the hair from around your face and neck
he steadies your head with one of his hands, the other bringing the teeth of the comb through the slight waves of your hair
his touch is soft and loving in the way he tries not to tug too hard when he encounters a knot
his fingertips skim against you intimately but with an innocence that betrays the fact that he has never brushed somebody’s hair before
you feel your shoulders relaxing into his touch and your eyes close, blissfully - and perhaps deliberately - ignorant to the fading radiance of your body
“are you feeling okay?” jongho’s voice sounds even more alluring when it’s right next to your ear and you can’t help but shudder this time. “you seem paler than usual”
he brings a hand down to your waist and turns you towards him so that he can see you better
you try to formulate an answer, “i…”
i think i’m in love with you
of course, you would never tell him that
but before you can tell him that you’re fine, you become distracted by the glimpse of something on his hand that’s still resting on your waist
a scar
“is that- how did you get this?”
you run your thumb lightly over the taut, white line that runs from his wrist to the knuckle of his index finger
as you’re suddenly reminded of the familiar memory of a teenager with rounded cheeks and gangly limbs, the man beside you with those very same eyes looks at you fondly
“i cut myself trying to free a mermaid from a fishing net”
your gaze is unfocused as you process the information
the effects of the shattering revelation are immediate and a terrifying numbness starts to creep up your tail
because what you didn’t know - what nobody in folklore knew - was that the effects of paralysis and onset of death are accelerated when you fall in love with someone again for the second time
years ago, your heart had been claimed by the young man who had freed you at his own expense
you had managed to survive the heartbreak due to the briefness of your encounter, your paralysis fading and tail regaining its beauty when you never saw him again
but the effects of your unilateral love have not vanished entirely as you and your merpeople have believed it to
they have simply lay dormant like a disease, waiting for the right time to resurface when your feelings are rekindled
and so now it snowballs and gains traction at a speed that cannot be stopped, racing to catch up on the numerous years that you have cheated death where you thought you did not love jongho
“why is your tail turning grey?” the voice of the man you love is pinched with muted panic
you never thought you would ever be afraid of your own tail; your own body
yet, when you look down to see the monochrome advancing up each layer of your scales, you are absolutely petrified
your tail is starting to look like a stone statue and you know it won’t be long until that’s exactly what you become - motionless and unmoving
“y/n! why is your tail grey?!” jongho repeats with a shout, in full blown panic due to your lack of response
you can’t- won’t die in front of him
your lower body is almost deadweight with immobility and you bite back tears as you’re forced to crawl pathetically towards the water with your arms
jongho scrabbles to his feet as he hovers next to you, hands wanting to help but not quite touching you because he’s not sure what’s happening and he doesn’t know what he can do for you and you look like you’re in pain but he doesn’t know why-
“don’t!” you bark out sharply
he freezes in shock
you’re frightened and angry and you want to yell at something, someone, but…
you could never yell at jongho
with a much softer, albeit shaky voice, you tell him, “don’t look for me”
and before you can hear the pained noise that escapes jongho’s lips, you drag yourself back into the water
except a few metres after you’ve submerge yourself, the unthinkable happens
you. cannot. breathe.
you’re drowning.
jongho doesn’t care if you’ll hate him forever, doesn’t care if this is the last time you’ll choose to see him, but he will not just stand and watch when it looks like you are leaving to die alone
his body moves with the decisions of his heart before his mind tells him otherwise
he dives into the water after you
the world distorts around him; a moment of weightlessness as the waters easily shift to accommodate his body; the bubbling sound of air pockets reverberating inside his very skull; the shock of cold that overrides every other bodily sense
jongho forces his eyes open with numerous blinks until he can see you
your form is eerily still, and yet, you remain bewitching
he kicks his legs desperately with one arm outstretched and as soon as you are within reach, he tugs you into his chest
you’re limp to touch, lips slack and parted as if the very essence of your soul is escaping through your mouth
jongho will not let you die
lungs starting to burn and heartbeat pounding in his ears, he presses his lips against yours
a kiss of life- 
he closes his eyes
-and love
but you don’t respond
jongho ignores his instincts even as his body screams to part from you and kick upwards for a breath
instead, he moves his jaws to kiss you even harder
and then he feels it
he almost sobs into you when your lips twitch weakly against his
with renewed vigour, you’re sealing your mouth around his bottom lip as you respond, capturing him in a real kiss
below your joined lips, your scales start to bloom with their full brilliance once again
your tail shimmers brighter than before, reflecting intricate patterns of fractals with each slight ripple of the water as you open your eyes to the sight of jongho’s face, beautifully swathed in the incandescence of the rainbow
you can move again
you flick your tail, jongho’s arms still firmly around your waist and you both burst upwards, breaking the water’s surface with spluttering breaths
he desperately treads you both backwards towards the shore even though you can easily hold your own now
“jongho, you-”
he takes one look at you before he cuts your words off and plunges himself back underwater, stunning you into stupor, until he re-emerges with another splutter
“your tail!” he yells with overwhelming relief, face still scrunched as he tries to sweep his fringe up and wipe the water from out of his eyes
“yeah…” voice muted as you process the fact that you’re still alive, “my tail…”
“fuck, you scared me”
jongho’s eyes are bloodshot as they stare into yours, and you know for a fact that they aren’t just red from the irritation of salt water
you bring up a hand to rest it on his chest, right where his heart still thumps rapidly under your touch, and you apologise with a small smile, “sorry…i scared me, too”
he huffs a little before looking at you earnestly
“don’t ever do that again”
the water is now shallow enough that jongho can stand, but it’s deep enough that you can still drift effortlessly
it’s the perfect harmony where land and sea unite; where a human and a mermaid interact
where you, the enchanter, and jongho, the enchanted, find a balance of love
“i won’t,” you promise
on land, humans tell a story of a mermaid who falls in love with a man
a mermaid who is ready to give up her voice in exchange for her happily ever after
but in the sea, merpeople tell a story of a man who falls in love with a mermaid
a man who is ready to give up his life in exchange for his happily ever after
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deepdarkdelights · 16 days ago
Text
Predator (Jungkook x Reader) Part II - Prey
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Pairing: Vampire Jungkook x Reader
Word Count: 5.2k
Series: Predator Universe
Warnings: 18+, Yandere, Vampire Jungkook, Obsession, Manipulation, Forced Relationships, Blood (So much of it), Fear (Copious amounts), Panic/Anxiety Attacks, Mind Games, Tormenting the MCs, Discussions about dead bodies, Jungkook and his unblinking stare, Self Injury (Non Mental Health Related), Forced Feeding, Isolation
I do not condone the acts displayed in this story nor do I believe any members of BTS would actually engage in this type of behavior. This is simply written for entertainment purposes and should not be taken as a reflection of my own values, opinions, or morals.
Preview: The worst part was that you never tried to run. Jungkook never tied you down to anything or bound your wrists or feet. He simply knew that you would never try. It would be idiotic for you to try and run, you knew he was a talented tracker - he would be able to find you within minutes of your escape. There was nowhere to run and nowhere to hide from him, he would always be able to find you.
A/N: I am alive! This was entirely inspired by an ask that was sent to me so the entire reason this exists is because of the wonderful anons who have asked be about what has happened since the end of Predator and who have asked to see what a more lucid Jungkook would look like. I haven't had this much fun writing in such a long time. I'm sorry it's so short, I hope you can forgive me 💜
READ PART I - PREDATOR
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_______
It was dark and quiet, the only sound being the steady, slow, drip of water hitting the dusty floorboards and the harsh chatter of your teeth as they clashed together. 
You were freezing, your body trembling despite your best attempts to collect yourself. It was no use, no matter what you did you were never able to warm up anymore. You knew it wasn’t all that cold outside, but that didn’t really matter. Despite the chills that wracked your body there was a fine sheen of sweat that coated your skin.
You were unsure as to how much time had really passed since you had found yourself here. All of the days had begun to blend together like some horrible fever dream you simply couldn’t wake up from. The only constant in your life has become him. 
If you didn’t know any better, you would think he was trying to kill you. 
What was truly likely, was that this was a side effect of his treatment of you. It was very likely that he just didn’t know how to take care of a human. And despite your incessant pleading, he had told you that he would not kill you. So really, it was his own ineptitude that had you knocking on death’s door.
Your skin felt grimey, not entirely from lack of hygiene, but from the film of blood that coated your skin. It was all over you but it mostly dominated your cheeks, lips, throat, chest, and fingers. He was not violent when he claimed his feeds, but he was not necessarily gentle either. You hadn’t looked in a mirror for quite some time, but you were certain no amount of vampire blood would be able to seal your wounds with how often they were readily reopened.
This wasn’t a life, it was a slow and painful trek to the afterlife.
Your trembling increased as the front porch creaked, he was already back. Your head lolled backwards and hit the wall behind you in defeat. You couldn’t do this again, you couldn’t give him another part of yourself - this time you were certain that it would kill you. 
Every time he fed from you, there was a horrible, delightful, exhilarating rush that followed. Whatever it was that he was doing to you, it was forcing you to enjoy the very thing that was killing you. It was perverse. It was disgusting. It was addicting.
It was hard to hate him in the throes of ecstasy, there was this horrible thrill that came the second before his fangs pierced his limb of choice as you knew you would be rewarded with bliss in the moments that followed. It was easier to hate him when he wasn’t there, his lack of presence giving your mind the briefest of reprieves to remind yourself of the horrible situation you were truly in. 
The distance, however, didn’t seem to allow him the same clarity. If anything, it made him grow more needy, more irritated, and more clingy.
The door creaked open, and your time to yourself disappeared. Your body shook tenfold as his presence filled the room. He still looked the same as he did the first time you had come face to face with him. His clothes were worse for wear, even more blood stained and shredded than they had been before. There was a permanent coppery scent that surrounded him, the dried blood being the prime suspect. 
You were certain that you didn’t smell that much better. Although, to a vampire, you probably would smell all that more enticing.
His gaze was immediately drawn to you, your eyes locking with one another, bridging the fifteen foot gap between you. His eyes often fluctuated in vibrancy depending on how hungry he was. The days where they were near black were the most difficult for you, but today they were a bright crimson red. He had fed on someone, someone who luckily wasn’t you.
“Hello little mouse,” He greeted, his voice low and surprisingly soft, devoid of the almost manic tone you had been familiar with for the longest time. 
He began to close the distance between the two of you, his gait smooth as he approached you. The way he moved was unnaturally perfect, the silent power of a predator imbued in every muscle of his body.
He wordlessly dropped a bag in your lap as he sank down to the ground beside you, his wide, red, unblinking eyes staring at you, waiting for you to make a move. No matter how much time you have spent with him, his stare was still unnerving.
It took you longer than it should have to open it, your fingers trembling beyond your control. But Jungkook was patient, he has all of the time in the world to wait.
The scent of food hit your nose, your mouth watering and your stomach growling eagerly in response. From the color of his eyes and what he had brought you, you assumed he had decided to have his fill of a hiker instead of you. 
Jungkook didn’t know how to take care of a human, that much was obvious. He had, however, been keenly aware of how much blood he was draining from your body on a daily basis. You had become so weak, anything but sitting felt like a herculean task nowadays. And the lack of consistent meals was weighing heavy on your body.
You didn’t care that he was watching you eat, your mannerisms ravenous and most likely off putting. But you no longer complained when he took his fill of you, and for some reason he remained silent and returned that courtesy. 
You had noticed a shift in his behavior when that other vampire had found the two of you not that long ago. He knew Jungkook, from the way they spoke it appeared he knew him very well. This other vampire, despite how he appeared more human than Jungkook, frightened you just as much. You could tell from the curl of his smile to his confident gait that he was just as bad, if not worse, as Jungkook.
You had nearly fainted on the spot when he suggested the two of them share you, you were already tapped out as it was, Jungkook had fed on you that morning. The two of them, together, would kill you for sure.
To your surprise, Jungkook had not responded enthusiastically. He responded like an animal defending its territory - baring his fangs and growling in just barely contained rage. And that reaction had set off the other vampire and before you knew it they were a blur of limbs.
They moved so fast your human eyes could barely keep up with them. You were only able to focus when one of them threw the other giving you just enough time to watch them separate before they came back together again. The sound their bodies made when they clashed together was like thunder from what you could only assume was the pure force and strength they possessed. And, much like animals, they ripped and tore into one another with their teeth and nails.
By the time the two of them had finally separated for good, it was because of how much they had injured one another. The both of them were covered in wounds oozing black blood, some of which was their own, and some belonging to the other.
The other vampire, whom you had briefly heard Jungkook address as Hoseok, was tired but still enraged.
“Are you fucking serious? All of this for what, a pathetic little human?!” He yelled, his nostrils flaring in anger. “It’s food, Jungkook! I’m your brother!”
Your body flinched out of habit at the snarl that left Jungkook.
“With the rate that you’re going you’ll kill her anyways! Why does it even matter?!”
“She’s my human,” Jungkook replied, his voice low with warning.
“This isn’t even supposed to be about her! She’s nothing! Namjoon sent me to come and find you but you know what, I think I’ll let you deal with the consequences of your actions. It’s only a matter of time before he comes for you and when that happens, you're on your own!”
He disappeared quickly after that, it was like he was there one moment and then vanished the next. Once he was gone, Jungkook’s once sturdy stance softened, his shoulders bending forward from the strain of his own weight. He was hurt, badly.
He slowly turned to look at you, the red of his eyes and his dark mop of hair just visible over the curve of his shoulder. You knew that look, it usually didn’t end well for you. 
“No, no, no, Jungkook, please!” You whimpered, scrambling backwards.
But it was no use, he never listened to you anyways. He always took what he wanted, even when you had nothing left to give. 
He stumbled when he moved but he quickly regained his footing, his black blood stained hands grabbing you by the shins and pulling your retreating form towards him. You fought as hard as you could but you were already weak to begin with.
“Stop it, please!” You begged, but he didn’t listen. He wrapped his arms around you, his grip too tight and utterly uncomfortable. 
“Jungkook-”
“Shut up,” He grunted before yanking your head roughly to the side and sinking his teeth back into the scarred skin of your neck. The shriek that left you was borderline inhuman, the building scar tissue made the intrusion all the more painful and Jungkook was not gentle.
And he had already taken so much blood the day before. It wasn’t long before your eyes rolled to the back of your head and you went limp in his iron hold.
That was the first time that Jungkook had given you vampire blood. You had almost died that day, you had gotten so close to finally being free of him and still he wouldn’t let you go. Even death wasn’t a great enough adversary for him. 
When you had woken up after that attack, shocked that you managed to survive, you were met with those big, red, frightening eyes. The look on his face was the most serious you had ever seen it before, an odd clarity in his eyes that you were seeing for the first time.
He had been dreadfully quiet since then, speaking even less and shorter sentences than he normally did. You wouldn’t say he felt bad for what he did, but he had become increasingly aware of the inherent fragility that came with being human. He never apologized, but he had fed from you a lot less after that.
You froze mid bite as you felt his icy fingers graze your flesh, the coolness biting your skin and seeping into your veins. His touch was feather light, just barely there, but you went still beneath it anyways. You were incredibly aware of the strength that was concealed in that touch. He appeared unbothered by your response, his thumb smoothing over the curve of your jaw as he leaned in unbearably close.
You flinched at the feeling of cold metal being draped around your throat, his fingers clasping the material at the nape of your neck. It was a necklace. Your chest felt tighter, the food in your stomach quickly souring. 
He was doing it again. 
You were well aware of Jungkook’s strange and disturbing habit of taking mementos from his victims. His ears, wrists, neck, and practically every inch of his body were adorned with items he had stolen. You noticed he had an affinity for jewelry, but his jacket and boots had been taken from someone’s corpse as well. And, recently, he started bringing them back for you as well. 
Your bloody fingers were littered with several rings, a bracelet on your right wrist, and your ears decorated in earrings - some of which he had pierced himself. And now, the necklace.
It left your stomach in knots when he did this, you couldn’t help but think about the bodies abandoned in the woods that he had slaughtered every time the metal glinted back at you. Each piece felt like another shackle keeping you at his side. 
The worst part was that you never tried to run. Jungkook never tied you down to anything or bound your wrists or feet. He simply knew that you would never try. It would be idiotic for you to try and run, you knew he was a talented tracker - he would be able to find you within minutes of your escape. There was nowhere to run and nowhere to hide from him, he would always be able to find you.
And so, you had become his plaything. His dinner and now his doll, a weak body that he could play with and decorate to his greatest desires whether that be with a corpse's jewelry, or a litany of scars.
“Pretty,” He said, his voice deceptively soft as he grazed the skin of your neck, his fingers moving from the clasp of the necklace to trace over the scarred imprints of his fangs and teeth.
You were thankful that he wasn’t hungry.
The odd, calm atmosphere between the two of you was quickly dissipating. Jungkook shifted away, agitation clear on his face as an annoyed growl parted his lips. You flinched back against the wall, scooting away to stay out of his path. 
This wasn’t unusual - he had been having rapid mood swings lately.
The few moments of peace the two of you would share were often interrupted by the sudden pained twist of his features - his eyebrows drawing together and his nose scrunching in a snarl. It almost looked like he was in physical pain despite there being no signs of any injury.
And then, the pacing would start. It was like watching a caged lion sweep the perimeter of their enclosure. Back and forth, slow and menacing steps. It was like he was looking for something, or trying to guard the two of you from someone else. You hadn’t dared to ask what he was doing, to be entirely honest you tried your best to avoid initiating any interaction or conversation with him at all. The few times you did speak to him, it was usually to beg for him to leave you alone, pleas that often fell on deaf ears. 
You didn’t know what to do with this. When you first “met” him, he had been sadistic, like a zealous child with more power than they knew what to do with. He had wanted to play his sick and twisted games with you and the plan had always been to gorge himself on your blood and leave your mangled corpse deep in the forest to wither and return to the earth. That was what was familiar to you, that was what you were expecting. 
You were never supposed to live, that had been an unfortunate circumstance, a split decision he made to prolong your torture and pain. You didn’t know what you were supposed to do with this suddenly quiet, confused, and barely human creature in front of you. One that would rip open your flesh to feed just as soon as he would leave bruising kisses on your lips and throat, painting the flesh a rich red that was left to rust.
You were waiting for him to snap, waiting for it to all finally be over. But that would be luck, luck that you didn’t have. He had promised you, so long ago, that you would never be alone again, that he would keep you. And you have suffered the consequences ever since.
When he said your name you felt your blood freeze over. He had never said your name before, you didn’t even know that he knew it. He had always called you that horrific pet name, his little mouse.
You wrapped your arms around your legs, pulling them into your chest in an attempt to feel some sense of security as he continued to speak. 
“We’re leaving soon.” He said, the words simple but the expression on his face ever so complex. Reluctance, frustration, pain, anxiety.  
You swallowed, but did not move. The silence was deafening. But, by the look on his face, you knew that he was waiting for your response. You would have to break the stalemate. 
“Are you…taking me home?” You dared to ask, your heart thundering in your chest as that predatory gleam returned to those red eyes. 
“No,” He growled, his jaw clenched as his fangs ground against his lower set of teeth, “You’re not going back there, ever.”
Your heart shattered. 
“I’m being called back to my home.”
His home? This was the first that you were hearing of it, you never stopped to ask yourself if he had a home. You couldn’t picture it even if you tried, it was a puzzle piece that simply didn’t fit. You had always assumed he was simply a nomadic creature that moved as he hunted. And, due to his supernatural nature, it seemed that he never needed the typical human necessities and comforts such as four walls and a roof. 
You knew he had some sort of family at the very least. You had, after all, had the displeasure of meeting Hoseok who had referred to himself as his brother. And he had mentioned the name Namjoon, the phrasing suggesting a hierarchical structure. But even the notion that he had a family felt just as mismatched. And how ironic it was that he was returning home to a family he didn’t even want, and he wouldn’t let you go home to the family that you missed so much. 
“And that’s bad?” You hesitantly asked, flinching as he growled in frustration. 
“It’s worse than bad!” He yelled, his hands sliding through his hair in stress, “It was difficult enough fending Hoseok off, but all six of them? You’re as good as dead.”
Hope.
“Then…don’t go?” You said, although it sounded more like a question. By the way he was acting, it was like returning was not a choice. 
“If only it were that easy,” He laughed, the sound bordering on being unhinged. “I can’t ignore it, if I’m called I have to answer. If I don’t it becomes more and more persistent. It feels like a cord that grows tighter and tighter until it pulls and my body moves on its own and takes me back.”
That explained the pacing, the restlessness his body had been experiencing. He had been trying to redirect it by walking the perimeter of the decrepit cottage but it had been a temporary fix to the problem. You could only assume that he was getting to the point now where his body was ready to return against his will. 
How horrible it was, to be someone’s unwilling puppet. You knew that feeling all too well. 
You didn’t know what you were supposed to tell him. There were no choices to be made by the two of you. He would have to return, and he wouldn’t leave you here on your own as he knew you would be given the greatest opportunity you have ever had to leave him. So, he would have to take you with him right into the lion’s den where you would undoubtedly be consumed.
He was mumbling to himself now, his pacing becoming more frantic and much faster, your human eyes struggling to keep track of him. You were sure that he was moving so fast he would wear down the old floorboards beneath him and the soles of his beat up boots.
You could only assume that meant the call was becoming even stronger. Before - it was asking, now it was commanding.
You had never seen him so frantic before, those wide blood red eyes unblinking and shifting back and forth faster and faster as his thoughts raced. It was borderline demonic, like something you would see during a paranormal movie or an exorcism. It was terrifying. 
You began to scoot back as far away as you could until your spine was flush with the wall behind you. You felt better with some part of you concealed from the open, but that did little to calm your racing heart and the creature that raged in front of you.
What was he so afraid of, so panicked by? You couldn’t imagine anything scaring him, not with how terrifying he was on his own. What could be so bad, so scary, that it frightened a monster? You weren't sure you wanted to find out, even if it meant you could finally feel the sweet embrace of death and escape him once and for all. 
Jungkook finally came to a stop, his body still but his eyes continued to move erratically. And then they too settled, and a look of deadly calm settled over them. He had decided something, and you were certain that whatever his decision was it wouldn’t be good for you. 
“They wouldn’t,” You heard him mutter to himself, “Not if I put a fail safe if place.”
A fail safe?
Before you could even blink he had moved across the room, faster than your eyes could track. Your body had been ripped away from the wall and set in between his legs, your spine pressed against his chest, the both of you seated on the ground.
An uncontrollable wail shook your body, the sound emanating a feeling of pure hopelessness. You had been surprised it came out of you, but you knew why. You were terrified he was going to feed from you again. 
His one arm was wrapped around your ribs, his legs tensed and forcing your own to squeeze together. He had immobilized you, there was nowhere else you could go and no way to escape him. 
Your entire body shook and heaved with hysterical breaths as you writhed in his grip. “Please, please don’t do it again I can’t take anymore of this!”
He hushed you, his free hand brushing over your hair in a surprisingly gentle manner. It was more like someone who was trying to calm a startled stray animal than anything else. His touch moved to your chin, lightly taking hold of the point where your neck and jaw bone met.
He didn’t say anything, instead he forced you to look at him, turning your face so that he could look directly into your eyes. And then, to your shock and horror, he plunged his fangs into his own wrist and ripped the flesh wide open. A torrent of thick, viscous, black blood rolled down the pale flesh of his forearm. And before you could do or say anything he grabbed you by your hair and jerked your head back before pressing his open wound to your mouth. 
You gagged at the smell and taste, tears blurring your vision as you tried to move your head away but he did not budge. His arm around your ribs finally moved but only to help him pry your jaw open and force the blood flow down your throat. He continued to hush you as he forced you to drink, gently rocking your body in stark contrast to the harsh and violent hold he had you in. 
“Just relax,” He whispered against the shell of your ear, “The more you struggle, the longer I’ll keep you here. We need to get as much of my blood as possible into your system.”
You were crying even harder now, the salt of your tears slipping between his wrist and your lips and mingling with his blood in your mouth. What had you ever done to deserve this? What horrible thing had you done in some past life to deserve this kind of punishment?
You just wanted to go home. You wanted your mom and dad, your grandparents, and the gentle comfort of your bed in your childhood room. You wanted that life back, and you were never going to have it again. 
His harsh grip on your jaw loosened as you went limp in his arms, resigning yourself to your inescapable fate. His hand returned to those soothing strokes against your hair, a low hum in his chest vibrating against your back as he watched you feed from him with a curious gaze. You were such a weak little thing, you needed him more than you would ever understand. 
You hiccupped pathetically when he finally removed his wrist from your mouth after what felt like hours. Your lips and chin were stained black from the blood he spilled when you had struggled. He stared at you again, curiosity evident in his gaze, as he leaned forward and licked the flesh of your lips, tasting his own blood.
You shivered as he made a soft hum, cocking his head to the side before doing it once more, stroking over the bitten and chapped skin with his tongue as he transitioned into kissing your battered lips in a grotesque act of intimacy. He laughed against your mouth as you weakly pushed against his chest, he was amused by your pathetic attempts to push him away. It only encouraged him to kiss you harder and deeper, sampling the taste of his own blood straight from your mouth. 
Once he was satisfied he finally allowed you to breathe, a devious gleam in his eyes that you had not seen in a long time. 
“They won’t be able to kill you for a while now, not unless they want another vampire to worry about.” He said. He was gloating, reveling in the win his family had no idea he had already achieved.
Your blood ran cold, your body freezing at his revelation. The very thing you craved, your own death and by association freedom from him, would be the very thing that would trap you with him for the rest of eternity. If you were killed with his blood in your system, you would become one of them. He truly had taken everything from you, even the dignity of your own death. Your life was his and his alone.
He really was a monster.
His features suddenly twisted in pain, his head jerking to the side as he released a low and threatening growl. The call was becoming even stronger, the most intense it had ever been. There was no more delaying it. They had to go, and they had to right now. 
He quickly lifted you into his arms as his body began to move on its own, forcing him to begin to move in the direction of his home. There was nothing more that you could do, all you could do was remain limp in his arms. It was over, there was point in fighting anymore.
He had finally broken you. 
When he stepped outside you were shocked by the fresh air and the cold weather. Then again, you always feel cold now. The clouds were thick today, the sun hidden behind their cover. It had been so long since you were outside, and even longer since you had been in the sun - that wouldn’t change in the near future. But what truly shocked you, was that the world went on without you. The seasons continued to change, the flora continued to flourish and then decay. The cycles continued while you were stored away. How cruel the world was to keep going on as you withered away. 
You leaned your head against his shoulder, shielding your face from the harsh wind as he began to move faster, running at his impossibly fast pace that no human could ever wish to match. How had so much changed? When did you go from human being to a play thing for a monster like him. You had a life, but now it had become inconsequential, toyed with and thrown away like it never even mattered.
What were you supposed to do now? At the end of the day, it didn’t really matter. He had won, he had played his sadistic stupid games with you, and he had won. He had broken you. You tucked your chin into your chest and like the pathetic creature that you were you whimpered.
You cared about what was going to happen next. If Jungkook had been wrong, then the two of you walking into the proverbial lion's den would end with you turning into one of them, a fate worse than any other that you could imagine. To be tied to him for all of eternity would be your personal hell on earth. 
What would they do to you when you got there? Would your death before your next life be slow and torturous, or quick and merciful? Would it be planned and intentional, or accidental? 
Jungkook began to slow, his fast pace relaxing into a natural walk. The tension that previously rested in his body had begun to dissipate. You could only speculate this was the relief of obeying the command to return home. His control over his own body was slowly but surely coming back to him the closer the two of you came to his home.
He stopped for a moment, placing you down on your own two feet before he took hold of your wrist and forced you to follow after him. Your knees wobbled beneath your weight, unaccustomed to you standing after being curled up in a ball in that abandoned shack for the longest time. You looked more like a baby fawn learning to walk than you did that meek little mouse Jungkook always thought you were. He, however, paid little attention to you at that moment. He was tense, his body in a state of alert as subtly surveyed the area as you continued on. 
He could sense something that your dull human senses weren’t entirely picking up on. However, the hair on the back of your neck prickled and your gut twisted as you felt phantom eyes digging into your body. 
Someone, somewhere, was watching you. 
A building began to break through the cluster of trees. A modern, contemporary house in the middle of the forest was coming into view. This was the last place you thought of when Jungkook had mentioned his home. In all honesty, you would have been less surprised by a crypt and a row of coffins.
In front of the house, stood a man. His arms were crossed in front of his chest, his eyes that familiar shade of deep burgundy, the same shade the monster’s eyes were when he was hungry. This sent chills throughout your body, your entire being sensing the danger in the vampire that stood across from you. 
Those burgundy eyes swept towards you, a look of shock and confusion discoloring their once calm gaze that you speculated was rarely rattled. His features twisted as he took in the state of you, the dried human and vampire blood that coated your body in thick layers, the dirt that was caked into your clothing, your hair that needed to be washed, and the smattering of scars that decorated your body and glistened in the cloudy daylight. 
You were barely human anymore, you were a walking corpse.
“You called me home, Namjoon.” Jungkook simply said, his body moving to shield you from the other vampire's gaze.
“Jungkook,” Namjoon said, utter disbelief tinging his words, “What are you doing to her?” 
In every possible scenario you had conjured in your mind, this had not been one of them.
Sympathy.
_______
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gallusrostromegalus · 5 months ago
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I like the concept of American hybrid yokai, like a tanuki-raccoon or kit fox-kitsune or pine marten-kamitachi mix. As someone more familiar with east coast wildlife do you have any suggestions for “weird little beasts that torment the neighborhood at night”
So there is an actual running joke in the later part of AIEWAM that a Tanuki and a Raccoon are very much not the same thing (Tanuki are extremely closely related to foxes), and while one is a fun-loving guy with a penchant for alcohol and testicular humor, the other one is a sleeby shithead who will rob you at knife-point.
I am more familiar with western us animals bc I'm from CA and CO, but I have a broad idea of what lives back east. IDK enough about Japanese mythological critters to be able to match up things exactly, but I'd be stunned if there were not:
Hybrid animals like woppeltingers and jackalopes. Or messed up hares in general.
Pretty sure some Bakaneko lore maps directly onto cougar behavior
Tsukinoko REAL and it's a fat old diamondback rattler.
Does Japan have messed up horses? Everyone has a messed up horses. We should start a breeding program for The Worst Possible Horse. We can start with the Mustain't.
Kappa, but it's a beaver.
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just-some-random-blogger · 18 days ago
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Sweets & Sweeties
You opened a bakeshop called Sweets & Sweeties which was just beside Weasleys' Wizard Wheezes, and one day you accidentally lock yourself outside.
George Weasley x Reader (x Fred Weasley) | 1k+ | cw: fem!reader, Murphy's law, fred lives stfu, fluff, rizzler!Georgie, typos, etc.
A/N: i have this fic called tormented spirit and its fucked me up cos of how sad it is HAHAHAH i need a break and thats coming from someone who LOVES angst. ALSO i was never super into Harry Potter so idk lore™ but I've been watching the phelps twins and their baking show related content and i'm just so endeared by them AHHHHHHHHH. please leave comments/reblogs because this feels a bit mid cos i havent written fluff in 100 years T_T cross posted on ao3 | continuation fic
@pendragora if i have to suffer, you have to suffer
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Weasleys' Wizard Wheezes was always busy. Everyday, there were children and children-at-heart going up and down the block, eager to buy themselves trinket or treat to promptly cause mischief.
Because of the shop's success, your own shop also benefitted from it. Sweets & Sweeties was your dream come true. As a child, you loved sweet treats, and you would grow to learn you loved making them just as much.
You hadn't expected to sell out as often as you did, and you knew it was all thanks to the fact the establishment next door brought as many customers as they did, who then became your customers.
You were extremely grateful, and tried time and time again to show it through a simple gesture of a gift. It was rather hard to find the time to do so however, as the neighbor establishment was constantly packed. The first time you saw the owner of Weasleys' Wizard Wheezes, he had introduced himself as: "George Weasley," he says, dusting off his hands before reaching one out for you.
You merely stare at him, your smile flattening slightly, only to grow wider as you chuckle. Both of your hands held a tray of cake, and it was quite a weighty cake at that, "I-"
"Right," he brushes his hands on his trousers, "right. Sorry, let me help you with that."
He takes the cake from you and ushers you deeper into the store. You gasp when a small child runs across him, unfortunately bumping into his side. Thankfully, George manages to lift the cake, evading the collision. The girl who bumped into him looks up, eyes wide, hands clutched, looking rather guilty, "s-sorry, Mr. Weasley."
The tall man's brows furrow as he looks down. He whines, "s'not Mr. Weasley, it's George."
The girl stares at him for a moment.
"Say it with me: George."
She clutches her chest and mutters, "Georgie?"
George purses his lips together in a soft smile and nods, "Georgie it is then."
Your hand comes to your mouth as you chuckle and follow after the red haired man. He leads you into the back office and you gasp yet again, this time, because of the photograph on the wall. It was a family portrait of a myriad of other red heads breaking into a wide grin.
"There's two of you!" you point.
George sets the cake down on his desk and crosses his arms once he's besides you, "nah. There's only one person in the family as good looking as me," he turns to the photograph, "that's my twin brother, Fred."
"Oh," you turn to him, taken off guard by how close he was, "is..." you casually take a step back, "he around?"
"Yeah," he shrugs, "probably showing the customers how to use the thingamabobs."
You chuckle and nod, "well," you motion vaguely, "I know you're very busy, so I won't take any more of your time."
The man tilts his head, lips curled into an soft grin as he shrugs, "you don't hear me complaining, love."
You aimlessly look off to steel away the giggle that threatened to leave your lips, "right," you clear your throat, "ehhh, do tell me if the cake is to you—"
Before you can even finish your thought, George is back at his desk. He swipes a dollop of frosting and tastes it.
"—r... liking."
He raises his brows as he nods, "it's to my liking."
The both of you just stand there for a moment, staring at each other. You're now rather painfully aware of your breathing.
You start when the office door bangs open and a near exact replica of George comes walking in, "you would not believe what just—"
George's eyes are on you as you turn to his twin. You raise your hand, "hi... I'm-" you point to nowhere, "-the baker next door."
He turns to George, then back to you, reaching out his left hand, "Fred Weasley."
You smile and shake his hand, speaking your name in return.
"Hey!" George walks over, reaching out a hand, "I didn't get a handshake!"
You turn to George and his outstretched left hand, about to shake it, but Fred does not release you, and only turns to his twin.
"Fred-"
"I'm not done."
George watches Fred shake your hand, "well that's more than enough."
"Not really," Fred shrugs.
You chuckle softly, making them turn to you. You then offer your other hand to George, crossing your arm over the other, "here."
George looks at it and takes it with his right one. The three of your shake each other's hands for a questionably long time.
When you're finally released, you hold back a laugh and rub your palms on the side of your hips, "right... it was a pleasure to meet you both."
They nod in sync, "the pleasure is ours."
You giggle and raise a hand in regard, "come by my shop sometimes."
They wave back at you as you head for the door.
"I'll make you both a cuppa."
They smile as you exit their office. Once you were gone, the brothers instantly turn to each other.
Fred says, "she's cute."
"Yeah, I saw her first," George counters.
"Pfft, so what?"
"So, everything."
Meeting them was so... notable, that you thought about it the entire day. You found yourself giggling about the handshake for the nth time as you closed up, and right after you heard the door click, you whip your head back in realization that you'd left your bag in the counter, along with your keys.
You shake the doorknob, trying to will the door open, though you knew it was pointless, "no, no, no, NO!"
You step back and stare at the windows of your shop. You ruffle your hair and huff as you debate how bad the idea of breaking the glass with the rock would be.
You stare that your sign that read Sweets & Sweeties, feeling taunted by it so suddenly, and then you remember you forgot another thing. The window on the rooftop was surely open from when you opened it to let out some steam. What's more, it looked like it was about to rain!
"Oh," you groan and wrap your arms around yourself, "thank goodness I left my brolly too."
You crouch in front of your unlit shop, feeling rather helpless.
You hear a bell ring and turn to the shop next door. Out comes George and Fred, much wiser than you, with their brollies and suitcases in hand. They call your name in unison and you sigh as you come to stand.
"What's wrong, sweetie?" one of them says.
You freeze at the pet name, and he seems to catch on. He points upward, "sweetie."
You turn to your sign and feel bashful. You awkwardly chuckle, "right, I-"
"You alright?" another asks.
You look between them, "yeah," and shake your head, "no, ehhh, sorry... I... which is," you point in confusion, "which?"
"George," the one to your right raises a hand.
"Fred," the one to your left raises a hand.
"Right," you lower your head as you shake it, "sorry, I don't-"
"You'll get used to it," they say in unison.
You huff as you look back at them, both of their lips are pursed, "right..." you turn to your shop and point, "I, eh... locked myself out."
They turn to where you did.
"And I left my bag..."
They turn back to you.
"And my keys."
They make a face.
"And my brolly," you turn to you feet for a moment, "and the window in my roof open."
"Oooh," they say at once. George bares his teeth, "bad luck."
"And," Fred adds, looking up, "it looks like it's about to rain."
"I know!" you gasp, placing your hands on both sides of your head.
For a moment, the three of you stand there, soaking in your misfortune. A moment later, George turns to his brother and says, "hang on."
Fred turns to him.
"Don't we have a window in the roof, Fred?"
Fred turns to you, "that we do, George."
George turns to you too, "how are you with heights?"
"Ehhh..." your lips part, "....fine?"
With that, the twins head to the entrance of Weasleys' Wizard Wheezes, beckoning you over. They reopen the lights, leave their things by the door, and lead you upstairs.
"Now," George (you think) says, "I'd like to think our roof's pretty sturdy, but," he pulls out wand from his coat jacket, "I can always do a good ol' Levioso if anything goes awry."
You are comforted by the thought and nod as you make your way up. When you get to the top, you see a singular tiny window by the side of the roof and you momentarily wonder if this was a good idea.
"D'ya know what," George (you think) says, turning to his brother, "you should go down and watch her as she crosses, so in case anything happens," he points, "you can make sure she doesn't fall."
Fred (you think) shakes his head, "why me?"
"Because it was my idea to cast Levioso, Fred," George (you were right) retorts.
"Then you go down!" Fred whines.
"I'm not going down," he crosses his arms, "I just got here."
"Yeah, so did I—"
"SCISSORS, PAPER, ROCK!"
You watch to the instant match the twins have, finding one rock and scissors at hand. George grins, raising his winning fist. Fred rolls his eyes and sighs. He turns to you before going down.
George smiles and motions with his head, "come on then, I'll help you up."
He drags a box towards the window and reaches a hand out to you. You take his hand and step up, then reach for the sides of the window, pulling yourself up to get on the roof. You are glad their window was right in front of yours and that it wasn't a far walk at all.
Fred, who just got outside, catches his breath before cupping the sides of his mouth, "careful!"
You turn to him from below and call back, "trying!"
George watches you closely as you cross to the other side. He probably shouldn't think the wobble of your limbs endearing, but he does. The moment reach your window, he claps, "aye!"
You are quick to jump down, grunting as you do so. You turn around and smile at George who was already smiling back at you. He raises his hands, "you did it, sweetie!"
"I did, wheezing wizard!"
"Well," he tilts his head, "it's Wizard Wheezes but..." he shrugs, "you can just call me Georgie."
You raise your brows.
"I- I mean George."
You chuckle and purse your lips as you shake your head, "too late, Georgie."
"Now, hold on-"
"See you downstairs, Georgie!" you give a toothy grin as you close your window. You bite your lip and giggle to yourself for a moment, "cutie."
Georgie clenches his jaw as he stares the window. He sighs and kicks the box away before closing it, "damn."
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freyito · 1 year ago
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Can you do Smoke and Reptile, sfw, them burying their face in readers boobs, using them as a pillow and how they’d react to reader to reader doing it back to them? You could do somthing suggestive.
I'm curious also, besides Kenshi and Kuai Liang who else are you a fan of?
imma be honest anon, this is such a fire idea. when i was at this a7x concert me and my friend saw a guy with double ds. like. BODACIOUS bro. that was the first thing our eyes went to. he looked like jesus christ brother. he spoke like he had a message from the gods.
anyways. to answer your question. sentimentally i'm very attached to Kitana and Scorpion in general, i played Kitana when mk9 came out (i was 7, my dad let me play mk when i was SEVEN) and my dad played Scorpion and i always got my ass handed to me. but he worked a lot and playing mk9 was the only time we really got together when i was a kid. with mk1, we've been able to play a lot more together and it reminds me of those times, it's really fun. now i win about half the matches we play, but i just don't play Kitana anymore. i really do prefer Kenshi.
I am actually married to Johnny Cage and Kenshi, soooo Also, to be honest, the first characters to draw me into Mk1 were Smoke & Sub-Zero. Hadn't really been a big Sub-Zero fan beforehand, not of Bi-Han or Kuai Liang. So it was fun having that revelation. And Tomas is just super cute, I actually love that he's Czech. We're not the same, but hey, we're atleast both slavic. I dont know why, I just love finding Slavic characters cause more often then not I end up relating to them. Sorry for the monologue, anon. Here's your boob request :P
cw: gn reader cause everyone can have boobs brother, bonus character!, proofread
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"ɴɪᴄᴇ ᴘɪʟʟᴏᴡꜱ" || ᴛᴏᴍᴀꜱ & ꜱʏᴢᴏᴛʜ
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-Tomas Vrbada
Tomas loves nothing more at the end of the day than getting to bury his face in your chest. As long as you two are in private, he'll wiggle his way into you somehow.
Half the time you two have together, he's face down in your chest, it is a regular occurrence and will stay a regular occurrence.
Does he do anything other than that? No. He's planking. He's in love, man, you can't blame him.
So, when you find him laying on the bed that one fateful night, defenseless, you give him the same treatment. You climb onto the bed, and slink your way into his arms.
He reaches out for you absent-mindedly, running his hands through your hair. Then you strike. You plank right into HIS boobs. He hasn't even registered yet. But you understand why he does it to you. Even if you can't breathe, it's somehow euphoric.
Tomas pauses, looks down at you. And his face flushes. You can feel his body temperature rise. He doesn't know how to react, he's been caught in just an inconvenient situaton.
He doesn't complain, though. He's just flustered. Real flustered. He holds you close after he can find his composure, still unsure but grateful of your touch.
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-Syzoth
Syzoth almost always makes a dive for your chest when you two are cuddling. He'll be tangled up with you- quite literally, the man really enjoys being as close as possible- and still find a way to bury his head into your chest.
Doesn't matter how much you dodge out of it, he's going to wrap himself around you and find your chest somehow, someway.
But, he thinks he's free of this torment. He gets to lay his head in your chest, and run off freely. He does it when you two nap, when you cuddle, wherever, whenever.
You find him one night, after a long day and seize your chance. And your boyfriends boobies. Without a second chance you throw yourself at Syzoth, aiming directly for his chest.
You can see him realize in that moment what's happening. And you can see the exact look of 'awh fuck', almost as if in slow motion. And when you finally get to lay your head onto his sweet, sweet, pillows, he gives up right then and there.
Syzoth accepts the love, completely. He might act all pouty because you robbed him of his favorite thing to do, but secretly he loves it. You can almost hear him purr.
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-Bonus Points! Bi-Han
Bi-Han doesn't really find himself buried in your chest too often. Mainly because he feels like he's controlled for that. He's thought about it, but refuses to do it.
But let's be honest, how can you not shove your face in his tits? They're massive, H cups AT LEAST. So you stalk your boyfriend, until you can find a private moment between you two.
He doesn't know your game, but he does know you've been following him. He's not annoyed, he's simply confused as to why you won't directly approach him.
So, when you ambush him, he's only slightly prepared. You go straight for his boobs. And you land directly in between them. Silence washes over you two.
Bi-Han doesn't understand. Part of him doesn't want to. So he simply wraps his arms gently around your waist and pulls you closer. He kind of thinks you're in need of comfort.
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© freyito, 2023 | masterlist | queue | kofi DO NOT REPOST AS YOUR OWN OR USE FOR AI/AI CHATBOTS
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dead-inside-demiboy · 24 days ago
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While I have no hate towards the relatability that people with bipolar have with Gangle this episode, I would also like to point out some love to the idea of Gangle having BPD instead and some of my reasonings as a fellow borderline myself.
The main difference between bipolar and borderline mood swings is the amount of time they last. Bipolar typically lasts weeks to months. What we see with Gangle is way more similar to BPD where the mood swings last for a lot shorter of a time period, typically from several hours to several days.
Secondly, how said mood swings are triggered. Bipolar mood swings tend to be a case of adding up factors but the actual turning point is pretty random. BPD on the other hand is triggered by feelings of rejection. And when do we see Gangle's happy masks commonly falling off? When shes getting shit from the others!
Then, Gangle's manic episode. It was an amazing portrayal of a manic episode, and was scarily relatable to my own experience (with manic-like BPD mood swing symptoms) . I love how this episode shows how people don't give as much sympathy to those with mental illnesses when symptoms can no longer be romanticized or hidden away. I also think that this is especially prominent for those with cluster B personality disorders, where your mental illness is constantly demonized.
And then there are so many scenes and moments that Gangle had that are just...textbook BPD symptoms. Examples of these are:
the dissociation episodes, those are incredibly common with this disorder and they happen at the peak of mood swings too and they are INTENSE.
The constant masks. Gangle has a very interesting character symbol where no matter what, they are wearing a mask, for the sake of there isnt a real face. It is really relatable to the depersonalization that a lot of people with BPD experience where it feels like no matter what you do you are just putting on a new mask.
Not as bad as Ragatha, Gangle is a people pleaser, you see that whenever they get tormented, she never once defends herself
And finally, the fear that everyone hates you once your episode ends and the belief that you don't deserve any good friends or close relationships that leads you to self isolate and not reach out. (Fuck man props to Zooble I dream of a friend like that)
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thewertsearch · 5 months ago
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@relaxxattack asked: hi, maxx the troll romance guy again. ₊ ⊹ ☆ it’s finally my moment for me to bust out my big quadrant talk! as in, i had the time to sit down and write this. (and apologies in advance for subjecting you to this much nerdiness. hopefully, it’s at least somewhat illuminating, to make up for that). i’m not sure what your current opinions on troll romance are, but i wanted to discuss the idea that kismesissitude is inherently unhealthy / impossible to achieve by teenaged trolls. lots of people who read homestuck get very stuck on the idea that kismesissitude is a feeling of hatred. they run with their human assumptions of this word, imagining that a kismesissitude is an angry, horrible relationship of abuse and hurt. but, if you’ll bear with me, it’s actually shown throughout the comic that this is completely untrue. trolls do not use the word hate the same way that we do. in fact, this is pretty obvious, because they also continuously use the word “pity” in a completely different way than we do. each of these are actually more related to a completely different word: LOVE.
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you can see, in this initial conversation surrounding quadrants, that trolls consider hate and pity to actually come from the same exact place (though they consider that a negative thing). you can also see in that conversation that you need a good mix of both for any of the quadrants to work. karkat calls vriska out on supposedly “hating people too much” in a way that would “make her a bad kismesis”. this tells us almost immediately off the bat that A. even other trolls consider vriska and tavros’s relationship unbalanced and unhealthy! and B. each quadrant needs a proper mix of emotions for a proper relationship. a lot of people assume that kismeses are “supposed” to kill each other, mainly because of the fate of jack noir and the queen. this, too, is a misunderstanding. jack noir and the queen, like mom and dad who they are explicitly paralleling, are meant to be regarded as tragic. both couples end in tragedy, as expected for almost every “parental figure” in homestuck; this is unrelated to their kismesissitude.
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in fact, in this conversation eridan has with kanaya, it is stated that a kismesissitude that ends in deaths is an extremely rare, powerfully tragic romance that happens “once in ten thousand years”– and immediately after, it is stated that a kismesissitude that might become like this needs an auspistice. that’s right, trolls are so committed to healthy kismesissitudes that they have an entire system in place to stop them from becoming toxic. the vriska/kanaya/tavros auspisticism, while a failure on every conceivable level, was born out of the necessity that the other trolls considered vriska’s torment of tavros unhealthy. even among her fellow trolls, in a society that explicitly encouraged casteiesm and ableism, vriska’s treatment of tavros was still considered too toxic for a proper kismesissitude.
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vriska and eridan, who were in a kismesissitude before vriska became bored of eridan, were allies in their roleplaying games. much like the ancestors they were emulating, (who even supposedly “cherished” their own black relationship!); they explicitly traded and shared their rewards and goods with each other because of their romantic relationship with each other, and were said to work together in flarp well enough to be feared by others. of course, they also competed with each other to be the best– because they are rivals– but rivalry does not constitute toxticity. they called each other “allies” and “competitors”. not enemies. though perhaps being enemies would be an interesting kismesis slowburn; in the end, two kismesis should not kill each other. they are on the same team. how could they not be, when trolls believe in one troll who is literally destined to be their perfect rival, a life partner who they must have a long-term relationship with in order to properly meet the alternian drone rules? killing each other makes no feasible sense.
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as vriska and eridan talk about here, a rivalry between trolls is something fun for both of them. that is why they must hate each other “equally”-- they need to feel on equal footing, so that they can both have fun. that’s what a rivalry is for trolls. it’s fun! (fun fact: another definition of the word "rival" is "an equal"). (eridan’s pitch solicitation towards sollux is absolutely laughable in comparison. he throws meaningless, casteist insults, and sollux does not give a single fuck about him. as other trolls mention; this is very obviously fake. they are clearly not feeling anything mutual or respectful for each other. he merely is trying to goad feferi into an ashen retaliation with his shitty pitch advances, and it’s not even working.) and that brings me finally to john and karkat. i remember seeing confusion on this blog about the nature of karkat’s feelings– 'why is he helping john? doesn’t he ‘hate’ him? he must not REALLY feel pitch romance for him, and he’s just confused.' well you see, that’s the thing. the reason karkat’s first message to john was a love poem is because that is what kismesissitude is. it was karkat’s way of saying; “you’re special to me. i would like to bug you to see if you feel the same way.” it’s not as if strangely romantic healthy rivalries between teenagers are even an unheard of or new concept. they’re fairly common in television shows and anime; hell there’s even multiple tvtropes pages for them! it’s not impossible that two people in a story could have a healthy rivalry fun enough that they both end up missing it should it be gone. (looking at you, perry and doof.) it’s even more likely that teenagers, as vibrant and strange as their many emotions can be, could pull this off. of course, they make lots of mistakes. they’re young teenagers raised on the murder ableism planet. of course most of the shit they try to do is unhealthy. they make just as many earth-like mistakes with their hearts as they do with their spades. that doesn’t mean it’s impossible for them, or bad for them to try. especially since pairs like vriska and eridan seem to have even pulled it off! basically, what i’m saying is, they’re like sasuke and naruto (reference). let teenagers have hatecrushes! it’s cuter than you think! :P [if it isn’t obvious, this is all super lighthearted and silly. unfortunately it’s my brand to be the guy who’s REALLY passionate about troll romance. i sincerely hope this wasn’t too hard to read, and i’m really sorry about submitting such a long thing, but i couldn’t manage to cut it down any further 😭 have a great rest of your night/day!]
(Images added by me - partially for illustrative purposes, and partially because Tumblr tends to complain when a single block-quote is that large.)
Love love love this detailed breakdown. It outlines a blackrom framework which is a lot more nuanced than the infodump's original description of kismesissitude. There's a lot of really interesting stuff here, and I've actually been working on this response for the past week, while AFKing on my Minecraft server.
As you can imagine, I agree with many of the points raised here, and disagree with others. I think the best approach is to go through the essay point-by-point, and break down my thoughts.
lots of people who read homestuck get very stuck on the idea that kismesissitude is a feeling of hatred[...], imagining that a kismesissitude is an angry, horrible relationship of abuse and hurt. [...] it’s actually shown throughout the comic that this is completely untrue. trolls do not use the word hate the same way that we do. [...]
This one I just fully agree with. The Alternian concept of 'hate' isn't equivalent to ours, and they'll often use it in ways that are completely incompatible with our definition.
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When Karkat 'fell in hate' with John, his actual antagonism was very obviously performative. As you mentioned above, several parts of his original rant wouldn't look out of place in a love confession.
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Karkat doesn't just message John out of temporal obligation. There's a clear sense, even in their early conversations, that he's enjoying their interactions on some level. If his feelings here really are black romance - and there's no textual evidence that they're not - then this alone is enough to prove kismesissitude isn't true human hatred.
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The trolls also use 'hate' in the human sense, too, which muddies the waters a little. It's even highlighted as a problem in-comic, with trolls having to disambiguate their hatred in conversation in much the same way humans disambiguate between platonic and romantic love.
they also continuously use the word “pity” in a completely different way than we do. each of these are actually more related to a completely different word: LOVE. you can see, in this initial conversation surrounding quadrants, that trolls consider hate and pity to actually come from the same exact place (though they consider that a negative thing).
As for pity, I'm still not entirely sure what it means to trolls. Unlike hate, it's only been brought up once, by Karkat.
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His 'hate and pity' dichotomy isn't referenced anywhere else in the comic, and it's unclear whether he's describing an accepted fact of life, a sociological theory, or a trope from his beloved romcoms. I don't really have enough data to speculate.
you can also see in that conversation that you need a good mix of both for any of the quadrants to work. karkat calls vriska out on supposedly “hating people too much” in a way that would “make her a bad kismesis”. this tells us almost immediately off the bat that [...] each quadrant needs a proper mix of emotions for a proper relationship.
I believe your assertion here is that each quadrant requires both hate and pity. While definitely an interesting theory, I wasn't able to find canonical evidence that a healthy redrom requires hatred, or that a healthy blackrom requires pity.
I meant what I said, though - it is a compelling theory. If we do read troll 'hatred' as a type of friendly rivalry, then maybe it is important in redrom, serving as the 'spark' that keeps things fresh. Furthermore, if we read 'pity' as something bordering on affection, then it probably is necessary for a healthy blackrom.
I really like the space you're playing in, here. There is something to this idea, and I'd love for Karkat to elaborate on it.
[...] even other trolls consider vriska and tavros’s relationship unbalanced and unhealthy!
Text it! If the full Vriska/Tavros mess was public knowledge, basically everyone would consider Vriska's behavior beyond atrocious, blackrom or no blackrom. I'm not even sure if Eridan would be OK with it - and Gamzee, of course, is currently excluded from this discussion.
If the Veil's trolls are a representative sample of Alternian culture, then Vriska's 'blackrom' with Tavros is just as abusive there as it would have been on Earth. Even Alternia has limits.
a lot of people assume that kismeses are “supposed” to kill each other, mainly because of the fate of jack noir and the queen. this, too, is a misunderstanding. jack noir and the queen, like mom and dad who they are explicitly paralleling, are meant to be regarded as tragic. both couples end in tragedy, as expected for almost every “parental figure” in homestuck; this is unrelated to their kismesissitude. in fact, in this conversation eridan has with kanaya, it is stated that a kismesissitude that ends in deaths is an extremely rare, powerfully tragic romance that happens “once in ten thousand years”
This tracks, as well. If blackrom was allowed to end with murder, then there'd be a lot less soldiers being ferried off the planet every year. Alternian children are a resource to the Empire, and more murder-couples means less murder-platoons.
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Vriska does think it would be acceptable for her to murder Tavros, but she frames it as a consequence of classism, not blackrom. This would be much more acceptable to the Empire, as a blueblood like Vriska is destined to be a high-ranking officer. She's not killing a partner, here - she's punishing insubordination.
– and immediately after, it is stated that a kismesissitude that might become like this needs an auspistice. that’s right, trolls are so committed to healthy kismesissitudes that they have an entire system in place to stop them from becoming toxic. the vriska/kanaya/tavros auspisticism, while a failure on every conceivable level, was born out of the necessity that the other trolls considered vriska’s torment of tavros unhealthy. even among her fellow trolls, in a society that explicitly encouraged casteiesm and ableism, vriska’s treatment of tavros was still considered too toxic for a proper kismesissitude.
I won't second-guess the utility of auspisticism in situations like this. It makes perfect sense that the role exists, and it certainly does an important job.
However, once again, I really don't understand the monogamy aspect. Helping a loved one escape a toxic or abusive relationship should not be a one-person job, and enforcing that requirement serves to sabotage what could have been a much more effective social role.
Like - imagine that, upon becoming VrisTav's auspistice, Kanaya's first action was to call for backup. If she was allowed to introduce additional auspistices to the situation, such as Aradia or Terezi, then Vriska wouldn't have been able to continue tormenting Tavros as soon as Kanaya turned her back. It takes a village, guys!
vriska and eridan, who were in a kismesissitude before vriska became bored of eridan, were allies in their roleplaying games. much like the ancestors they were emulating, (who even supposedly “cherished” their own black relationship!); they explicitly traded and shared their rewards and goods with each other because of their romantic relationship with each other, and were said to work together in flarp well enough to be feared by others. of course, they also competed with each other to be the best– because they are rivals– but rivalry does not constitute toxticity. they called each other “allies” and “competitors”. not enemies. [...] as vriska and eridan talk about here, a rivalry between trolls is something fun for both of them. that is why they must hate each other “equally”-- they need to feel on equal footing, so that they can both have fun. that’s what a rivalry is for trolls. it’s fun!
Eridan/Vriska is a relationship I wish we'd seen on-panel, because this one is really hard to picture. Eridan's personality doesn't feel at all compatible with Vriska's, and I don't understand what she saw in him.
Vriska is one of the smartest, most resourceful, most dangerous trolls around, and there was apparently a time she thought of Eridan as a rival. As an equal. All he really has to offer is an overpowered weapon, and Vriska's already got one of those.
Sure, she got bored later, but unless Eridan has some extremely hidden depths, she should have been bored from day one. How did their rivalry even work?
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I think the problem here is that we haven't seen any non-toxic kismesissitudes. Vriska/Tavros is a nightmare, Equius/Aradia was mind control, Eridan/Vriska happened offscreen, and John/Karkat never happened at all. It's difficult to extrapolate what a non-awful kismesissitude might look like, when we've only seen the worst the quadrant has to offer. Actually seeing Vriska's spades with Eridan, instead of having it described second-hand, might help to clear this up, but that seems fairly unlikely at this point.
This, at least, is a problem that might solve itself. We've still got a lot of comic to go, and the passion its fandom has for the quadrants makes it clear that they're not going anywhere. I don't think I'll be able to pass my final judgement on kismesissitude until we've seen one that actually works. I really like the idea of a romance centered around friendly rivalry - I just wish the comic would show me one!
and that brings me finally to john and karkat. i remember seeing confusion on this blog about the nature of karkat’s feelings– 'why is he helping john? doesn’t he ‘hate’ him? he must not REALLY feel pitch romance for him, and he’s just confused.' well you see, that’s the thing. the reason karkat’s first message to john was a love poem is because that is what kismesissitude is. it was karkat’s way of saying; “you’re special to me. i would like to bug you to see if you feel the same way.” it’s not as if strangely romantic healthy rivalries between teenagers are even an unheard of or new concept. they’re fairly common in television shows and anime; hell there’s even multiple tvtropes pages for them! it’s not impossible that two people in a story could have a healthy rivalry fun enough that they both end up missing it should it be gone. (looking at you, perry and doof.)
Like, this sounds cool! You're describing a really fun version of kismesissitude, here - one which brings to mind Wright and Edgeworth, Sonic and Shadow, and a dozen other popular couples.
This interpretation would be less dangerous for teenagers - it certainly worked for Lumity - and again, I just hope we eventually see something like this on-panel!
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kitts-mechanix · 29 days ago
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I just had a huge realisation yesterday and I wanted to share this after going through some pretty horrible stuff over the weekend: Something I've always asked myself ever since getting into G1 Transformers was "why do you like Starscream so much even though he's a narcissistic bully? Why are you, someone who is a victim of narcissistic abuse, taking comfort in a narcissistic character?" Well, I think I finally figured it out. Because Starscream is also a victim of that very same abuse. I mean, he's beaten, called names, bullied, unappreciated, abused, and put through the wringer…and he internalised all that abuse because he knew no other way. He had no one to turn to, and the few bots who did support him, he treated like dirt. Once he had that freedom and power, he abused it and became the very thing that abused him. I have no doubt he was always self-centred, selfish, had a huge ego, etc. before all that but honestly? I think Megatron's abuse caused him to turn out the way he did. I could have turned out that way and it's a little scary, some of the parallels I'm drawing with him.
@ichbinmeltdown wrote a great analysis on Starscream that I want to share here:
"Megatron was abusive as hell to Starscream. He treated him horribly, and I legitimately almost cried a few times watching it. There's an episode called Starscream's Brigade that introduces the Combaticons, and I think that perfectly demonstrates the cycle of abuse. The entire world is against Starscream at pretty much every turn throughout the series, but none more so than Megatron. Every word out of his speech synthesizer to Starscream is to berate him, and he's constantly throwing him around, beating him, even ripping out his speech synthesizer in a scene from a previous episode (Hoist Goes Hollywood, IIRC). His own teammates don't like him, and even his brothers- Skywarp and Thundercracker, going off of the idea they're brothers- just... allow Megatron to abuse him. (Not to get into headcanons here, but I personally believe that Megatron's abuse fractured the Elite Trine's family dynamic. They are still brothers and love each other, but they're all too afraid of Megatron to really... stand up for each other as they did in the past.) And Starscream seemed to just snap in this episode. He treated the Combaticons poorly, and even when teaming up with Shockwave, he subjected him to a lot of the same ridicule and torment that Megatron put him through. He failed to realize Shockwave was the one of the only bots who would give him a chance- and unfortunately lashed out at him, which ruined his chances of Shockwave ever being a true friend and ally to him. Once Starscream had finally gotten a taste of power and not being under another bot's boot, he too became the very thing that he lived in fear of. And that really is how the cycle goes- when you're finally free from abuse, it can be tempting to overcompensate and take back all the power you were robbed of, at any cost whatsoever. Starscream, like D16 in Transformers One, snapped up this opportunity."
And the sad thing is, I've seen this in real life and I've internalised some of the abuse I've dealt with too. I'm not proud of it. Like the Seeker Trine, my own family dynamic has been fractured by similar abuse. I know there's traces of narcissism in my behaviour too, and I'm NOT proud of it. Maybe this is why I can forgive Starscream for being a narc, because I can see a little bit of my own personality/attitude/behaviour in him. Maybe it's because I know where it came from, I get why he acts that way and it's not just random and out of the blue. Maybe it's because--and I know this is a bold statement--I don't think he would do some of the stuff my own family did to me (blah blah blah he's a fictional character).
I didn't mean for this to turn into a long rant, so
TLDR: I finally figured out that part of the reason I love and relate to Starscream so much despite him internalising some of the abuse I went through, is because he was the victim of that same abuse.
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Every time I learn something new about Batman: War Games I lose my mind a little bit more cause just, just fuckin, look okay so here's the thing:
Stephanie Brown tries to implement a contingency plan of Bruce's just after he fires her from being Robin and because of that gets tortured to (almost) death and no one knows she survived.
THIS STORY RUNS IN THE NEWS:
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So, you know, anyone who might be paying even half a fucking ounce of attention to news about ROBINS would definitely absolutely notice this!!!
And then very very soon afterwards Jason comes back and specifically targets Black Mask to ruin the criminal empire he tortured Stephanie to get
As a way to torment Bruce about the fact that he doesn't take care of the nastiest criminals and they continue killing people
And how Jason should have been the last to die
and SOMEHOW
these two things are in no way related and Jason has nothing to do with or say about Stephanie Brown, fellow Robin, fellow martyred soldier, fellow child dead due to Bruce related villains.
HOLY DEAD SIDEKICKS BATMAN, DO YOU COMPREHEND THE MAGNITUDE OF MISSED OPPORTUNITIES HERE????
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please walk with me down a timeline in which:
Lost Days Jason at first just tries to go after the Joker and can't because who he's really mad at is Bruce.
Then he sees Who Really Killed Stephanie Brown and the utter horror of another Robin dying on Bruce's watch (not just dying, but tortured to death!) is what convinces him to try to straight up kill Bruce via car bomb
Roman Sionis is no longer merely a tool against Batman, but another figure to demand vengeance be brought upon, another attempt to give Bruce a chance to right his wrongs and do what needs to be done
The confrontation with him and the Joker being all the more tragic due to how obvious Bruce's answer would have to be once Jason knows Bruce isn't going to avenge Stephanie either
Does Jason, once he escapes the rubble after UtRH is over, kill Black Mask anyways? Does he decide to avenge her himself? Or does he think that she too would demand that of Bruce, and find his death by a different hand unsatisfactory?
If he doesn't kill Black Mask, then when Steph is back, I feel confident he approaches her, tries to reach out to the other dead Robin, almost certainly makes the offer now that he can ask her. Does she take him up on it, gaining an ally and slipping into a far darker role? Does she instead refuse, either appealing to forgiveness or far more interestingly refusing both vengeance and forgiveness? How would Jason handle a refusal, which I gut instinct feel is more likely?
If he does kill Black Mask, then when Steph is back Jason drops his corpse at her feet like a loving housecat with a dead lizard and she has to grapple with her feelings about having someone really and truly avenge her!!! Like how DO you react to someone who you have been warned is wildly dangerous and mentally unstable coming up to you and saying, "I'm glad you're back, like me. I'm sorry you're back, like me. I made sure you could rest knowing he was dead, because I know what it feels like."
Like no matter how each character reacted to this happening there would be so much high stakes emotional shit to explore with both of them!! Revenge I feel like is such a pivotal thing for both characters, they mirror each other in so so many ways, they could be really interesting together if DC would just fucking let them!!!
Jason had a criminal father who he missed and wanted to avenge. Stephanie had a criminal father who she wanted vengeance on.
Jason started off as a fairly gentle soul who progressively became more violent and more hopeless as he was exposed to genuine horrors during his time as Robin. Stephanie starts off violent, angry and rash and finds her own courage and hope through her time as a crime fighter despite of the horrors she's been through.
Jason went to Africa and died there after Bruce failed to save him. Stephanie was taken to Africa via a fake death in order to save her from Bruce and the vigilante lifestyle.
I just...
There's just...
There's SO MUCH HERE I am genuinely fucking confused as to how this is not all deliberate?? And it's all just left on the cutting room floor because for no reason apparent to me they all just decided Stephanie and Jason were not gonna interact!
AAGHHHH!
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tadc-harlequin-au · 5 months ago
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Celebratory 1k+ post! (+Official Reveal of "Him.")
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First of all, before I start, I would just like to thanks everyone from the bottom of my heart. I cannot begin to emphasize just how much it means to me that more than 1,000 of you decided that this blog was follow worthy.
The fact that so many people engage with this blog, whether asking a lore-related question to know more about the world of the AU, to joking around and making me laugh makes my heart swell with pride and joy.
This AU's purpose was not only to tell a story, but to also destress myself from my problems so I can keep my head on my shoulders and keep on living. So to know that many people found this passion project interesting enough, well... All I could really say is...
Thank you.
Thank you so much for giving me the opportunity to share an incredibly canon-divergent story that is so far removed from the original source, it may as well be considered as a standalone project.
Thank you for sparing a little bit of your time and attention (as well as a few braincells) to learn about the characters, the story, the history, and the world of it.
... And most of all, thank you for continuously saving me from the darkness that attempts to consume me everyday.
No one really knows what happens to me behind the screen, and I'd rather keep it that way because I don't wanna be such a downer. Even here, I want to keep things lighthearted so I won't be delving into that.
Besides that, there's unfortunately something I haven't been entirely honest with you guys. Everyone knows about the B.O.S.S. (B.loodthirsty, O.verburdened S.corned S.ouls) roster, and how they serve as the AU's antagonists, but there is a secret character who doesn't exactly fall into that category.
Rather, he's not just a normal boss antagonist. HE'S THE OVERARCHING VILLAIN OF THIS AU, and has been teased since WAYYYY back to the early poster of the Harlequin AU.
You may know this guy as "???" from the roster list, or "HIM" from the answered lore-related asks. Well, for the sake of a celebratory 1k post that won't provide much strain for me, I've decided to reveal who this is.
Now, without further ado, I'd like you all to meet-
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"The Patriarch of Puppets" - Official design reveal!
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"Adorned in silver and reds, The Patriarch of Puppets (or simply, "The Patriarch") is an untouchable and powerful entity who constantly chases Pomni after she finishes a battle with a Boss."
No one knows what the fuck his problem is, But one thing is for sure: he first shows up after Pomni defeats the Skirmish General, and seems to like tormenting the Combat Harlequin by attempting to separate her soul from her heart and inflicting burning agony.
Pomni, in tandem, feels GREAT DREAD even at her first encounter with The Patriarch; she doesn't know why, but whenever he's in her general presence, her entire soul, AND her fight-or-flight instincts screams TWO THINGS: "DANGEROUS. RUN."
Pomni CANNOT fight him to save her life. Her sword hands starts to tremble and she can't move if she's around him for too long. She knows from the very beginning that this is a fight that she cannot win no matter what. He is the Hunter, and she is the Prize.
Bubble also seems to power off instantly and just crash to the ground with no warning, an immediate telling sign that he's already in the general vicinity. He seems to not care about the blimp in the slightest.
His classification is a King Harlequin; 1) a reference to "king-size", 2) a literal one of a kind Puppet, and 3) the tallest of Harlequins that no one even knew existed in the first place.
Just how tall exactly? Well...... here's the updated lineup.
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I hope that this is a fitting celebratory 1k treat for all you hungry lore eaters and Harlequin AU enjoyers!
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lunarriviera · 21 days ago
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yet another shen yi meta [uts2 spoilers]
hi hey hello everyone i continue to be tormented with obsessive thinkings about s2 Shen Yi so i must holler about them/him some more, feel free to stop reading if you have not watched through approximately episode 11 which is where i still am. it's taking me longer to watch because i keep pausing to rewind/screenshot and/or weep in anguish about Him and What He Is Going Through. and how NO ONE IS PAYING ATTENTION. or insufficient attention. cf. Ryan Gosling in the Papyrus sketch screaming WELL IT WASN'T!! ENOUGH!!
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[more. much more. behind the cut]
let's start here, with shen yi's artwork. in this scene he competed with AI to paint a chosen image and, surprising exactly no one, he won, partly because he's brilliant but tbh mostly because AI art is garbage and always adds dolphins, rainbows, and hands with six fingers.
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but here's the thing: is no one going to question this? does anyone think to themselves "ah yes, shen yi is absolutely the BEST person in the world to make a painting in 30 minutes that depicts, quote, a lonely man on a beach." so here is this miserably hunched, despairing figure, surrounded by murky howling early-picasso blue, LOOKING IN FACT QUITE A LOT LIKE SHEN YI HIMSELF—even dressed like him (in the snowy white and dainty pastels he seems to favor this season)—and not a single person thinks: huh, wonder if this guy's okay?
in fact s2 seems to be repeated evidence of the fact that shen yi is Very Much Not Okay, and yet no one is really paying attention. he supports everyone else emotionally and they all seem to assume he either a) has no emotional blowback to deal with, or b) can deal with it himself unaided somehow. (through painting, maybe? but have you seen what he's painting lately? e.g. monstrous abusive parent figures, in some kind of breathless fugue state during which he can psychically hear lines from someone else's traumatic childhood?) he goes to li han's house to help her, which is so like him, and he says:
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oh! you might think. well, maybe he will self-disclose a little? tell li han about some of his own personal difficulties that he's had to overcome, just to bond with her, get her to open up? HAHAHA ARE YOU NEW HERE, of course he doesn't, he just listens to her while she sobs out her tragic backstory, gives her a tissue, relates her struggles to a vaguely terrifying metaphor of his own device about a sealed room filling up ineluctably with floodwater, then smiles and takes her out for pizza. (totally unrelated but wow the product placement is heavy-handed this season. xiaomi! pizza hut!)
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since we're talking about the li han case, consider this moment, too, when he interprets someone's house-person-tree drawing. does no one ever think, "for someone who talks constantly about love and connection, how interesting that shen yi has no family, refuses to date in very pointed and deliberate way, and lives alone with a cat."
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shen yi knows all about love! never shuts up about love! constantly dispensing bromides about what real love should be like! and wakes every day ALONE from horrific guilty nightmares ft. creepy small girl in blood-red dress, pls will no one help this man pls he's drowning.
couple more bits and then i swear to god i'll shut up i'm starting to feel really stupid. but first consider this little story, in three parts:
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"an image of despair" um okay well…technically it's just a dead body, albeit after a fairly grisly stabbing, but sure go off i guess
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2. du cheng: wow even for you that was unusually poetic and weird
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3. also du cheng: back to investigating the murder i guess [wanders away]
this kind of thing happens again. and again. either no one notices assorted horrified/devastated expressions on shen yi's face (in the way of classic extradiegetic reaction shots, where the camera sees them—we see them—but none of the characters onscreen do) or, when du cheng does notice, he's immediately distracted by his actual job, and/or the fact that he doesn't really know how to help his partner, because lbr he has all the emotional intelligence of a pony.
one more mini-story in three parts, and then i really will put a sock in it:
shen yi: why, what did i do. why are you looking at me like that
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2. du cheng: bc you just lied your whole entire face off with alarming unsettling proficiency, since when are you that good at being dishonest
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3. shen yi: hehe
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in an earlier episode we also saw shen yi shouting at a suspect in the interrogation room, so convincingly that afterwards du cheng admits, you scared me. lol! says shen yi in carefree manner, i learned that from you! haha! agrees everyone, and they go about their business.
but ghastly things keep happening to and near him. at least once per episode, shen yi makes a face like this, because people are jumping off cliffs in front of him or abruptly smashing things with hammers or just lashing out with all kinds of antisocial behaviors in his vicinity:
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to be fair, he has other expressions. for instance he also repeatedly employs his patented creepy ruthless smile, of the "i am going to fuck you up" variety, an expression reserved especially for criminals:
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as well, i'm also leaving out all the ridiculously adorable/domestic scenes with him and du cheng, in which they share candy, roast each other about assorted nonsense, briefly co-parent a child, and, you know. are just generally disgustingly married. but that's a different meta.
also, admittedly du cheng does SAY things. he says, "are you still having trouble sleeping," he says "do i not care about you?" and "don't push yourself so hard" and "if you run into troubles, don't try to take them on alone." (i am sparing you all these screenshots since this is a meta about shen yi but trust me i have carefully accumulated every single shred of evidence in which du cheng is protective.) but, as frequently as du cheng expresses concern, he also just keeps clapping shen yi on the shoulder in a brotastic way and then strolling out. which i fear is just not going to be adequate. ("i don’t think this is literally papyrus. maybe that was the starting point but they clearly modified it?" "well whatever they did, IT WASN'T!! ENOUGH!!")
i leave you with two final images of shen yi, seen here continuing to be very much Not Okay, and to quote the bernie meme, i am ONCE AGAIN ASKING YOU, drama, is anyone going to care enough about this man to stop him going over the edge of the cliff with Evil Art Critic Eugenicist Moriarty Weasel Man? because he will, he will do it. because he's lonely and he's misunderstood and he's—
[cane comes out and drags me offstage]
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neptuneiris · 10 months ago
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could you pretend to be in love? (06/10)
The Connection
pairing: modern!aemond × fem!reader (fake dating)
summary: an unexpected person from the past shows up and there is a family dinner to attend, resulting in disastrous thoughts and difficult decisions.
word count: 8.9k
previous part • next chapter • series masterlist
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the chapter is finally here!
sorry it took me so long, if you didn't see my last post go do it and you'll know why👀 but we can put it behind us now and I'm excited to tell you that the next chapter will finally give us that next level we've been waiting for so long!
I really hope it won't take me that long but for now, let's enjoy this new chapter and as always, I'll be very anxious to read your comments🥰
enjoy!
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The day of the dinner is slowly approaching.
And you still don't feel completely sure about it. However, despite your doubts and worries, you haven't backed out.
Mostly you think about what you're going to tell Aemond's mother by way of ruining things out of nervousness. Of course he should have already given her information about the relationship, but you're worried that she'll ask you questions and you won't know how to answer.
But that's not the reason she wants to get to know you… is it?
You think she probably just wants to know more about you, your likings, your non likings, your aspirations in life, your dreams, your family and things related to that.
Right?
You just hope so.
You've never done this before, meeting a guy's parents, ever. And you just get more nervous and feel more pressure knowing that Aegon and Helaena will be there too.
As well as you also feel guilty about the fact that they all think that you and Aemond are for real and you're just going to go there and convince them and assure them that you and Aemond are crazy about each other… when it's not true.
Now it's Thursday, tomorrow is dinner and Aemond doesn't seem at all concerned about it, when your thoughts are being completely tormented with it.
Still, you listen attentively to his words as you put away some books in your locker and he's standing next to you, leaning against the lockers, with the Romeo and Juliet book in his hands.
"Why did you make me read this shit? It's too hard to read and I don't like it," he says longingly.
You look away from your books to him and place a small amused smile on your lips at the sight of his face.
"It's like poetry and I don't like poetry, I don't understand it," he says frustrated, "I don't understand any of the weird rhyming they say."
"Well, Shakespeare has a unique way of expressing himself."
"Yeah, but what does he mean by 'My lips, two humble blazons, are ready to seal with a kiss softly'?" he recites reading the phrase with his brows furrowed and you let out a small laugh.
"Shakespeare loved beauty in words, even if it meant complicating things a bit."
"Yeah but why can't he just kiss her and be done with it without saying these weird words that give me cringe?"
"Come on," you give him an incredulous look, "It's romantic. The whole book is romantic with a tragic ending."
"This is definitely not romantic," he says incredulously and shaking his head, "It's weird, boring and makes me want to puke."
You look at him with a pout.
"You're not romantic at all."
"Excuse me?"
He immediately comes to defend himself, staring at you incredulously and completely indignant.
"I can be extremely romantic, thank you very much."
You raise your hands in a gesture of surrender, with a small smile as you see the spark of amusement in his gaze.
"You of all people should know that, you've witnessed it and you're the reason I do it mostly," he adds.
"But that's not… you know," you give him an expectant, knowing look.
"It's still romantic."
"No, it's not," you say with a laugh.
At your playful response, still busy at your locker, you don't notice and Aemond suddenly approaches. He takes your chin with one of his hands gently but firmly enough, causing you to look up at him, catching you off guard.
"What did you just say, my love?" he asks with a mischievous smile and amusement in his gaze, appearing serious and warning.
He brings his face closer to yours with a demanding gaze and your heart begins to pound as you let yourself be carried away by his proximity.
It is clear that he is going to kiss you, what does this mean if not kiss you? So you watch him expectantly and with your face lifted towards him, really looking forward to the sweet contact, your lips inches from his.
But first Aemond looks around briefly, wanting to make sure that some students in the hallway are watching you. When then, you see that he is overlooking a specific spot in the hallway.
You see how there is a slight glint in his eye and then he no longer moves.
You frown slightly, waiting. And before you can say or do anything, Aemond suddenly pulls away.
Confusion overtakes you and he clears his throat by averting his gaze, then smiles softly at you as if he wasn't about to kiss you seconds ago.
"Then I'll be more romantic next time," he says, taking his distance from you, as if trying to minimize the tense moment you've just shared.
Was he going to kiss you or not?
You can't just tell him to kiss you either, that he was going to, since this isn't real but… the change in his behavior confuses you, you don't quite understand what just happened and you don't know what to say.
"I have to go to the field now," he tells you, averting his gaze for a moment before looking at you again, "I'll see you in class, okay?"
"Hum… yeah, yeah, okay," you nod, still confused.
He gives you one last smile and before leaving, he gives your shoulder a light squeeze with his hand, another gesture that catches you off guard. Without a kiss on your forehead or cheek, as he usually does, he walks away.
You stand in the hallway, watching him go, with a mix of emotions you can't help but feel confused, uncertain and... disappointed.
Questions swirl around in your mind, but you don't have any answers. So shaking your head to clear your thoughts, you close your locker door and head to your next class.
Eventually you continue to run into him and he acts normal, as usual. He sits next to you in class, does the teacher's requested activities with you, and walks with you through the halls to the next class.
And everything is…normal, in a way.
Although he's still being kind and attentive, he's not being as affectionate as usual.
You can see how he's distracted, deep in thought from time to time, something is on his mind, something that you have no idea what it is but that keeps you alert, confused and makes you feel completely different from previous days.
You sense that the dynamic between you today has changed somehow, leaving you feeling bewildered.
And you don't know why.
Although it's not until break time that you find yourself sitting at a table alone, still feeling this awkwardness, when Alysanne comes in and drops the big bombshell on you that makes all the sense in the world.
"Why are you here eating so casually when I just saw your boyfriend catching up with his other ex-girlfriend?"
You raise your gaze to her almost instantly, with a mixture of surprise and confusion, a knot forming in your stomach as the weight of her words settle on your shoulders.
"What?"
"Yeah, Floris Baratheon," she says, then looks at you slightly confused, "How did you not know this?"
"What?" you repeat, not understanding.
"Floris Baratheon," she repeats to you slowly and clearly, "Dark hair, not as tall and certainly not as bitchy as Alys but still she falls into the category of girls who are superficial and think they are better than other girls," she explains to you.
Confusion lingers in your gaze, for despite the explanation, you still don't remember anything about a girl named Floris Baratheon at school.
"You really don't know who she is? Aemond didn't tell you about her?" asks Alysanne incredulously and your face answers her questions, "She transferred schools for a semester and just returned this morning. She and Aemond weren't actually dating but they had a thing when he and Alys broke up for like the twelfth time."
Your mind whirls as you process the information.
Honestly you had no idea about Floris' existence back in your invisibility days at school. Therefore, you also had no idea that she and Aemond had ever had any kind of relationship.
However… there is something you have an idea of at the moment.
This is why Aemond acted weird with you this morning, because of her. He must have seen her in the hallway and his demeanor changed completely.
"I-I didn't know that," you admit in a soft, low voice, trying to hide the uneasiness that is starting to creep up on you.
"Well, it's weird that Aemond didn't tell you anything, especially since I saw the two of them so comfortable and happy talking," she lets you know, "And I'm not telling you this with any malice or to make you feel bad, it's just that I think you should know, even though I thought you already knew."
You bite the inside of your cheek, feeling a surge of emotions wash over you that you can't quite explain, nor can you avoid.
You're not sure what to think or how to react to this, but one thing is for sure; things between you and Aemond are likely to get complicated.
But what can you really do?
You and he aren't really dating. What's the point of asking him about it when it's really none of your business? Besides if he didn't talk to you about it before, when he saw her, it must be for this very reason.
You have no right here, even if you feel this.
"Do you want to get out of here?" asks you Alysanne later, noticing your face and probably everything that is invading your mind.
And soon enough, she takes you to the rooftop of the school, outdoors, where you just sit and watch the sky and listen to her while she smokes a cigarette, talking to you about Cregan being around her lately.
But as much as you want to give her your full attention and corroborate what she is telling you, you can't.
The rest of the classes are without Aemond, since you don't share them with him, and when the school day ends, still not knowing exactly whether to wait for him to drive you home or not, you head for the exit of the building, deep in thought.
"Hey."
You feel a hand grab your shoulder and when you turn your head without stopping moving forward, you find Aemond standing next to you.
"Hi," you reply softly, turning your gaze back to the front.
And he at your side gives you an attentive, curious and slightly confused look.
"Are you okay? I didn't see you at break," he says softly, "I also texted you and you didn't respond."
"Oh," your mind goes blank for a moment, "I was with Alysanne on the roof. She was talking to me about some things."
"Hmm," he nods, still watching you between a mixture of attentive and curious.
Then the two of you say nothing more, with the silence loud between the two of you and that tension emanating from your body, when you speak again.
"Are you going to drive me home today?" you decide to ask him, watching him, with that hesitation in your tone of voice and look.
And he frowns, watching you blankly.
"I always drive you."
You are about to speak but a third voice does it for you, stopping your steps and also Aemond's.
"Aem!"
The two turn their heads and there she is, Floris Baratheon.
Black hair, brown eyes, slender and absolutely beautiful features. She approaches with a smile, showing off her perfect, aligned teeth.
Everything about her screams money, as well as elegance, from her perfectly coiffed hair to her impeccable designer clothes and accessories.
And the moment she catches both your attention and Aemond's, you notice how he beside you tenses slightly.
"Hey," she gives him a charming smile and her full attention, placing herself in front of him, "The guys are going to get something to eat, I was just told. Do you want to join us? We can take off in your car and catch up some more."
"Hum…" he is silent for a moment, shooting you a nervous glance, scratching the back of his neck.
And throwing you another glance, this finally catches Floris' attention and she notices your presence as well.
"Oh… hi," she smiles softly at you.
Despite your nerves and how uncomfortable you're starting to feel, you force yourself to smile as kindly and genuinely as possible.
"Hi."
"I'm sorry, I don't think I know you," she tells you in an exaggeratedly kind tone of voice.
And this too finally gets Aemond to react.
"Yeah, right, that's my fault," he says trying to act nonchalant and completely relaxed, "Floris, this is Y/N, m-my girlfriend."
You watch as she parts her lips and her surprise is evident as she looks at Aemond and then turns her attention back to you.
"I-I didn't find the moment to tell you."
You instantly observe Aemond, with a look that even you can't explain and he suddenly can't control his nervous gestures anymore, giving a wary glance to you and then to Floris.
"Oh."
She turns her gaze back to you and though she tries to hide her surprise, the strength of her smile seems a bit forced as she holds out her hand to you.
"I'm Floris, nice to meet you."
And within everything you're feeling right now, like awkwardness and feeling out of place, you still shake your hand with hers.
"Nice to meet you."
Tension is in the air and Aemond looks hesitant for a moment. And you continue to feel like an intruder between them, getting in between the interaction of two people sharing a history you don't fully know about.
When Aemond speaks again.
"Floris is my…
He tries to tell you, but his words are left floating in the air.
Suddenly you see how he struggles and searches his mind for a way to introduce you to the girl he had a thing with in the past, only according to him, you don't know that, when certainly Alysanne already took care of it.
And just like you, you too feel Floris' anticipation, waiting for him to introduce her.
"An old friend," he finally says.
Floris arches an eyebrow slightly at Aemond's introduction, her lips curving into a smile that seems to contain more than just politeness.
"Yes, that," she punctuates, with a knowing look that to you does not go unnoticed, "Well, I just wanted to know if you were free for this afternoon. Although if you want you can bring your girlfriend with us," she proposes.
Aemond takes a moment to respond, averting his gaze as he scratches the back of his neck in a nervous gesture.
And that's when you decide to speak.
"You can go with them," you tell him and that immediately gets his attention and hers, "I can just take the bus or something and I'll see you later," you say to start walking away from both of them.
His attention and slight surprise is most visible on his face, but before you can move too far away, he grabs your hand and advances towards you.
"What? No" he immediately inquires, "No, I'll take you home."
The determination in his tone of voice and in his gaze makes you feel a little more comforted, but still, you can't shake this uneasiness in you about Floris' presence.
And that's when Aemond turns to her again without letting go of your hand.
"Sorry Floris, another time," he tells her in his firmer, slightly strained voice.
And she nods with a sympathetic look, though you can't help but sense there's something else behind her expression.
"Of course, I understand, it'll be for next time then," she says, before turning to you, "It was nice meeting you, Y/N."
And finally she is the first to walk away.
You exchange a look you can't quite describe with Aemond and feel the awkwardness and seriousness linger between the two of you, even as the two of you leave the building and make your way to his car.
And once in the passenger seat and with Aemond driving through the city streets, you find yourself fiddling with your fingers in your lap, still feeling the awkwardness in the air.
You don't understand exactly what's got you right now but you can't even see Aemond out of the corner of your eye, so you keep your gaze focused straight ahead and on the side where the window is.
"Are you okay?"
You suddenly hear his voice speak softly to you, feeling his gaze on you from time to time and you squirm a little in your seat before you speak, swallowing hard.
"Yeah, all good," you say, trying to sound convincing.
He exhales deeply, noticing your distance again.
"I'm sorry if the Floris thing made you uncomfortable. S-she…" he sighs, "She's truly a childhood friend. We had something in the past but it was very brief and it's no longer relevant."
And although there is nothing wrong with his words, you still can't help but feel a slight knot in your stomach. And you act completely unconcerned.
"I understand," you say simply, in a soft voice and still without looking at him.
But this is not convincing to Aemond, who licks his lips and can't help but worry about the situation.
"I mean it."
"Aemond," you call him softly, finally looking at him, "I understand, I really do," you assure him, "I also meant it when I said you should go eat with her and your friends. You seemed very uncomfortable and there was no problem from me."
He nods slowly, but still looks a little uneasy.
"I just didn't expect I was going to see her again."
And you don't know if that's worse.
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"Are you ready?"
Oh God, are you?
"I don't know," you answer honestly, nervously, looking at your outfit.
For this occasion you chose a pair of pants, ankle boots and a white tank top with a black jacket over it. You don't look overdressed but decent for the occasion, along with your makeup and hairstyle.
"Hey, easy," he says softly, placing both hands on your shoulders, "It's going to be okay. Besides we won't be alone, Aegon and Hel will be with us."
"Yeah but that's not what I'm worried about," you clarify, playing with your fingers, "What if I ruin everything?" you ask watching him fearfully, "What if everyone realizes that we're not really dating because of me?"
"I'll take care of that, don't worry," he assures you, with his soft gaze, "You just have to corroborate everything I say and stick to the main story. Other than that, my mother will just ask you questions about you to get to know you better."
"Are you sure?" you ask, not entirely convinced.
"Very," he affirms you, conveying calmness and assurance in his voice.
"You've done this before?" you can't help but ask, still with some hesitation, "I mean…" you lick your lips, nervous, "You've brought a girl before to dinner with your family?"
He is silent for a moment, as if considering how to answer, as the implication is clear because that's not the real question, you know that too.
Rather it is: have you ever brought Alys to dinner with your family before?
"Yes," he finally admits in a murmur, sincerely, "Yes, I have."
You stare at him silently, without the two of you saying anything else, only to look away and nod, again trying to look unconcerned, trying to calm your nerves further.
"My mother never liked her," he says later, again attracting your attention, "You know, Alys."
Again, you say nothing for a few moments, just lick your lips and nod.
"I understand."
Aemond lets out a heavy breath and takes a step towards you, lowering one of his hands to take one of yours, gently rubbing his thumb against the back of yours, this also immediately catching your attention, as you see him looking at you for a moment thoughtfully.
"Are you ready now?" he asks you softly, raising his gaze to you, "We can stay here a while longer if you want."
"No," you reply immediately, "No, I don't want to make everyone wait for us," you release a long breath, calming your nerves, "I'm ready now."
He places a small comforting smile on his lips.
"You'll do fine, trust me," he assures you then moves closer to you and leaves a soft kiss on your forehead, just like at school.
His action definitely catches you off guard and you look at him slightly surprised, but Aemond doesn't give it that much importance, as if it was already a natural and routine thing between both of you, like a gesture of encouragement, to then take you by the hand together with him to the entrance of his house.
His house is nice and big, with a beautiful garden, so when you open the door, you see a huge and cozy living room with the dining room visible in the background, where you can make out Aegon's figure and his short silver hair.
Aemond closes the door behind you and you briefly look around, seeing the decorations of the elegant house, such as mirrors, flowers vases and also family photos.
Mostly, you see pictures of young children, which you recognize as Helaena, Aemond, Aegon and his other brother, Daeron.
There are also photos of what you assume is their mother and also a man, who you assume is the father, with Aemond and his siblings as children. But it strikes you that none of the four are smiling, just the mom a little.
There are more current pictures, only of Aemond, Helaena and Aegon smiling next to their mother, with no trace of their father and Daeron.
"He's my younger brother," he takes a single photo of a boy, standing next to you and handing it to you, "Daeron."
And just as you imagined, he's a boy of about fifteen with striking blue eyes and short silver hair, smiling at the camera with a bright face and looking in the background like he's standing in a lake at Honeyholt.
"Helaena was right," you say with a small smile, still inspecting the photo, "He really is the handsomest of the three of you."
"That's not true," he tells you immediately, taking the photo out of your hands and putting it back in its place with a quick, automatic gesture, making you laugh.
"What's up, bro?"
You both hear Aegon's voice and turn around, with the silver-haired man already walking towards you with a bottle of beer in his hand and a huge grin on his face.
"Are you drinking already?" Aemond inquires, "Mom's going to kill you."
"Oh, you know how persuasive I can be," he tells him without wiping off his smile, "Besides, I've already set the table," he points to the dining room, "It's dinner, bro."
"Careful," he warns you but he deliberately ignores him, heading in your direction.
"Y/N!" he exclaims your name smiling, coming over to embrace you, "Welcome to our home."
"Hi Aegon," you smile back at him.
He envelops you in a hug and you reciprocate cordially, instantly the strong smell of beer reaching your nostrils.
"Want one?" he points to the beer in his hand as he pulls away from you.
"I don't think so," Aemond answers him, again intertwining his hand with yours, "Where's mom?"
"In the kitchen with Hel" he points out, "Tell them to hurry, I'm starving," he says in a tone of voice that catches your attention.
But Aemond pulls you forward, starting to leave him behind, with a serious and disapproving look at his brother's attitude.
"It's the beer," he explains to you quietly, "I hate it when he drinks at home. I just hope it doesn't get unbearable later."
"Why?" you ask him, curious.
He shakes his head.
"Aegon is… complicated."
He doesn't say anything else and neither do you, mostly because he leads you toward the kitchen, but curiosity still lingers on that subject.
He gives your hand a gentle squeeze in a supportive gesture that comforts you as you both cross the threshold into the kitchen, where instantly the smell of delicious freshly baked food hits your nostrils.
And the first thing you notice is a silver hair along with a darker one, who you assume must be Aemond's mother.
And immediately your nerves again explode and you feel your heart pounding hard in your chest.
"Hey, Y/N!"
A friendly voice says to you, being Helaena, who is wiping her hands with a clean dish towel and wearing a beautiful blue dress, instantly heading towards you with open arms.
"Hi Hel," you smile back happily, hugging her enthusiastically.
"Oh I'm so happy you're in our home," she says excitedly and warmly without letting go of you, "We've prepared turkey, I hope you like it," she says as she pulls away from you.
"Oh I'm sure it will," you nod at her with a sincere smile, feeling welcomed by the warmth of her welcome.
"Mom."
Aemond's voice momentarily pulls you out of your conversation with Helaena and you turn your head to meet the gaze of Alicent, Aemond's mother.
Instantly you try to control your nerves and keep your composure, remembering his comforting words.
And when Alicent's gaze meets yours, a warm smile forms on his lips, which makes you feel less nervous and conveys a sense of calm. Although the nervousness lingers, you feel a little more secure with his kindness.
Aemond places a comforting hand on your shoulder and steps forward to introduce you.
"This is my girlfriend, Y/N," he points to you with his small smile, "And Y/N, this is my mom, Alicent."
She is a very beautiful woman.
It's the first thing that comes to your mind, noting the dimples in her cheeks and that warm look she has, not being intimidating at all and being rather kind.
Besides the dark green dress she wears is completely beautiful, as well as her accessories. Everything about her radiates elegance and poise.
"A pleasure to finally meet you, my dear," she says, turning to you, "Gosh, I was so excited to meet you. It's so nice of you to come."
And without expecting it, just like Helaena, she too greets you with a hug, taking you completely off guard, causing you to let out a nervous little laugh as you hug her back.
"The pleasure is mine, Mrs. Hightower," you say softly, feeling slightly overwhelmed by her kindness and warmth.
"Please call me Alicent," she says as she pulls away from you.
Before all this you asked Aemond what to call her, just for the heck of it and to feel less nervous and he told you 'Hightower', the last name of her father.
So you assume that Aemond's father is not someone who gets mentioned much around here. In the family photos he is present in only one picture. And Aemond doesn't talk about him either.
And he watches with a small smile at the interaction between you and his mother, feeling relieved that things are going well so far.
"Please go and take your seats. Dinner will be served soon," she says to Aemond and you.
"Do you need help?" he asks her.
"I'm already doing it myself," Hel says, "Don't worry, little brother."
"Can you help me with your brother, please," Alicent tells him, with a look of slight concern.
"Of course," he assures her in a gentle tone.
Soon the two of you return to the dining room, the two of you take a seat together with Aegon and Aemond tries to tell him not to overdo it with his drinks, that you are here to enjoy a nice dinner with his family.
But he just makes nonchalant gestures and tells him that everything is fine, to continue drinking, looking at the screen of his phone, waiting for dinner.
Then you don't know how much time passes exactly but Alicent returns very soon along with Helaena with the food, placing the dishes in the center of the table, indicating that all this will start soon.
Aemond places his hand on top of yours underneath the table, giving you every supportive gesture possible, reassuring you at every turn that he can that all will be fine.
Every brush of his fingers against yours conveys reassurance and comfort.
You feel a slight relief as you feel his touch, reminding you that you are not alone at this moment and his presence gives you strength to face any nervousness that may arise during dinner.
And with the food finally served, the silverware begins to clink against the plate glass as everyone begins to enjoy the delicious dinner.
Aemond, like the supposed boyfriend in love with you, is totally attentive to you, asking if you're served this or that, wanting to make sure you're well received and comfortable to make this more bearable.
And you thank him all the way, feeling his mother's gaze on both of you from time to time, without wiping away her warm smile.
"Did you like the food, dears?" she asks generally.
"Oh yes," Helaena says with a look of total complicity, delighting in the food.
"It's delicious, Mom," Aemond tells her later.
"Totally," you corraborate politely, nodding in her direction.
Alicent smiles in satisfaction and then turns her attention to Aegon, who hasn't said anything since everyone started eating.
"How about you, son?" she asks him softly.
"It's fine," he says curtly, taking a huge swig from his bottle of beer.
This definitely gets your attention but Alicent as well as Aemond and Helaena decide not to give it enough attention, as if they're already used to it and don't want to ruin the moment by his behavior.
But you do notice the disapproval in each of their looks, especially the disappointment in Alicent. Though she almost instantly turns her attention away from Aegon to Aemond and you.
"So, how long have you two been dating exactly?" she asks curiously and without losing the kindness in her gaze and tone.
"A month," Aemond replies without hesitation at your side, resting one of his arms on the back of your chair.
And Alicent shakes his head with a small smile on his lips.
"And I still can't believe he kept you hidden from me, Y/N."
You smile in his direction, trying not to let your nerves give you away, as Aemond again interjects, with a soft look.
"We didn't want to rush things."
"I told him not to take too long to tell you," Helaena says as well, pointing at Aemond as she watches her mother.
"But he didn't tell me anything, Aegon did," Alicent says in amusement.
"Oh come on, I was going to tell you anyway," Aemond tries to justify himself.
"Oh you were going to?" Hel questions him.
"You want to turn her against me."
"I'm just telling the truth, little brother."
This causes Alicent to laugh softly and his gaze meets yours, where you laugh softly too, as the fight between Aemond and Hel continues. But this causes you to begin to feel comfortable and more at ease with the whole situation.
The only thing at the table that is completely serious is Aegon, who continues to concentrate on his drink and the food in front of him.
His reserved attitude contrasts with the energy you have with Aemond, his mother and sister, but they don't really give him much attention and everyone continues to enjoy the delicious food and create topics of conversation.
"So…" Alicent begins to speak, watching you with her warm gaze, "What are your college plans, sweetie?"
Oh my God.
Okay, it's happening.
You think as you slowly start to panic, but quickly get yourself under control, settling back in your seat.
"You're all graduating soon," she points to her kids with a small smile.
And you're about to speak but someone else does first.
"Which wouldn't be the case if Aegon hadn't repeated year… twice," Hel says condescendingly, pouring herself more food in a casual gesture.
"Helaena," Alicent reprimands her in a soft tone.
"Don't start with me."
Aegon's voice finally makes itself heard in a long time, speaking in a cold, curt tone, not even observing his sister, focused on his food.
"Just saying," Helaena says also with a pout in his direction.
"Then speak for yourself. You're a year behind too."
"Ugh," she sighs, "You talk like you don't know what happened."
"That's enough," Alicent says calmly, watching you both with a look of silent warning.
The atmosphere tenses slightly and all is silent for a moment, as you notice how Aemond next to you only runs a hand over his chin and you only hear the clink of silverware clattering against glass plates.
Alicent then turns his gaze to you and there you decide to speak, hoping to restore comfort to the atmosphere.
"Well, actually, I've applied to Oldtown University," you say with a soft smile, controlling your nerves, "I'm planning on getting into law school."
Surprise flashes across Alicent's face, as you briefly feel Aemond watching you beside you.
"Oh, wow," she nods slowly, her expression one of amazement, "What a coincidence, that's the same college Aemond wants to go to."
Aemond nods with a small smile, completely keeping up appearances.
"Yes," he confirms, "In fact it's perfect for us to go to the same place after graduation."
And just to show more affection with you, he places his hand and yours intertwined on top of the table, watching you with that 'love' he seeks to convey in these moments in front of his mother.
And Alicent watches you both with her soft smile, but is still intrigued by you.
"And why that choice? Law is something you always wanted to study?" she asks you, with genuine interest in her voice.
You try not to focus too much on the way Aemond's thumb begins to gently caress the skin on the back of your hand, which at the same time also reassures you.
And you nod in Alicent's direction.
"Yes, it's something I've always been interested in. It's a very heavy degree with very dense material, but it's very interesting and it's long been what I've decided for myself."
Alicent nods in your direction, listening to you intently and looking completely interested.
"And I guess at Oldtown it's a great opportunity to want to study law."
"Oh yes," you say eagerly, "Oldtown has one of the best faculties with very capable professors and all the material you need. It's certainly a great opportunity."
"But I also think that getting to study at such an in-demand university with few places in that major can be difficult," she tells you corroborating in conversation.
"Yeah, that's the bad thing, but…" you shrug, "I'm hopeful."
You watch subtly beside you, focusing for a moment on Aemond, speaking with that complicit tone, as of course he doesn't forget that the reason you're here doing this is precisely because of Oldtown.
He knows that all too well too.
"And your parents are supportive of your decision to study law?"
Slight surprise passes across your face, definitely not expecting that question, but you quickly manage to soften your face, though you still remain silent for a moment.
You try to hide any trace of bewilderment as you search for a suitable answer. And it is Alicent's same warm gaze that encourages you to respond.
"Uh… yes, my father is just as excited as I am about this possible opportunity," you reply with a small smile, being honest, "He has always supported me in all my decisions."
You respond without saying anything else and with sincerity, not mentioning anything about your mother.
"Well, I'm glad to hear that," he nods at you and smiles warmly, "And what about your mother, dear?" she asks with genuine curiosity.
Inevitably your whole body tenses at that moment. And an uncomfortable feeling settles in the pit of your stomach as you think again about how to respond.
You honestly didn't expect the conversation to get to this point, about how even after talking only about your father, you're still being asked about your mother.
And for a moment, you don't know what to say or what to do, but you finally decide to react after everything falls into an awkward silence and they begin to look at you slightly confused by your lack of response.
Until you decide to be honest.
"Well, I-I…" you bite your lips, "I don't actually live with her," you admit in a soft voice, avoiding eye contact for a moment, "And I haven't seen her since I was six."
Slight concern crosses Alicent's face, instantly watching you in regret.
"Oh, I'm so sorry, sweetie," she says sincerely, embarrassed to have caused you discomfort, "I had no idea. I apologize."
You're about to tell her it's okay, that it's no problem because she didn't know, that it's no big deal, but you don't even get a chance to speak when sudden laughter is heard throughout the dining room.
The tension in the air dissipates in that instant as everyone turns to the source of the laughter, Aegon.
He is visibly drunk, but still conscious enough to know what is going on around him and that is what is alarming.
Alicent, Helaena and Aegon's faces fill with bewilderment and disapproval, except for yours, as you watch Aegon in confusion, not quite understanding what is going on.
"Aegon," Alicent calls to him now truly annoyed, watching him seriously and reproachfully.
But Aegon barely manages to contain his laughter as he apologizes between laughs.
"Sorry, I couldn't help it," he mutters, his tone full of amusement and insolence.
Then Aemond at your side watches him completely serious, his jaw clenched and his gaze dark, holding back his fury at his reaction after you shared a very intimate and sensitive piece of information to you.
And Aegon laughs at it because of his own stupidity? Of course he's not going to allow that.
"What's so funny?" he inquires, expectant and about to explode.
Aegon straightens in his chair, a smirk on his face.
"Oh, nothing," he replies mockingly, "I just think she and you are perfect for each other. Apparently, we're not the only ones who have parental issues, are we?"
He asks watching his mother and sister, which makes Alicent feel even more tense, watching you worried and apologetic about the little show her eldest son is putting on.
"That's enough," she reprimands him firmly.
But Aegon seems determined to move on and turns to you again with a gesture of camaraderie, ignoring his mother's words and his brother's attitude.
"Don't worry, Y/N," he tells you with a crooked smile, "You can talk about it here and no one will judge you. All of us would understand, wouldn't we? We who wouldn't know about the subject of fucking neglectful parents with their kids."
Aemond's gaze becomes even more intense and his jaw tighter, watching his brother as if he could throw daggers at him with his eye.
"Shut the fuck up," he orders him, controlling himself as much as he can at that moment.
"Aemond," Alicent calls out to him worriedly.
"Or what?" Aegon challenges him, "She better know what she's getting herself into once and for all. With our fucking family traumatized by her own father who never cared about us."
"I said shut the fuck up," Aemond demands of him rising from his chair, causing everyone at the table to become alarmed.
Alicent rises at about the same time he does, and Helaena rises next, alert and worried, while you and Aegon continue to sit, he still unconcerned and you… because you don't even know how to feel about it.
The tension is too much, this is all unexpected and it's all happening too fast. And as if things couldn't get any worse, Aegon continues to talk and drink more.
"I'm just saying you two are the perfect match," he continues, his tone increasingly amused, "She doesn't have a mom and you don't have a dad, bro. Awesome, isn't it?"
Then it all happens too fast.
Aemond advances towards Aegon with a furious determination on his face that puts everyone at the table on alert, reaches towards him and grabs him hard by the collar of his shirt, forcing him to get up.
"Aemond!"
Alicent and Helaena immediately intervene, rushing towards them to stop them, but Aegon doesn't even have time to react before he finds himself on his feet, with Aemond holding him tightly.
"Stop it, Aemond!" exclaims Alicent, his tone full of authority and concern.
You finally rise from your seat as well, alert and worried, not knowing exactly what to do or what to say, feeling your pulse racing.
Then Aegon reacts as well, his face transforming into one of rage, placing his hands on top of his brother's.
"Get your fucking hands off me," he manages to say with difficulty.
"I told you to shut the fuck up or didn't I?"
"Oh and now you're going to hit me? Huh?" he asks, punching him in the chest with his hands, "You're going to hit me? And for what? For telling the truth?"
"What the fuck is wrong with you huh!? You fucking cunt," Aemond hits him back in the chest.
"Let go of me, you fucking asshole!"
"That's enough!" Alicent intervenes again, her voice firm and full of authority, "Aemond, let go right now!" she orders, furious, implying that she won't repeat it a fourth time.
The tension in the room seems to increase with each passing moment, as you hold your breath, watching Aemond worriedly, as does Helaena.
Aemond hesitates for a moment, glaring at his brother with determination, until he finally releases him with a tug, pulling away from him still watching him in warning and utter annoyance.
Aegon straightens, rubbing his neck as he glares at his brother resentfully.
"I don't need this shit. Enjoy your fucking dinner," he says grumpily, grabbing his bottle of beer and heading for the stairs, not giving anyone a glance.
At least your pulse starts to calm down when you see how it's finally all over, but you still watch Aemond worriedly.
"I'm so sorry, sweetheart," Alicent turns to you sorrowfully, averting your gaze to her, "What a shame."
"No, no, don't worry…
You start to say in a soft tone when Aemond's serious but definitely kinder voice makes itself heard in your direction.
"I'll wait outside."
The three of you watch him silently and watch as with nonchalant gestures he takes his car keys from his front pocket and with his face still contained in fury, heads out of the house.
With a lump in your throat, you turn to Alicent and Helaena, feeling the weight of tension still hanging in the air even so.
"Thank you so much for dinner. It was nice to meet you," you say to Alicent, trying to sound as calm, gentle and kind as possible.
Alicent smiles sadly back at you, still with her saddened and troubled face.
"It was lovely to meet you and have you come, honey," she tells you sincerely, "Still I'm so sorry. It wasn't my plan for dinner to end like this."
"I totally understand, don't worry," you say with a small smile, "We can always do it again."
You say and immediately regret it, but manage to soften your face in time.
This was supposed to be the only time you would do this, but you feel you owe it to her, to Alicent, as she prepared a delicious dinner with great care. She seemed so excited and happy about everything, especially about you coming that it is such a shame that this happened.
More than anything else that's why you say so.
"Of course," she nods to you, kindly and cordially.
You bid her goodbye with a gentle hug, then embrace Helaena as well, conveying your silent support through the simple gesture.
"If you need to talk, we can do it at school," she murmurs in your ear before releasing you.
"Sure," you promise, returning the hug gratefully.
You take one last look at both of them and head out of the house. And once outside, you feel a shiver run down your spine as you face the cool night air.
And there you see him, in the middle of the night silence and at the edge of the street, leaning against his car, smoking a cigarette with an almost absent gesture, looking thoughtful but also still a little upset about what happened.
You watch as he lets the smoke go between his parted lips and you, letting out a long breath, head towards him.
When he looks back at you, you too just watch him silently and he wordlessly opens the driver's door with a soft squeak and gets in the car, so you follow after him, feeling the weight of silence between you.
You too slide into the passenger seat and close the door, where soon the two of you find yourselves moving through the quiet streets of the city, the music on the radio playing at a low volume in the background.
And that's the only sound between you, the music, and even then it's a little uncomfortable.
You bite the inside of your cheek, struggling to find the right words as the tension lingers, but you don't even know what to say. What are you supposed to say when that happened?
But finally it's Aemond who breaks the silence.
"I hope you enjoyed the show," he murmurs, not taking his eye off the road.
You are momentarily speechless, not knowing what to say at that, not even finding the right words in your mind. Then you let out a low sigh, understanding how he must be feeling.
You mean… you went to meet his mother, it was a family dinner, everything was going well and to suddenly have it all end like that with very personal confessions that you had no idea about… it must be completely frustrating for him that you witnessed that.
"Are you okay?" you ask him in a low, soft tone, watching him intently, concerned and understanding.
He lets out a long breath, pursing his lips as he considers your answer, saying nothing for a moment. But when he finally does, he says it in a voice laden with weariness, regret and seriousness.
"I'm not even upset that Aegon said all that… he… he's right," he says resentfully, "I'm upset that you had to witness it."
The weight of his words falls on you, sensing Aemond's seriousness and frustration in his words. You watch his serious and weary face, the fury he is still holding back.
And for a moment, you look like you're not going to say anything, but after biting your lips, you finally speak.
"You don't have to worry about me," you tell him in a soft voice, "After all, he was right about what he said about my mother too," you add, seeking to offer some comfort, "I don't even remember her, you know? And honestly… it doesn't affect me nor do I care."
If your words caused anything in him, he doesn't show it, as he continues with his eye focused on the road.
But inside, he can't help but feel a little surprised and amazed at your ability to accept those circumstances with such calm and determination compared to him.
And finally he nods, understanding the truth of your words.
"I'm sorry," he murmurs, his voice barely a whisper.
You watch him with a soft and… slightly thoughtful gaze, feeling the tension between the two of you finally begin to fade, resulting in a warm and pleasant atmosphere for the two of you, as usual.
And unexpectedly for him, you take his free hand gently and intertwine your fingers with his, offering a small gesture of support amidst still the frustration he is feeling.
"I don't," you confess softly.
You don't say anything else and neither does he, hoping you can put this behind you. And all along the way, he keeps gently stroking the back of your hand with his thumb.
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You wait anxiously, moving your foot repeatedly up and down, glancing from time to time at your surroundings and also at the screen of your phone, wanting to keep the time very much in mind.
The gentle morning breeze caresses your face, with the sun painting golden hues in the morning sky and listening in the background to the birds singing, but also all the movement of the soccer team training early at this hour from the field.
Everything seems to be calm, except for your racing heartbeat, where you avoid biting your nails and simply bite your lips in a nervous gesture, as well as the inside of your cheek.
Then you finally see Aemond approaching with his backpack on his shoulder and his face soft.
"Hey," he says softly, taking a seat in front of you, taking off his backpack and watching you carefully, "What's up? Is everything okay?"
Out of nerves, your whole body tenses and you avoid stuttering as you speak, stirring in your seat.
"Yeah, yeah, just…" you lower your gaze, playing with your fingers, "I just want to talk to you about something."
Aemond nods, giving you his full attention.
"Well? What is it?" he asks you warmly, not wanting to put pressure on you as he notices all the tension that is invading you at the moment.
But he honestly starts to worry seeing you that way.
And you swallow hard, with your gaze lowered, feeling the need to just let it out and nothing more, having that urge so you don't keep torturing yourself with your destructive thoughts.
"I was thinking that… maybe…" you let out a sigh, "Maybe we should stop this," you mutter, your voice barely a whisper.
And Aemond only watches you more intently, beginning to look alert, furrowing his brows in confusion.
"Stop what?"
You bite the inside of your cheek hard, completely flustered.
"Our fake relationship," you reply cautiously, watching him intently and with some concern.
"What?" he immediately queries you, "I-I don't-I don't understand."
"I think we've both accomplished what we wanted to… oh well, almost everything," you tell him knowingly, "But we've already put on a good show in front of the whole school, Alys is upset enough, and the cheating thing is behind us. We should stop."
You explain but in the middle of all your explanation, Aemond only frowns more, listening to you completely attentive, watching you surprised and incredulous.
"And the trip to Dragonstone?" he inquires you, with a serious and alert look, "That trip is key, it would be great for both of us to go together, as a couple."
You try to remain calm, but your heart is pounding and your nerves are getting the better of you.
"Yes, I know, but… do we really need to keep pretending?" you ask, "You've already saved your reputation, remember?"
Aemond shakes his head firmly, his jaw tense with mounting frustration.
"It's still not enough," he tells you seriously, "At least wait until after the trip."
"Aemond, I don't see why we should wait until then," you mutter, unsure, "We can finish everything now."
Aemond's expression hardens, his jaw tense with frustration as he tries to understand you.
"Y/N, the trip is in the contract," he tells you firmly, "And we agreed to finish everything until graduation."
You exhale, feeling the overwhelming weight of the situation that you didn't expect was going to get this bad the moment you decided to do this.
"I know, but I don't see the point of this anymore."
He becomes more confused, shaking his head, looking at you confused and now completely frustrated.
"What-what's wrong?" he asks you in a soft but urgent voice, attentive, "Did something happen?" he asks you concerned and interested, "Did something happen that I still don't know about?"
Oh God.
Fear grips you as you struggle to keep your composure and not let your nerves get the better of you.
"Or is this because of the dinner thing? And because of Alys' pranks?" he asks you worriedly, "If it's that, tell me. I-I'll find a way to fix it. You won't have to go to dinner at my house again and I'm sure I can talk to Alys."
"No, no… I-I…" you sigh, "It's not that-
He shrugs, looking at you confused and frustrated.
"Then what is it?"
Your heart pounds as you struggle to keep your composure in front of him.
Your words get stuck in your throat, enduring Aemond's still serious, worried and frustrated look on you, waiting for an explanation. But the feeling of panic grows in your chest and you resign yourself completely.
"Nothing, forget it," you say in a whisper, lowering your gaze.
You stand up and gather your things, slinging your backpack over your shoulder, just as Aemond sighs and looks more frustrated.
"Y/N," he calls your name in a tired gesture.
But you don't heed him, just focus on getting away from him,
"Y/N, please stop," he says to you in a soft but urgent voice.
But you don't stop, you can't.
How could you do it and how could you tell him that the real reason you decided to bring this up to your fake boyfriend is because maybe you are actually falling in love with him and the feeling is getting more and more intense, and you can't help it?
You just can't.
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geospiral · 2 months ago
Text
Taking a look at Mizi and Ivan as symbolic of Till’s desire for escapism vs. having to acknowledge the cruel reality he lives in:
When people think about Ivan and the idea that Till “never looked at him,” many people take this claim either in the literal sense or in the sense that Till was not appreciative of Ivan’s presence when he was still alive, both of which can be disproven with canon material. However, I want to take this idea and apply it in another way, of Ivan being the reality that Till does not want to acknowledge or face.
One of the most defining aspects of Ivan’s character is his rejection of idealism, to the point that you could honestly say that he leans towards nihilism. This is in great contrast to Mizi pre-Round 1, who was sheltered as a child and throughout most of her young adulthood, right up until the actual Alien Stage competition itself. The disconnect between these two and their worldviews can most readily be seen when comparing their intimacy levels with each other, with Ivan having a hard time relating to Mizi due to her innocence, whereas Mizi, although very fond of Ivan, seemingly only knows the version of him that he specifically curated and hid behind for the sake of survival.
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(Text: "Intimacy: 75%. A cool friend with a prince-like smile! The object of every child's admiration! Whenever I don't know something, he's always kind and teaches me.")
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(Text: "Intimacy: 30%. I like Mizi because she has a purity that is free of lies. As you get older, its natural to become pessimistic about your situation. But sometimes... its so bright it's difficult.")
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(Text screeshot taken from a previous post)
Till was most definitely a witness to the different faces Ivan wore, being one of only two people that Ivan let his mask down around. But Till knew Ivan even before he started actively masking, before their first fight even, when he saw Ivan small and beaten from his holding cell.
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Ivan is like Till’s shadow, ever present. Shown to us to almost always try to be by Till’s side even in his worst moments, especially in his worst moments. And while the two of them are friends, and I’m sure Till is glad that he doesn’t have to go through his ordeals completely alone, what comes with Ivan is an aching reminder of Till’s cruel reality. With Ivan there to care for Till in the aftermath of his mistreatments, there is now a witness that also carries the knowledge of what happened to him, and that can be both comforting and horrifying. These are no longer contained occurrences between Till and his abusers that Till can try and use escapism (Mizi) to ignore. Ivan knows and will always be by Till’s side, and so will the reality of Till’s circumstances.
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This isn’t to say that Ivan’s presence is a detriment to Till but far from it! Reality cannot be fully ignored; you must come to acknowledge what is or has happened to you and then go forward with that to try and see what can be done about it.
Which leads us to the meteor show incident.
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Till taking Ivan’s hand and leaving what he knows behind is NOT him ignoring reality but is him trying to escape from the constant abuse he suffers. Till should never have to “accept” the torture he is put through, and neither should anyone else who is in an abusive situation. The meteor shower escape attempt is simply a chance for something to be done about Till's circumstances—to leave and hopefully be able to live a life more independent and free away from the creatures and system that torments him, similar to Hyuna’s own escape.
It must be reiterated that in this moment, however, Till is leaving everything he knows behind, his entire life up until this point, and that scares him...
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Till letting go of Ivan’s hand isn’t as simple as “Till running back to his crush." It's Till not wanting to leave behind the most prominent source that he’s used to cope with basically everything in his life.
And obviously Till cares for Mizi as a person, but he also sees her as much more than that. She is his light in the dark; she is his hope—innocent and yet to be scarred by the world.
Till going back is NOT a failure on his part or something that he can be blamed for. It's sad, but also incredibly human and understandable. A lot of people would have probably gone back, choosing familiarity over the unknown. I probably would have gone back.
Talking about Round 6 now, it makes perfect sense how devastated Till is over Mizi’s disappearance. It's important to face reality, yes, but it's also important to have something to emotionally rely upon to get you through your darkest moments. Outside of Mizi, Till doesn’t really have anything that he uses to comfort himself; sure, he writes and draws, but he’s made those things about Mizi with her being his muse.
Till’s obsession with Mizi isn’t healthy, but it's also all he believes he has. Ivan is still there, of course, but he’s not like Mizi. Till could never view him in the same light as he does Mizi, but at least he’s still here. Him being the only one left, a reminder of all he's lost, sure, but he's still here.
Then he pulls his stunt, and he’s gone.
And Till, who had decided to give up in the absence of Mizi, is forced to really look.
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I don't have much to say about Round 7 because I'm not entirely sure how to feel about it yet, but I want to point out that Till didn't know that Mizi was trying to save him. When he was singing and fighting for his life on that stage, he was doing it for himself. He wanted to live! Despite everything he wanted to live, and the importance of that and that he was doing this for himself cannot be undersold.
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lightlycareless · 7 months ago
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Naoya's reaction when y/n's thighs expand 3 times its size when she sits down. For my girlie's that have thick thighs 🙏🙏 plus me. Serious insecurity but damn wouldn't that be Naoya's 2nd favourite thing after tiddies. Definitely would give some criticism that y/n don't exercise enough and that's why her thighs are like that,but would br also smother his face between her thighs? Yes
Hello anon!!
Ngl when I first read this ask (the beginning) I was like HUH? But then I read the rest and was like ugh same. I kind of relate to what you feel, that plus chafing and what not 💀
ANYWAYS I hope you enjoy this debauched piece. :) ehehehe dunno what was going through my head but I liked it.
warnings: NSFW. THOUGH NOT DETAILED, THERE'S SMUT. MINORS DNI. Naoya and the Zen'in are perverts, some more explicit than others. Also misogynistic views, unwanted commentary about bodies.
Happy reading!
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You know what I was thinking?
Naoya being so obsessed with your body, that the moment he sees you he doesn’t even bother to make formal introductions or anything; nope.
He just needed to see you sit down one time, one time, unwittingly getting a very detailed look of how your thighs just become bigger underneath your skirt, alongside the adorably cute way you attempted to tug the edge down to avoid revealing too much (Naoya had seen more than enough at that point, of course he did.) and that was it for him to know you’d be the perfect wife.
So, fast forward a few weeks, after making the right arrangements, you’re effectively married to him, “happily” living in the Zen’in estate, where he can keep an eye on you, close to whenever he might need to make use of your wifely commitments—but most importantly, underneath constant scrutiny that not even your role as future Lady of the House could save you from.
The torments you’re subjected to here aren’t ones you haven’t heard before, in fact, you’ve heard enough of them to not care anymore…
But perhaps being married to Naoya, something that many cautioned would probably never happen due to your appearance, was enough to finally make them hurt.
His family just couldn’t… wrap their mind around the fact that from all women in the world, literally anyone else, he chose you: the epitome of laziness as they’d like to say. The sheer example of not being able to control one’s selfish desires in favor of temporary satisfaction.
In a world where thinner, athletic physiques were encouraged, you sure stood out like a sore thumb.
It wasn’t your fault, though. Some people were simply born that way, with different genetics and there was nothing wrong with that.
But to them, that was not enough of an excuse, if there ever was one; and once you heard for the last time how Naoya was simply tolerating you because, well, because of some unknown reason, you had enough.
You were tired of constantly hearing them belittling your worth, comparing you to whichever woman they brought along to hopefully convince Naoya into divorcing you—or at least sow his seeds on a more suitable candidate; a fact made worse when he seemingly didn’t put a resistance to their invitations, chipping away at your confidence.
And above all, you were exhausted of unwittingly highlighting the faults in your relationship, the clear signs that Naoya was never truly happy with you, such as those scarce moments of intimacy the two shared. Those that you didn’t think much of, outside of fear and pain, for he never struck you to be the kind, patient lover (and he wasn’t).
But now that these issues were highlighted… you could only feel sorrowful.
Naoya, while insatiable when it comes to lust, seemed to have only spent the night with you for political reasons. To fulfill his duty of securing the future of the Zen’in—not because he ever harbored desire for you.
Yet, why did you even expect otherwise? For he too demeaned you with cruel commentaries, and with the one thing you were mostly self-conscious about…
“You know, your thighs wouldn’t be that big if you actually worked out or something…”
“Don’t wear that. I don’t want you to show your legs—it’s already unbefitting a woman, but in your case… well, it’s only necessary.”
That was more than enough to finally push you to the edge and do the one thing many were constantly pestering you about: not to eat. Though in your defense, it’s not like you felt like doing so anyways, the voices and faces of those that hurt you were quick to put you back in your place if you even did as little as consider it, ruining your appetite.
And you managed to keep this way for a few days, at least until you began to grow sick, tired, unable to tend to your duties as you did before, which did not escape your staff’s attention, and subsequently, Naoya’s.
“What the fuck is wrong with you??” Naoya would exclaim first thing upon returning from a mission; tired. The last thing he wanted to do was deal with the complaints of your lacking commitment, the only goddamn thing you had to do around the estate. “To go ahead and cause problems to my family, taint my name—have you got no shame?!”
“I didn’t mean to…” you murmur, yourself tired as well, due for other reasons, made worse by Naoya’s reproach.
“Then do you mind explaining what the hell were you thinking? What were you planning to do? Get my attention??” He frowns. “Dramatic, but what else could I expect from a woman like you?”
“Please, Naoya… I don’t feel like arguing…”
“No, of course not. You don’t feel like doing anything, do you? Not even eating!” He remarked. “What? Trying to lose some weight, now? Is that what’s gotten into your mind?”
You remain silent, giving him enough of an answer. He laughs.
“So it is that!” He boasts. “I can’t believe it, Y/N! I didn’t think you’d be so stupid to actually do that!”
“Leave me alone…” you whisper, tears beginning to pool around your eyes.
“To what? Puke your guts out, now? Don’t be stupid!” Naoya continues to jest. “I knew women were desperate, but I didn’t think you’d break the mold!”
His words, perhaps out of your already brewing insecurities, or simply because you’ve grown tired of his mockery, wash you over with an unprecedented wave of anger, dropping your heart to the pit of your stomach as you sharply turn around, ready to take a stand for yourself once and for all.
“And why do you care so much, hm, Naoya?!” You cry. “Weren’t you also one of those that always bothered me about my weight? About how embarrassing I am to your name simply because of the way I look?!”
He flinches, startled by your reaction at first, but soon angered by it as well.
“I won’t tolerate your disrespect—” he frowns, yet you don’t let him continue.
“You even ask me to cover myself up!” you gasp. “You’re so—you’re so disgusted by how I look that you—you wouldn’t mind if I spent the rest of my life locked away so you won’t ever have to see—”
“Do you hear yourself?” Naoya seethes, taking your hand and pulling you to him with such strength that instantly startles you, making you squirm in reaction, trying to move away but he keeps you still, understanding you’ve officially made him furious. “Do you hear the stupidities you’re spewing?!”
“Leave—leave me alone.” You whimper, tears sliding down your cheeks. “You’re hurting me!”
“I ought to hurt you more for insulting me!”
“Insulting… you?” you repeat, confused. “How was this insulting to you?!”
“You think I’d let you walk around the estate like a whore? Let you display what’s mine?!”
“Naoya, you’re not—you’re not making any sense.” You respond, shame settling in your heart. “If you’re going to make fun of me—!”
“You’re fucking stupid, did you know that?” Is all that he says before pushing you against the wall, making you whimper when roughly hitting the wooden pillar behind, a noise that is quickly shut by his lips landing on yours, wasting no time for his tongue to battle yours, subduing you. “So fucking stupid…”
He’d murmur, you moan.
“Na—Naoya—” you breathe, torn apart by his desire and your confusion. Didn’t he… dislike you? “St—stop!”
“What is it that you wanted me to do? Stand aside as my family ogles at you?!”
“Don’t you mean—don’t you mean scrutinize?!” you gasp, flinching when his lips move from yours, down to your jaw, then neck… “Stop—stop mocking me!”
“I should feel offended by your stupidity, if anything.” He responds, pulling away from you to take a good look into your teary eyes—as if trying to assess if you really declared such atrocity, or if it was work of his own anguished mind. “Your blindness to acknowledge what I truly think of you.”
“They—they hate me.” You tremble, why would he want you to remember such an awful thing? “You hate me—”
“No, Y/N.” Naoya groans, pressing closer to you while taking your hand once more to move it down to his groin where his hardening cock was in full display for you to feel, destroying the perceptions you had of everything around you—around him. “This is what you make them feel— what you make me feel!”
“Nao—Naoya—” you tremble, trying to move away your hand from his growing length, intimidated that he somehow felt even bigger underneath your palm; giving the impression his desire for you right now was much stronger than any other instances. But… how? Or more likely, Why? “I don’t—I don’t get it—!”
“Do you really think I’d be blind to the way they stare at you? To their futile attempts of bringing you down, of changing you, just so they’d stop thinking what your skin feels like underneath their fingertips—or how sweet your cunt tastes like?” Naoya breathed, continuing to rub your hand against his cock, desperate to let you know how much he needs his release—how he wants to throw this senseless discussion away…
But not without declaring his upper hand, the one he always had with his family, of course. “But they can’t” He smirks. “The moment I saw you, I knew you’d be the perfect wife, the perfect mother for my children.”
The thought of harboring such desire from Naoya made your cunt tighten, the same way his cock twitches.
“They’re just jealous I got to you first.” He continues. “That I was able to see your worth just by your wide hips and ample bosom—you’re the epitome of femininity… but even better—
You’re all mine.”
“But you—but you said horrible things to me—” you cry, his lascivious words still not enough to remove the pain from those awful moments. “Why…?”
“Aw, my love.” Naoya chuckles, cupping your face with his hands and squeezing it so softly, making you pout, a face he always loved to incite from you, amongst others. “I just can’t help it; your reactions are so adorable; you simply make it too easy.”
His hands then travel down to the edges of your skirt, lifting your kimono just enough to reveal your smooth legs to him, the same ones he always had touch and kneed whenever you were close, the mere sight of them enough to make him further spiral into his desire—
If not anger when seeing the flimsy piece of cloth covering your cunt, fingers quick to grab the edge and rip it apart, letting out a quick gasp from your mouth.
“How many times have I told you to stop wearing these stupidities?!” He hisses. “You know damn well than to go against the words of your own husband!”
“But you—you hadn’t touched me.” You fret. “Since that night, we… you hadn’t—I didn’t think it was necessary.”
“You truly couldn’t be any dumber, could you? Just because I’ve been busy does that mean you can go on and disobey my words?” Naoya accuses with a jesting tone that serves to place the direction of his following actions. “My lovely wife is really that naive… luckily for you, I’m the one in charge of doing all the thinking, while you—you just have to stay like this, ready for me…
To take my cock like the good whore of a wife you are, with that lewd body of yours that is only mine. Exclaiming for me to give you a baby, make you a mother, make your hips wider, your breasts bigger, filled milk—”
And the way your body tightens against him, letting out a moan when his hands parted your legs, guiding his cock onto your dampened slit and gently pushed the head into you, let’s him know this desire has settled in the back of your mind for quite some time, but never revealed itself by the stupidities of his own family, his too undeniably.
But after these agonizing days away from you, forced so by his job, if not those insignificant whores his family brought in an attempt to push him away from you, failing to do so for he quickly discarded them as soon as they crossed his sight…
He’ll never let the opportunity to claim you pass again.
Naoya will do whatever necessary to drill that idea into that little, pathetic mind of yours, even if it means fucking you in the middle of the hallway, where all servants and relatives alike would be able to hear his message loud and clear.
The reality they could only dream of in their most desperate moments—but to him, it was only a matter of taking.
“Naoya—Naoya please—not here.” You whimper, your husband had effectively forced you onto the ground and made you take his cock, either from behind, hands and knees on the wooden floor as he teased and kneaded your ass and hips; he was an avid enjoyed of many positions, but this one had to be one of his favorite ones. To see your skin bounce whenever his hips slammed into you, savoring the way your lewd cunt swallowed him whole, down to the base, with no intentions of letting go, regardless of what you said, it was surprising he still had some restraint. “Please—they’re—they’re going to see!”
“Let them.” Naoya moans, the thought of being caught sends a shiver through his spine; and while it’s not something he necessarily advocated for, the constant, tiring need to be proving his authority over you is what forced him to do so. You might as well play along. “Let them hear how tight your cunt is around my cock! How only I can make you come undone like this—”
“N—No—I don’t—I don’t want…!” you whimper, but even when he changed positions, having you on top of him, giving him sight of the breasts he couldn’t wait to see grow when you’re inevitably pregnant, you still do not stop jumping on his cock, moving your hips up and down alongside his, clenching whenever hitting that sensitive spot that always had you seeing stars. “I don’t want to cum—!”
“Then maybe—Maybe you shouldn’t have this lewd body.” Naoya moans, truly believing that he would never be able to stop himself from using every inch of your body for his own pleasure—from fucking his cock between your soft thighs and boobs, admiring the way they completely cover his cock, drowning it in a combination of softness and his own seed, barely able to see where the tip of his head was…
To relieve that same sensation with his own face, asking you—no, demanding you to smother him with your thighs, a sensation that has him thinking if he were to die this way, cock hard, eased by your soft licks and moans, while deep in the sweet taste of your cunt, he wouldn’t mind it, not one bit.
In fact, he hopes that’s the way he goes.
But he’s in no rush to avoid enjoying the present, the warmth of your body besides him when the two eventually stop, careless to acknowledge if they ever gathered an audience, certainly so when Naoya’s mind was firmly set in getting you pregnant, as heard by his following words.
“I’ll see you tonight.” He declares. “It’s about time you give me a heir.”
And you do nothing but oblige, though you doubted all the cum nestled inside your cervix hadn’t done the job already.
“Naoya, you’re—oh!” You gasp when instead of waiting for you to stand up to properly greet him, he lowers down to your level, taking a seat before eventually resting his head over your lap, taking a deep sigh and resting for the first time after a long week of work. “Is… everything alright?”
In fact, you relished the idea. If it meant getting this side of Naoya’s desire, attention you didn’t think to be deserving of, or even capable of obtaining…. Then you were nothing but obedient.
“I’m tired.” He responds, adjusting himself into an even better position and sighing once more. “I don’t want to talk.”
So, you don’t, preferring instead to softly caress his head, moving some of his silky black threads away from his face and letting him relax, enough to dive into the beginnings of his slumber, but not before clearing his mind from one doubt.
“Our baby—”
“He’s fine.” You murmur, placing your hand over your stomach. It’s still very early during the pregnancy to know so, and yet, there was something about you that just made it so obvious that you were carrying a life inside you—
Perhaps it was the way you glowed, or how you became softer with him ever since it was first announced.
Though the latter was mostly the fact that you started to feel… wanted by your husband, a kind of desire that while far from perfect, was enough for you to change your perspective of this marriage, allowing you to open up to him, mostly so when Naoya now defended you from those unwanted comments from his family.
You’re carrying the future of the Zen’in, after all, some decorum must be maintained.
Yet something tells you his changed demeaner ran far deeper than what Naoya wanted to reveal. «All in due time» you suppose.
“I love you, and our baby too.” You say, instinctively taken by this calm moment of domesticity with your loving husband, not expecting a response considering his somewhat cold nature—only to be proven wrong when he turns around to see you, silently placing his gaze on yours in such way that initially makes you think you might’ve ruined this moment, just for him to pull you closer to him, taking your lips in a soft, quick kiss before returning to your lap, closing his eyes and sleeping.
He may not have said it, but the sentiment was the same, and that was enough for you to be happy.
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Naoya is still a jerk, but I like to think he eventually got to genuinely care about you. Also, he got real lucky that one time he thought with his dick, imagine if you were a piece of shit too? NAH He'd lose it. He got real lucky that you were nice, I tell you...
Also, I'm still with the pregnancy stuff :) sorrynotsorry.
OH! and also!! It's safe to say that the things Naoya said are NOT a reflection of what I think!! Everybody is beautiful and deserving of love, no matter what body type ❤️
Now, thank you so much for sending this niche ask... I gotta say, I have been thinking about it since I do relate to it............... but I try to keep my work pretty open-ended so anyone can relate :) Still, if there's something you'd like me to write a bit more detailed, just let me know! I'll be sure to try my best tho, some I might reject if I don't feel like I know much about the matter....
Anyways, thank you so much for this ask ❤️ take care, and hope to see you soon ❤️
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