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bxlladxnnabxtch · 4 months ago

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Devotion & Deceit

Rhysand x Reader

❀🇲🇦🇸🇹🇪🇷🇱🇮🇸🇹❀

Summary: Upon learning Rhysand intends to go through with his proposal, you begin to deteriorate. Your mates complete disregard for your concerns leaves you making some brash decisions of your own.

Read pt.1 to Devotion & Deceit - HERE

Read pt.4 - HERE

Warnings: Descriptions of trauma, Panic Attacks, Blood, Depression, Brief mentions of self harm.

You weren’t able to get up out of bed, and despite Azriels visits and multiple attempts, he couldn’t get you up either. Even though the majority of your time was spent in the small bedroom of that log cabin, very little time was spent actually sleeping in it. The miniscule amount of sleep you did get was broken by you jolting awake in the dead of night only to cry until the sun peaked through the cracks of the drapes that remained closed no matter what time of day.

The meals that Azriel brought to you remained ignored and untouched on the nightstand, to be removed by him the next day with a fresh platter in the hopes that you would at least pick through it. On occasion the smell would have you scrambling for the toilet, thin figure peeled over the side as you dry heaved into the bowl. The meals eventually reduced to small snacks the more often it happened, making you feel the slightest hint of guilt which only had you burrowing further into the sheets.

Niliana’s best efforts didn’t seem to shake you either, she’d come by to give you the latest spiel of the gossip in town, or brush out your hair as you laid in bed. She came by every day for the better part of a month, until the work she put off caught up to her, sending the wraith scrambling to catch up. She no longer came by.

Rhys hadn’t sent a word down the bond. Not a flicker of emotion, pain, even a thought. Just.. nothing. He was completely shut off from you. Not like you could complain, you did the exact same to him, going completely MIA.

“Have you two spoken?” Azriel said from the doorway, a glass of water in hand along with a small rag that undoubtedly held more food he wanted you to shove down your throat. Azriel sighed as he saw your eyes fall on the item, a grimace gracing your features. You muttered a soft “no” as he padded towards the bed, hand outstretched in a silent plea for you to sit up.

You groaned, sitting up as you rubbed your eyes, the dark circles surrounding them making you look like you had taken a beating. “I need to change anyways.” You croaked; voice rough as you swung your legs over the side of the bed.

You had visibly lost weight, your legs looking like if you look a step they’d crack under the pressure. You couldn’t bring yourself to care even the slightest bit. Ever since he had chosen her. Left his mate to rot in this stupid log cabin as if you meant nothing to him. Chose her again just like he did Under the Mountain, while Amarantha forced you to watch every night as she danced for him in that skimpy little outfit. But even then, you understood, then you knew that he was doing it for you- doing what was necessary.

What you didn’t understand was this. It had ended, you had run to him in that arena like you had wanted to for fifty years. You had clung to him like he was your lifeline. Five decades of Amarantha using you as her slave, only allowing you to see Rhys when he was tangled up with her. Always by her side.

And he had chosen someone else over you- yet again.

Azriel broke your thoughts by holding out the glass to you, and you rose from the bed, taking it in your frail hands, slightly shaky from the lack of vitamins. You brought it to your mouth, letting the chill of the glass rest on your bottom lip as you swallowed a few mouthfuls of the liquid. It didn’t go down easy, the cold making you recoil slightly as you swallowed the last bit.

You turned back to hand the glass back to Azriel, but he was frozen, face pale as he looked at you. His shadows swarmed him, moving around him in a frenzy, curling towards his ears, flicking around his waist. He stared at the glass you held out to him, and you slowly retracted your hand as you realize he was too caught up in whatever his shadows were whispering to him.

Your face fell, and the corners of your mouth downturned into a poorly concealed frown. “Is she there?” You asked, the question falling out of you before you could do anything to stop it, not that you could’ve. You didn’t know why you needed to know so bad, your body ached with the question, your hand gripping the glass tighter in an unexplainable want. His mouth opened like he was going to speak, but immediately shut closed as he hesitated. He didn’t need to say it, you knew.

You knew, you always knew.

Something in you snapped, and like a cage being unlocked, a fiery, all-consuming fury burst through the bars and swallowed you whole. The feeling swamped you like a tidal wave, your arm cocking back, barely feeling the glass slipping from your grasp as you sent it soaring straight at the wall.

The glass shattered immediately upon impact, the sound breaking the comforting stillness of the room, making Azriel flinch. Shards of glass and remnants of water were blown back at you, but you couldn’t bring yourself to care as you felt the water drench the front of your shirt. The cloth stuck to your ribcage, the frigid wetness not registering in the slightest. You felt a shard slice your cheek open as it grazed you, and other bits of glass embed themselves into you as you heard the tinkle of the pieces falling to the floor, a few skittering across the ground.

“I’M NOT STAYING HERE!” You roared, hands coming to cradle your head, hands fisted in your hair. You pulled at the roots, clung to them like they’d offer some grain of comfort as your breathing began to speed up. The room was spinning, everything was spinning.

And you were Under the Mountain again- you were cold and wet. It was dark, your cell was too small. You could feel the dirt and grime and how it was caked under your fingernails like the dust had engraved itself onto you. Your matted hair and the feeling of the violent tugs as you ripped it out. But that was your hair- you could feel it between your fingers. You couldn’t breathe- God, why couldn’t you breathe.

“Get your shit together!” Azriel yelled, jolting you as he forced you to stop spiraling, hands clamping down on your wrists as you stilled. His grip dug into your skin, and you finally surfaced from the hurricane in your head enough to realize you were holding clumps of your hair in your hands. The thin strands hung from your fingers like a morbid Solstice decoration, and you vaguely recognized the sting that told you that you had bitten through your bottom lip in your haste.

You stared at him wide eyed, feeling the burn of your tears leaking into the cut on your cheek. You flinched as you felt a drop of blood hit your forearm, and looked down soon enough to watch the crimson run down the expanse towards your elbow. It stained your skin, and you watched as another drop landed right beside it. You were bleeding, you could feel as it ran down your cheek, over your jaw, mingling with the blood that dripped from your lip down your chin.

“Do you think if you destroy yourself enough that he’ll come save you like he did for Feyre?”

It dawned on you then, just how much you had ruined yourself. You had turned into the very thing you had hated Feyre for. The very thing that had Rhys tripping over himself to go and fix, just like he did for her Under the Mountain.

Yet he didn’t come for you.

“I can’t stay here.” You whispered, bottom lip trembling.

“Then you won’t.” Azriel said, letting go of your wrists.

Azriel had helped you calm down and think of what you were going to pack, not that you were taking much with you, the very idea of having anything to remind you of your time here made you want to throw up whatever was left in your stomach. You settled for a small change of clothes, your hands smoothing over the wrinkles as you folded the articles.

“Have you even decided where you’re going?” Azriel asked as he perched on the bed beside you. You shoved the small shirt you were folding into your bag, eyes trailing over to him as he waited on your answer. The drapes had been opened after your breakdown, making the light glint off Azriel’s siphons as he shifted, hands coming to perch on his knees. You shrugged, eyes stinging the slightest bit as they still needed time to adjust to the newly introduced light that you’d been avoiding for weeks. “Home.” You answered simply, finishing shoving your change of clothes into the small pack you now slid over your shoulder.

Azriel bristled, head cocking back as he questioned “The Winter Court?” The dresser at the corner of the room suddenly became very interesting as he made no attempt to hide his concern. “Yep.” You licked your lips, tongue smoothing over the teeth marks that had made a small crater in your bottom lip, the indent making you sigh. “That’s one hell of a flight.” You tucked your knife into the sheath on your thigh, the metal making a grating sound against the studded leather that had you cringing. “It’s not like I could winnow in if I wanted to.”

It's there, then that perhaps Azriel had begun to understand your insatiable need to flee. To leave everything that you had created, the life you’d built, everything that you are. Maybe he had sensed it subconsciously when he had found you that day on the border of the Night Court.

Azriel knew why you couldn’t winnow, it had always been a silent understanding between you two, and exactly the reason he hadn’t touched on it when your training had begun all those years ago. Not that you had gone into detail about what had happened in the middle, what you went through during your journey. But with Azriel being a spymaster, it hadn’t taken him long to fill in the blanks. He knew enough, and he had decided he didn’t need to know anymore- didn’t want to.

But even after you had gotten so used to running, the instinct carved so deep into your blood not even The Mother could undo it, he still had a small pit of anxiety sitting in his stomach that never quite went away. It was out of love, out of an uncontainable fear that history would repeat itself that he swished his hand over towards you, a shadow stirring to life, swirling around your waist and anchoring itself to you.

You watched how it swam and twirled around you, scurrying up your hand and over your arm. “Really?” You had asked, a light, barely there hint of amusement twinged your tone, and he rolled his eyes in response. But when he turned to you, his expression was deadly serious, almost concerned. This man, who had cared for a scared, young Illyrian girl who had somehow crawled her way to the border. Who had taught her how to fly, how to live, how to control the magic that wanted to burst out of her as if it was overflowing. He looked up at you, lips pursed. “You might see her again, you know.” He said, barely a murmur, almost scared that the words he spoke would conjure them to life.

Your eyes flickered to him as you shoved the last dagger into your boot at your heel. “That’s the plan.”

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gangplanksorenji · 11 months ago

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Kinknuary Day 1: Breeding

Pairing: aespa Winter x Male Reader

Word Count: 4,471

[Kinknuary Masterlist]

A/N: Happy birthday to Winter!! This will be her birthday fic as it's intentional to put her as the introductory of the series since it's also her day!

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“God, that’s an awful one.”

It definitely wasn’t atrocious in your opinion, but it’s the opposite with her—she barely appreciated something that much about the movie and it’s nothing new, honestly. Minjeong is hard to impress, and it almost feels like a fever dream if she turned around, her interest piqued or even the slightest of a smile induced on that sternly, beautiful face of hers. You know a couple of things to break that attitude down in the slightest but nothing was ever close and you didn’t care about it because you’re treating her, not the other way around. Sure, she appreciates your efforts but you know it was never enough and you hate it.

“At least you’ve watched the movie I want, Minjeong.”

“But it’s horrible! At least I didn’t get bored by you rubbing my thighs—”

“Minjeong, not here! You damn know we’re still in public, right?”

On how many times you’d told her to calm her nerves down in public is how many times she’d disregarded your scolding, acting like the biggest brat and the most seductive vixen you’ve been with.

Your relationship with Minjeong… isn’t the best but god, it’s always a wild and interesting ride.

For starters, it’ll be such a nuisance with all of the complaints and random whimpers from her in someone’s perspective and it is true, she’s truly annoying and hard to deal with—almost like a child trapped in a woman’s body. Yet, you got the grip of her and read her like a book, absolutely knowing what she loves and doesn’t but it’s not always the best of things coming to her end.

She may seem like a douche but honestly, she's thoughtful and the complete opposite of that. It also doesn’t help the fact that she lived most of her life with such luxury that it’s almost peak-sophistication and even with you, she feels the same.

With the days you're down, she’s there to comfort you as you do with her and that’s why you’ll always cherish every moment with her, even with the most embarrassing and the silliest ones.

Her perfect imperfections, it’s pristine and broken yet so beautiful…

“You can’t stop me, daddy.”

“Yeah, I can’t.” you mutter upon yourself as she’s trying to push your buttons once again. Knowing things may get out of control, you didn’t want to waste some time trying to deal with her and instead, coursed the way towards your vehicle, leading the way. With just mere two minutes of walking, you swiftly approached your vehicle, opening the front passenger door as a gentlemanly act towards Minjeong as she chuckled softly, flustered from your actions as you got onto your seat too in a rush.

“What do you want, Minjeong?”

“I’m just so tired, daddy—let’s just go home to your place. I love it there! It’s so cozy and it smells so fruity and flowery…”

And she’s luring you to fall into her trap again, probably. This wasn’t the plan all along—both of you should part ways after escorting Minjeong on her way home—yet there’s maybe something in her mind that can possibly worsen or make everything better even though it was.

As much as you can read her, she’s an unpredictable woman and that’s what makes her unique—unique enough for you to fall in love.

“Well, I thought you were going home? Isn't this enough?”

“Well—” Minjeong clicks her tongue, smiling not-so-sarcastically as she lets you know how serious she is with her decision. “—your Minjeongie changed her mind—and don’t tell me you don’t want me!”

Minjeong’s minuscule noise and tone of annoyance is as adorable as her pristine beautiful face, and you can’t help but giggle because of her cute act.

“Yah! I never said anything that I don’t want you—” You then kissed her cheek and ran your hands onto her silky dark-brown locks as she blushed from your subtle actions. She finds it endearing with you, reassuring her as she feels the utmost affection that she always loved. “—besides, I even love that idea better…”

“Stop it…” Minjeong lightly punches your shoulder as she feels weakened with your affection towards her.

“Well, besides—” You adjust your position to further look into her with a better angle, further appreciating her flawless features and for you to have a better conversation with her. “—there’s no one is this world that can stop us, Minjeongie.”

Caress her hair playfully and then run your finger slowly down her cheek as you finish your sentence that implies the utmost adoration—

“I want you for me, tonight, and no else.”

Minjeong inches her face closer towards yours as her eyes scanned your face, her mouth curling up a smirk and her hand cupping your cheek gently, letting you know how she adores you too.

“I feel the same too… I want you and you only.”

Unable to contain the built-up intimacy from earlier, she initiated a torrid kiss in which you were caught off-guard but your instinct made you reciprocate quickly enough before you even truly noticed. Pecks and sounds of little-to-none discomfort, as well as pleasure can be heard resonating around the car. You feel yourself falling down to the deep abyss again, constantly drowning into the sea of intimacy yet you swim away, forcing yourself to pull out not because you’re out of breath but because you wanted to go home with Minjeong as soon as possible.

“But I wanted more!”

“When we get to your place, we could spend the entire night doing this—or maybe even more, Minjeong…”

As much as wanted to disagree and derive you onto her wants, she can’t blame you with that as you absolutely had a point. Both are deprived of each other’s taste, and both of you want to savor it on full-comfort and ease—at Minjeong’s home.

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Scrambled and scuffed, probably the best way to describe Minjeong’s bedroom right now as the clothing is just everywhere—to god knows where they are and you absolutely didn’t care about it. The two of you didn’t want any foreplay or any teasing involved yet you know that Minjeong isn’t like that, so she herself has something to hold you over while you’re absolutely just with your boxers.

“So needy for me, Minjeongie…”

“Can’t help myself, daddy and besides—” She moans ever-so-slightly as you continue peppering her neck with kisses that makes her world rock on how full of heat and love each peck has. “—I can’t control myself whenever you’re around…”

And the feelings are mutual towards each other. You know how needy and submissive she can get whenever she’s in her vulnerable position and as much as you want her to strip teases you, you can’t help but take a glance and appreciate the beauty behind her glamorous outfit.

“By the way, Minjeong, I don’t if I said this already but—” Minjeong’s puppy-like eyes was all in your sight, anticipating something that will come out of your mouth as you smile and caressed her hair. “—you look stunning and perfect in this outfit. I love it so much…”

As you were peppering her neck with more kisses of affection, she can’t help but moan and blush with your compliment, knowing how much you adored her look today.

“T-thank you—ahh, daddy. I’ve always wanted to be the most beautiful girl in your eyes whenever we meet. So I—ahh, always put effort on make-up—”

“Minjeong—” You move towards her, your face just inches closer to her as you tilt her chin, making her look up to you, dead in the eyes. “—there’s no other girl that’s more beautiful than you, alright? You’re my everything and everything that I need.”

Minjeong flashes that beautiful grin, her eyes almost half-lidded with the genuine smile she’s emanating, feeling the utmost adoration. She then stole a kiss with your lips and you immediately reciprocate with it, running your hands down her jacket and removing it off her arms as the other palms her stupendous curves of her waist while the kiss gets heated, riling up immediately to the tongue action that the both of you missed. While you were busy with your intimate kiss with Minjeong, she herself already got her dress off in a single, swift motion while you could only feel her dress brushing against your arms. She looked great on it but it would be better with it off her scrumptiously slender body so you didn’t care and continued the heat that was ignited earlier before you even got home.

“Daddy…”

“Yes?”

Minjeong slowly courses her hand on your abdomen and then, near your clothed crotch in which you instantly know what she wants but you still prefer to have it her way—she may want something else or more than what you’re thinking.

“I need this inside me. Please, daddy…”

The way she pleads with her glistening orbs and her pouty mouth never fails to make you weak, and behind that pure countenance of hers is the lustful and wanton needs that should be attended immediately. You knew that this may happen before you even met her today and whenever she’s horny (especially when she’s with you), her heat can’t be stopped and must be fulfilled immediately or things will break loose. Loose in both ways, can either be good or bad but there’s nothing to worry about as the both of you heated up the atmosphere with another torridly intimate kiss.

While you’re busy pecking her beautiful lips, she swiftly ran her hands onto your stiffened rod and stroked it slowly, earning a subtle moan from your lips in which she smiled knowing how much it turned you on in an instant. She continued doing this for seconds until you stopped her, earning a small whimper and a cute sulk from Minjeong. With her panties now off, down to her ankles, you brushed your tip against her dripping folds, earning the sultriest moans escaping Minjeong’s mouth.

“Please, d-daddy—ahh! Fuck me like how I deserve it—”

“How do you think you deserve it, Minjeong, hm?”

She just whimpers uncontrollably within every oscillation your hips do, brushing so gently on her folds as she can’t think straight or anything articulate. Within every tease earns the mellowest of pleas that can absolutely make you give in to your deepest carnal desires but you resist, your iron will holding yourself up, dealing with your own dominant trait against Minjeong.

“L-like—daddy, ahh—uhm, l-like a g-good girl?”

You continue with your teases until you had enough and plunged your whole length immediately without even warning her—

“We’ll see about that, baby—but for now, you better take me like a good girl and I’ll—” You bring in a spank that marks an imprint onto that porcelain skin, making her cry and groan from the pain and from your leisure pace of thrusts. “—fill you up, okay? My poor little Minjeongie… So needy…”

Of course, you aren't just going to fuck her slow without doing anything more than that, so without wasting any time, you pull her into another hot kiss as immediately reciprocates. You’ll never get tired of tasting the succulent flavor of her lips as you were addicted to it right away—the feelings are mutual so it wasn’t really hard for Minjeong to comply and get into the same boat as you. Pulling out of the embrace of her lips on yours, she breathes heavily right after and so do you, catching air as your eyes wander around her smooth, pristine skin of her collarbones and neck. You didn’t hold back on your temptation as you immediately latched onto it, peppering it with multiple kisses that elevates the urge inside you on increasing the pace of your thrusts but you maintained your earlier composure, giving her your utmost intimacy with maximum pleasure and moderation.

Minjeong’s moans are so heavenly, encapsulated with its own primal call and utmost adoration with how you’re treating her as it pumps the fuel of animalistic urges. It’s hard to maintain such a moderate pace whenever Minjeong pleads with her soft-toned voice and the lewdest sounds possible—you eventually feel yourself giving in, slowly intensifying your thrusts and you don't bother to slow it down.

“Look at me, baby.” You said with all-seriousness and a demanding tone yet you know how Minjeong can’t really focus because of the peak pleasure she’s been experiencing that’s completely a sight to see, for you, at least. “Minjeong, look at me!” Another call and she responded yet without her eyes being full of tense and her breaths ragged as each thrusts is too much to take yet so enchanting to feel.

And then, she slowly averted her glistening orbs, pupils dilating from anticipation as you muttered: “I’ll definitely fill you up to the hilt, okay?”

Your eyes ignite with lust as you groan in pain yet pleasure drives you onto your craziest cravings of desire, as you quickly follow up what you’ve said: “You like the thought of me painting your walls white, hm, Minjeong?”

She whimpers, biting her lip as she’s starting to lose herself because of so much pleasure. “I l-love—gahh-ahh—it, daddy! Please c-cum—gahh—inside m-me!”

Minjeong’s moans orchestrate such melodies that pleases your ears and further fuels your arousal, skyrocketing it up to the point every thrust you do inside her, you groan in tempo with it (your thrusts) and with how much her tight cunt clenches around your shaft just puts gasoline on the flames of lust. You didn’t let her catch a break as your pace finally wildens after like three minutes of a slow and steady one and you could feel the sudden spike of pleasure coursing down your veins. The view of Minjeong was the most erotic you’ve ever seen since earlier: her eyes alternating on being half-open to a full-closed one as you know how much those orbs anticipates and dilate in every thrust you do, her mouth in a shape of ‘O’ as she stick out her tongue, her face ahegao from the reckless treatments you’ve been doing to her, sweat dousing down her neck and onto the back, also down to her toned midriff and the cherry on top, her scrumptiously small mounds with her taut buds that further turns you on.

With a relentless pace being ensued by your hips, an ear-screeching sound escapes her lips as you pound her like an animal, chasing your very own high. With just the tip inside, almost withdrawing your whole length up to filling her up to the hilt is an exhilarating experience and this is probably the hottest sessions you’ve been in with her—maybe, you’re a bit biased now since you only think of just plowing her tight cunt until she see stars and the overstimulation from both parties doesn’t help with your articulate judgment.

“God—you’re tightness, baby—fuck… Since when did you get so tight?”

Of course, she can’t answer just immediately but rather, taking seconds because of the pleasure she’s experiencing. She doesn’t know if it’s a rhetorical or a genuine question but she didn’t care because she wanted to answer anyway.

“I don’t k-know, daddy—ahh! I’m j-just so—gahh, daddy! Just s-so tight ar—around you!”

Well, the feelings are just mutual—you can’t help yourself but get too hard whenever she seduces you and she knows it because she’s one of the multiple weaknesses you possess. Between the rapid movements of your hips, you take some time to look at her pristine features and run your hands to caress it while still maintaining your ruthless pace. She screamed followed by hurried moans that further ignited your animalistic spirit and permeated a blessing to this filthy atmosphere that is probably a nightmare for the neighbors to hear upon—and the last thing you want to hear knocking at your doorstep is a noise complaint from them.

Hearing Minjeong’s moans is angelic and erotic, and it’s even going to get hotter considering how she mewling about reaching her high sooner and you know that she can’t do anything about it, even if you commanded her to hold on and not to cum yet. You know that your princess requires her needs to be attended whenever possible, and you’ll treat her as one and a ear-deafening scream pursuits you to go faster and harder in her tight, little heated cavern as she pulls you into an embrace, her nails gripping your shoulders and almost leaving your skin scratched but you didn’t mind it.

She needs to cum and you’ll give it to her because she means everything to you and you’ll make her world rock with it. She deserves it, like the good, little servant she is for your cock and it’s just obvious because of how much her walls grip and hug around your stiffened member.

“Daddy, I’m g-going to c-cum…” Minjeong whines audibly between your thrusts and with the sight of this, you fuck her like an animal, helping to chase her orgasm sooner and to make her achieve the utmost bliss.

“I know, baby. Now cum.”

She doesn't hold back anything, screaming in delight as she lets out everything while still gripping you tightly with her hands as a leverage from the mind-boggling orgasm she’s having. With how much she creamed all over your raging length—her juices forming like a rivulet around your cock that it stained the bed sheets and god, you’re damn sure you need a new one after you’re done with her—you could tell how euphoric her orgasm was as you still fuck her through it, but with a moderate pace, you wanting to get onto your high too, and not just hers.

“You good, baby?”

“Y-yeah…” Minjeong weakly responded, her eyes a bit drowsy from the earlier orgasmic earthquake as she tries to recover from it. “Please c-cum inside me. Breed m-me—spill it all out i-inside my tight cunt…”

You’re fulfilling that, of course.

Even with her enervated state, she still looks hot as fuck and you can’t help but get more aroused with her ruined look. With your pace building up again, you grab onto her hips for an outlet of your own pleasure as her moans encourage you to get onto your high much faster. With tight feelings on your loins getting out of hand, you know it’s going to be achieved soon so you hammer her pussy with deep thrusts that rocks her world ultimately.

Her wanton face never fails to make you on your knees and it’s about time to let it all out inside her.

A wild groan and the burying of your whole length up to the hilt is just a signal of achieving paramount pleasure. She can feel it and lets out a faint moan and a whimper as you deposit all of your seed inside her, not wasting a single drop not buried deep in her cunt.With still the mere adequate will in your body, you thrust your hips, fucking your semen deeper in her and to chase your still orgasmic state. Minjeong’s sultry cadence brushes off your ears, finding a way to force you into oblivion yet you can’t take such more because of your sensitivity. Giving both of yourselves some space to recover and breathe, you slowly pulled out of her tightness, causing Minjeong to cry in need and satisfaction.

“God, daddy—y-you came in me… A l-lot—o-oh…” Minjeong smiles with the oozing semen coming out of her hole, grabbing a small sample and then tasting it, humming in satisfaction as she’s delighted to taste your delicious product.

“What c-can I say—you’re goddamn hot, Minjeong.”

It was never enough and you know it to yourself she deserves more. You’re still sensitive but the urge of ruining her pristine and god-like image is more than the definition of arousing—it’s monumental and probably an experience of a lifetime. Still with your unrivaled hardness, you can’t tell how you will not ruin her again with your cock as she senses it, smirking and luring you to another round of filthiness and she’s not far with that.

“Such a slut for my cock, huh, baby?”

“You k-know me, daddy…”

Yes, you know her well and so are her limits. This was just the beginning of a spectacular show that you’re about to be into and it will be one hell of a night between the both of you. It’ll be a euphoric one, to that extent.

Being creative is a blessing in disguise, even in times like this even with your primal desires taking over you. You wanted variety as there’s more room to discover and to feel with her—experiment with her. Well, this wasn’t an experiment, but rather, you wanted to feel a different side of intercourse. As much as you want to see her beautiful face whenever you’re fucking her like an animal, you wanted it from behind, where you can achieve a different kind of pleasure and deeper penetration, which Minjeong utterly likes. You then commanded her to spin her figure around, get herself on all fours. She’s not naïve in these kinds of situation, being clever enough to do the rest—her ass up, face buried down the pillows

“Such a good girl for daddy, huh?” An obligatory spank on her bubble butt spices the atmosphere in the room, heat permeating the air as Minjeong’s moans add up to the concoction.

“I know you like it from behind—well now, you’ll get what you want, baby.”

This new profound position is a sensational experience and it’s literally everything you can dream of. Plunging your length deep inside her again, you groan with her tightness that rivaled any hole that she has—maybe even her walls gripping tighter than her ass, but that’s saved for another day. You painfully thrust inside her, moaning in unison as the pleasure is suddenly coursing down your veins, and hers and it’s hard to think straight with it.

Clouded with the filthiest thoughts possible and the urge of bypassing the sensitivity you’re feeling, you didn’t start off slow but did the opposite—ensuing such a reckless pace like earlier. In each thrust you do, a spanks comes in every divisible of twos as Minjeong lets out a cry and a moan that further ignites the lust in you. Knowing you need an outlet to further have a greater grip in fucking her, your other hand reaches for her hair, making a makeshift ponytails and pull her head up, her back arched in order for those muffled moans be unshackled, letting your ears be blessed with those sinful moans escaping her beautiful lips.

“Daddy, y-you’re—ahh—t-too deep!!”

“And y-you’re too tight, baby—but I fucking love it!”

It’s not a complaint but rather a call of pleasure as the penetration was euphorically insane to take, for her, yet she loves it. You notice how much she’s spilling out her juices around your cock—and maybe even some of your semen leaking out—and by the sight of it, she’s definitely enjoying it as you continue fucking her cunt mercilessly.

She’s sensitive and vulnerable, bound to be broken and ruined within just merely a reasonable fraction of the power your hips ensues and yes, she’ll be a sullied mess after you’re done with her. She faintly moans after every spank you do, and a shrill from time to time, between your thrusts. You could tell that she’s about to reach her high again with the tight clenching of her pussy around your length, almost suffocating the life of it and the stream of her juices being the cherry on top.

“Daddy—I’m g-gonna cum ag—again—gahh!”

You lower down your head as your mouth is now inches away from her ears, whispering the words that breaks the reservoir inside her—“Cum for me, darling.”

And she didn’t hold back, again. It feels like she’s in an override as her thighs quiver from another mind-blowing orgasm that she’s letting out, streams and streams of her juices gushing out of her emanating heat and around your throbbing length. You kiss her nape and her shoulders while achieving her high, letting her know how much you love her and how much you’ll cherish every moment with her.

“I love you baby—yes, let it all out…”

“Gahh—uh-uh, daddy! Aren’t you g-gonna cum too?”

“Well, you don’t need to say that anymore, baby.”

Chasing your own orgasm too, you pick up the pace you’ve left earlier, bringing in the harshness of thrust as every oscillation brings in maximum pleasure on both parties. You’re too aroused to see her in this state, so you thought of venting every horny detail that you’ve been battling around your head to her.

“Damn, Minjeong—this pussy really deserves to be bred and used, isn’t it? You like milking my cock until my balls feel like raisins, hm? ‘Cause gosh—it’s really working and I’m going to breed this pussy until you’re leaking with my cum, do you under—stand?”

“Y-yes, daddy—breed y-your beautiful slut! Bree—”

With your energy invigorated and so is the serotonin running down your body, you shoot another thick load inside her, painting every inch of her walls full of your warm seed. With your unparalleled carnal desires, you still fuck yourself hard enough for her butt to jiggle as it resonates even up to her thighs. With multiple pecks and suckling onto the porcelain skin of her neck, you fuel your orgasmic state, wishing your orgasm to last longer but not all things are everlasting, hence, they all end in a good note.

With your high depleting down, off to a cliff, you pull out of her with a satisfied groan, admiring the mess you’ve made between her legs as your cock twitches on the arousing sight of her full-creamed pussy. You exchange arduous breaths to each other, exhausted from the steamy session you’ve been into. She turned around, her body laying flat on the bed as your sweaty bodies collide, inviting her into an embrace and for a warm cuddle that you always loved.

“Daddy, y-you came so m-much, again…”

“You know I can’t waste not even a single drop with you, baby.” You peck her forehead with a n affectionate kiss, making her hum in delight as she appreciates your little actions.

With all of the filthiness that had made the room a big mess, you invite her to clean up with her in the bathroom as she struggles a little, concern feigning all over your face.

“You good, Minjeong?”

“Y-yeah, I guess y-you wrecked my pussy too hard…”

“I’m sorry about that—” Minjeong quickly lays a finger on your mouth, silencing you from your continuous apology. She reassures you that everything’s fine as she wanted this anyway, to be totally sullied and ruined by you.

But sometimes, people love to risk going over the limit…

“Probably a round three in the shower, daddy?”

And there she goes, again…

#kinknuary 2024 #aespa smut #kim minjeong smut #winter smut #winter x male reader #aespa x male reader #kim minjeong x male reader

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slvt4felix · 11 months ago

Text

I Could Never Hate You

Pairing -> ninth member!reader x Lee Minho WC -> ~3,300 words Includes -> hurt/comfort, angst, enemies to lovers, hyunjin's a meanie, reader has anxiety, minho struggles with his feelings, cringy nickname use, yelling, swearing Summary -> The rest of the group members are over the silly rivalry between you and Minho. They decide to take matters into their own hands. However, their little game takes a turn for the worse when one of the members betrays your trust. Some may call it destiny…the way it leads you straight into the arms of the one you would never expect. Author's Note -> This is my first time posting on here, so hopefully this isn't too rough. Also, I swear I don’t hate Hyunjin. I love him to death. It was just necessary for the plot… anywaysss hope you enjoy!!

Masterlist ♡ Next Part

“I swear to God if you guys don’t open this door right now!” You yell as you pound on the hotel room down the hall from yours. There hasn’t been a reply, but you know that Hyunjin and Felix are in there. The two of them are always locked in their hotel rooms the night before your shows. They try to get as much sleep as possible for the next day.

‘They are definitely laughing their asses off right now,’ you think to yourself. It was just a stupid prank to them. Something to get you and Minho to finally get along again, but they just don’t get it. You had tried for so long to make it work, but Minho was just too stubborn. For heaven’s sake, you guys used to be the best of friends. One day he just started being cruel. Ignoring your texts, saying snarky things under his breath, scoffing every time you accidentally messed a move up. It escalated to the point where you no longer talk anymore. Truly, it is not your fault and they don’t seem to get it. He refuses to say anything about what happened, completely disregarding the fact that you were ever close enough to share your deepest secrets.

You turn around to leave, realizing the two boys were probably never going to open the door. You hear the lock click and spin back to see the annoyingly beautiful face of Felix. Although he wasn’t outright laughing at you, he was putting little effort in trying to hide his smile.

“Hey, what are you so upset for? I didn’t notice anything wrong on the bus earlier?” Felix asks. You just stare back dumbfounded.

“Why the fuck would you ever put me in a room with him?” you spit pushing past Felix into his room, “Don’t you dare look at me like that, you know how he treats me.”

Hyunjin just looks at you from his spot on a queen bed closest to the window. He looks shocked, as if he hadn’t expected you to actually put up a fight against the sleeping arrangements.

"How is that our fault?" Hyunjin questions. He seems like he may be genuinely asking, but you know him better than that. You have always been closer to him than the other members, especially after all the things that went down with Minho. Hyunjin was always the one to comfort you. The first to step up when your anxiety got to be too much. So, it was obvious that the members did have something to do with it, and it wasn't just an unfortunate fluke.

"I saw the way you guys all ran to claim your rooms while I was still collecting my suitcase. Don't act stupid. I know you know what's going on," you say back in hopes to get him to at least explain what their plan was. Maybe you could reason with them and get one of the boys to switch. Heck, you'd even be willing to sleep on the couch in Hyunjin and Felix's room, but it's starting to seem like they don't even want you in their room in the first place.

You hear Felix close the door behind you, but it's all blocked out as you watch Hyunjin roll his eyes at you. While this may seem like a typical Hyunjin action, it just didn't feel right. He tries to be more gentle with you than the other boys. After confiding many of your secrets and insecurities in him, he knows to control his face around you. Yet, it's beginning to look like he's forgotten all about that tonight.

"Yeah, I'm the stupid one..." he mumbles under his breath. With every sentence exchanged, the tension in the room grows thicker. You almost feel bad putting the other poor boy in the room through this. You can practically feel him stiffen with every word spoken.

"Hyunjin-" Felix starts but is cut off by a sharp look from the man himself. You know it's starting to go too far if Felix is getting upset, but Hyunjin doesn't seem to care.

"Why are you so angry right now?" you ask him, praying the question doesn't fire him up more. Maybe he's just having a really bad day, or maybe he just wants to be alone and can't deal with your problems.

"I'm not angry," he starts, "you're just making a big deal out of absolutely nothing." By the end of it he begins to raise his voice, another thing he knows you aren't a fan of. You take a step back, a little confused at his ignorance. He's been with you through all the fights, why doesn't he understand how big of a deal this is to you?

As you're still trying to make sense of his previous statement, his voice quiets down, and he looks back down at his phone as he whispers, "Just like you always do."

"What is that even supposed to mean?" you ask, scared for the response. He glances up sharply, making true eye contact for the first time tonight.

"You're always crying over stupid shit, and I really can't handle it anymore,” he states angrily, his eyes not leaving yours the entire time. He finally breaks eye contact, and the tension explodes, painting the whole room red.

As dramatic as it sounds, it's like a knife to your heart, or perhaps more accurately a stab in the back. You know exactly what he means by that. It's like he was aiming for your most sensitive spots. With your anxiety, you tend to panic over things that don't usually matter much in other people's minds. Every time you have an anxiety attack or are just freaking out about something, you usually try to hide it. You worry that your friends won't take you seriously or will make fun of you over something they consider 'not a big deal'. You've confided in Hyunjin over this topic before. He's helping you get over that and come to them when you need help. So why is he now turning on you? Was it all an act before?

You feel your eyes start to tear up, but you hold them back. He cannot see you cry.

"Fuck you," you say, attempting to put venom behind it, but all that comes out is your shaky voice.

"Y/n, wait," Felix says sympathetically as you go to leave the room. Normally, you would stop and let Felix comfort you, but suddenly everything is feeling just a little too heavy and you can't seem to look him in the eye any longer. You stride out of the room, keeping your shoulders straight without even glancing back. You just need to stay strong until you make it into the hallway. You slam the door behind you despite typically being the one to argue when the other members to it. Your eyes are blurring too fast at this point to even recognize the fact that you probably should've shut it a bit quieter. It is a hotel and noise complaints are a thing, but, honestly, that is the least of your worries at the moment. You just keep replaying back the fight in your head trying to figure out what you did wrong. It had to be something, right?

You start down the hallway, cursing when you realize your room is at the other end of the hall. You hope the other boys can't hear your sobs, especially the two you just departed from. As much as you want to be comforted, it feels like you're past the point of no return and just want to be alone. You try to stifle your cries a bit with your hand, but it doesn't do much. You're heads getting a little too light, you're breathing getting harder to control. Your hands are shaking, and it seems like the crying is just starting. Some may call you sensitive, but when the tears start you simply begin to spiral. There's very little that can calm you down at that point. Hyunjin usually has to take you somewhere and help you take deep breaths especially before your concerts. But he's the one who started this mess. So, what are you supposed to do now?

You finally make it to your hotel room, barely being able to read the numbers, and you start to dig around in your pockets. You start to panic as you struggle to find your key card, but eventually you grasp the small rectangular piece of plastic and open the door.

Once inside, you shut the door, a bit calmer this time, and fall back against it. The only thing on your mind being the fact that you are finally in your own room, alone. You put your hands over your face, trying to quiet some of your senses. In the haste to get out of the situation, you completely failed to remember the problem that had started it all.

Minho is sitting in one of the beds; he had plenty of time to choose considering you just dropped your suitcase off and stormed off upon realizing the two of you would be rooming together. He's all cozy in his sweat pants and t-shirt, obviously thankful for your abrupt disappearance. He looks up, shocked to see you re-entering the room. He plans to make a jab of some sort, but immediately pauses upon seeing your state. It seems like you haven't even noticed that he's in there yet. He's never really seen you like this before, or at least not since he started pushing you away. Putting that aside, he accepts defeat realizing that you need someone. You need him.

Your eyes are covered as you cry quietly into your hands, pushing your head back into the wood behind you. You flinch slightly upon feeling strong arms wrap around your shoulders, pulling you away from the hard door. However, you soon relax into the arms, enjoying the feeling of safety flood your system. The man is warm and gentle as he presses you against him, pushing your head into the crook of his neck.

"Follow my breathing," he whispers in your ear, sending goosebumps from your head to your toes. You try to listen to him, but all of your senses are so overwhelmed that you can't seem to focus on anything. Feeling like a fool, you begin to cry harder, immediately sending you back to the fight with Hyunjin.

"Honey," he starts, "you just have to take a deep breath. I don't want you to pass out on me." Hearing the quiet voice in your ear helps bring your mind back to the present. Trying to focus on the instructions, you begin to notice the chest rising and falling slowly against yours. You can even feel the man's calm heart beat against your racing one.

Following the normally simple order, you try to take a deeper inhale resulting in a few hiccups and more tears. One of the arms around your shoulder falls and his hand begins to rub your back gently. As you focus on the sensation, your breathing starts to even out, just as Minho had hoped.

Once you are in a slightly better state, he moves you over to the bed. Setting you down on the edge, he kneels in front of you and softly pulls your hands away from your face. You instinctively bow your head, squeezing your eyes shut and trying to keep from facing the man in front of you.

Minho reaches his hand out, bringing your face back up towards his. You slowly open your eyes at the gentle touch. He's looking right back at you, a soft expression covering his face. He hasn't looked at you like that in years. He practically lights up when your eyes meet his.

A smile grows on his face, as he quietly says, "There you go, kitten." Your face flushes at the nickname, and you hear Minho giggle softly at your blushing cheeks. He used to call you that all the time. A fan had once greeted the two of you at a fan meet saying how you both had the same energy as cats. So from that day on, he had called you that nickname constantly, earning well-deserved teasing from the other boys. Yet, it had all stopped out of nowhere.

'He doesn't care about you anymore,' you remind yourself. You pull away from him roughly and stand up from the bed. You take a few steps away from him, the comfort you had felt being ripped away in seconds. This was too confusing. He can't ignore you for years and suddenly act normal. That isn't how this works.

"Why are you being so nice to me?" you ask him, just wanting some sort of explanation. He slowly stands up, his soft look from before transforming into a look of pure regret.

"What are you talking about? You're upset and I care about you," he calmly explains, obviously ignoring the elephant in the room. But you can see it in his eyes; the nerves, the regret, and the sadness painting itself across his irises.

"You hate me,” you say, leaving no room for discussion. You were sick of being left in the dark and being turned on. You just want to know, what happened?

"You don't really believe that do you?" he asks as his body language changes. He reaches a hand up, pulling a little too roughly against his hair as he looks down at the ground.

"I mean-" you start to say but are cut off by a small sniffle coming from across you.

The culprit looks up at you again, his eyes glistening with unshed tears. Minho never cries. It's just one of those things. So he wipes them away and says the last words you would ever imagine him speaking to you.

"I'm so sorry," he whispers genuinely, "I never meant to make you feel that way, but I guess that's what it's come to, hasn't it?"

You stand stiffly, staring at him. You had never seen the man look so defeated. You are even more confused about where the two of you stand than you have ever been.

"But I don't get it, you're just so mean. I don't know how you couldn't hate me."

"I could never hate you,” he states staring at you. His eyes are so deep that you can see exactly what he's feeling, and you realize, this is it. He's an open book. This may be the one time you get to see under the surface of Lee Minho since those days of friendship all those years ago.

"Then why did you push me away?" you ask, taking advantage of his state.

"I was just so scared. I thought you would hate me if you found out..." he trails off. You simply wait for him to finish his sentence, but he never does. He just looks back at you in hopes that you understand what he's trying to say. A silence builds, and Minho takes a deep breath before continuing.

"I love you and I was just too scared in case it would ruin the group," he says, finally letting the truth escape after years of secrets. The shock of the statement leaves you speechless, simply staring at your old best friend.

After a few seconds of building tension, you can’t help but start to giggle, leading to near hysterics with more tears springing to your eyes. You had thought you had cried all of them out, but it looks like you were wrong. There's no way that's the reason. If only he had been honest with his feelings, then you would've never been in this situation in the first place.

He looks surprised at your laughing, and his whole body seems to deflate.

'Hopefully he doesn't think I'm laughing at him', you think. There's no way they had messed up communication that bad to let it get to this point.

"You should have said that, Minho. I was so in love with you," you state gently, trying not to bewilder the poor man. He looks up, and there's pure excitement on his face. It's beautiful to see compared to his earlier expressions, and you're reminded of all those little reasons you love him. All those reasons that have been buried down due to his obliviousness.

"Really?" he says, taking a step closer to you. Your cheeks heat up upon realizing that you really did just reveal one of your darkest secrets.

He takes another step closer, his face now only inches from yours. You feel his arms wrap sweetly around your waist. You glance down at his lips; they're slightly chapped, but honestly, it's just all part of what makes Minho, Minho. Your eyes go back up to meet his, and you can see the tension and nerves drawn upon his face. You quickly close the distance, making the decision you should have made all those years ago.

Minho doesn't pull away, instead immediately melting into the kiss, bringing one hand up to delicately cup your cheek. This may be one of the softest moments you have ever witnessed from Minho, and man do you want more.

You don't kiss for long, it's short and sweet, but it means so much more. Within it is everything you had wished you could've said to each other since the beginning.

You both pull back, a laugh leaving both of your mouths as you take in how outrageous the situation is. He pulls you close again, his head falling on your shoulder.

"I promise, I will never ever treat you like that again. You mean so much to me," he whispers. You bring a hand up to pet the back of his hair, pulling back just enough to give him a kiss on the cheek.

The two of you eventually pull away as your eyelids begin to droop. You realize how late it has gotten, neither of you noticing with all the drama that has unfolded. You quickly change into your pajamas and get ready to go to sleep.

You end up in the same bed with your head lying on his chest, his fingers running through your hair. Despite how sleepy you both feel, you know there is so much more to talk about and neither of you will be able to fall asleep.

Minho breaks the silence, asking you the dreaded question, "So, what happened? Did someone hurt you?"

"Hyunjin and I fought. He said some very hurtful things." I reply sadly, the memories of the fight resurfacing.

"You two are so close, I'm sure he didn't mean it. You know how upset he gets when we’re on tour for so long. He gets aggravated having to be around us all the time, but it was still messed up for him to be so mean to you."

You laugh at his response, "Yeah, like you can talk."

"Hey!" he says dramatically. You both giggle, and despite the tough topic, the tension seems to melt away. It always used to be that way with Minho. It's as if the two of you were made for each other. Everything just felt so much better and easier around him. Suddenly, everything in life was a lot sweeter.

"But seriously, don't worry about it too much, kitten. Felix will take care of it, and Hyunjinnie will be running back to you by the morning."

Part 2 out now!

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nymphbnny · 5 months ago

Text

room 609

────── nanami kento

⤷ general.manager!nanami who can’t help but be seduced by your little receptionist fit and wit.

tw: age gap (20s ; 40s), kind of a slow burn to porn, masturbation (male), seductive touching,mating press, dirty talk, praise, doggy, slight riding, minor daddy kink, oral (fem) , fingering, creampie, unprotected sex, not read proof MDNI

pssst!! i missed you guys so much <3 i hope you enjoy this piece i’ve prepared for you. i’ll get to my inbox asks as soon as i can. love and kisses xoxo

“sir you booked your room b&b, which means your breakfast is included in the pricing of your room regardless if you have it or not. i can’t reimburse you.” you explained for the tenth time to the stubborn guest on the other side of the desk. you’ve already had a long day and were close to ending your shift until he came and disrupted your plans.

“is there a problem here?” he uttered, making both of your heads turn at him. nanami was standing by the reception, probably aware of the silly conflict thanks to the cameras he installed. it was a good thing that not only they showed him what was happening but he could also hear the entire discussion.

you looked down at your french nails, not saying a word as the client went out on his rant. haven’t you done that, you would’ve noticed how your superiors would casually gaze at you, unfazed by the ongoing monologue.

“how about that sir,” nanami spoke up, his eyes now fully fixated on the man. “let’s say i rented a room at your place, bed, and breakfast included, and you end up preparing one of the most exquisite breakfast only for me to reject your hospitality and ask you to pay me back that breakfast, disregarding all the care and effort you put to make me feel at home. how would that make you feel?”

silence. utter and complete awkward silence.

you were so stunned and yet nothing could match the man’s face. this was the first time you heard nanami use that tone, or even speak that much for that matter. you thought he was done until he proceeded: “you booked your room fully aware that you were paying for both the room and the breakfast. i hope there won’t be any further issues.” he adjusted the glasses on his face before stoically watching him pay his stay then check out. “hm if you can’t handle silly conflicts call me. i don’t need to be babysitting you 24/7.”

you couldn’t even reply or apologize as he turned around and left. it took you a minute to realize he undermined your skills and humiliated you. you clenched your teeth and furiously grabbed your bag. you were stomping so hard on the marble floor you were sure that the guests could hear you. “babysitting my ass,” you grunted.

you’ve been working as a receptionist for almost a year. you knew what you were doing but he always had to butt in and comment on everything you did. just to tick you. he clearly didn’t seem to care when your colleague answered a call in front of a guest and began cussing at her sister loudly. but you, whatever you'd do, there was always an aftermath about it with nanami. it wasn't like you were particularly fond of your job, it was only temporary.

you couldn’t say anything to him or complain to anyone about him since he was the general manager of the hotel but your patience was wearing thin and you were seriously considering quitting. nanami was an arrogant man. an attractive one, unfortunately. he could capture the attention of a room in seconds. always composed and well-groomed. god he smelled heavenly too. you could try to deny your tiny crush all you wanted but it was there. his praise meant a lot to you. when you first began working here, his compliments happened often, almost daily. whether it's how much of a 'fast learner you are', or how you're doing 'a good job'. you'd get high on them. having a general manager like nanami praise you was everything you needed to boost your self-esteem. however, the moment you got comfortable around him, throwing a few hand waves whenever you saw him passing by the lobby or even knocking on his door without calling his office first to check if he had time to see you, it was all gone and soon replaced with constant scolding.

you knew that nanami was a serious man. a workaholic. albeit he’d always find ways to slightly touch you, brush up against you, squeeze you into your desk to pass behind you with his hands on your hips to ‘grab some papers’ although he had copies. sometimes he’d even go as far as to reprimand you for unbuttoning the very first two buttons of your dress shirt, scolding you for showing a bad image of his hotel.

“so unprofessional,” he tutted. “this isn’t a brothel. you’re not supposed to seduce the guests.” he murmured as he fixed them for you. you were looking at him with doe eyes, your crush undeniable at that moment, your chest heavily moving as he was unbelievably close to you, his fingers lightly brushing your exposed skin. “i didn’t know that a few buttons could seduce someone.” you lowly replied, your tone lining with slyness and quip. nanami looked down at your chest one last time before humming, his phone ringing in his pocket.

nanami treatment for you was paradoxical. he got off teasing you. especially when you first came into his office to present yourself after your interview. you were wearing your black pencil skirt and loose tucked-in white shirt. as respectful as he was, he was still a man. he couldn't help his eyes that lingered on your exposed legs, up to your tight skirt and beautiful curves. he'd be lying if he didn't think about you spread on his desk, his cock buried inside you with his tie wrapped around your wrists, holding your tits together.

she is so receptive, he’d think. watching you work and obey. you were so obedient to his commands and wishes. made him wonder if you were receptive in bed too.

he saw you the next day going into the hr's office, nobara's, to receive your paycheck. his office wasn’t far and he always passed by each department to check if everything was intact. “thank you so much, oh also could i have tomorrow off?” you inquired as you got up, not sensing the presence of the tall blond man behind you.

“sure but i’d have to double check with mr- oh! there you are!” she shrieked as she saw nanami. you turned your head to catch him looking down at you. he was wearing a black shirt with black chinos. fuck me, you thought. if he didn’t call you out of your daze you’d probably have trailed too far down his body and gawked at his print.

“what do you need your off for? it’s the first of the month.” he deadpanned. truth be told it didn’t matter when you wanted to have your day off as long as your colleagues could cover your shift. moreover, he had no right to ask you why you needed your day off. it was personal and he was breaching your privacy.

“well, mr nanami,” a glimpse sparkled in his eyes at the pronunciation of his name. “i need to have a breath of fresh air. a change of environment.“ you said tilting your head a little to the side. you were holding the envelope between your fingers, waiting for his reply. “i guess if nabora granted you a day off then you should be good to go. have a nice day.”

nanami left to his office, nobara snickering behind you. you got pretty close with her throughout the year. you shared the same interests and often hung out together and tomorrow was going to be one of those days.

you’d go out to blow off some steam — get black-out drunk — and dance around like idiots. your team was amazing and you were so grateful nobara was so fun to be around. everyone was generally nice, well, almost everyone.

you’d go out every once a week. it was your thing. sometimes you’d go to each other's places and have a small gossip about some of your colleagues, sometimes you’d do both.

“god that was so nice,” nobara slurred out as you got to her apartment. your day off paid well. fresh salary got you pretty nails and a pretty meal before you went to the club and had a few shots. it was packed to the brim but you didn’t mind. it was a different atmosphere and you've been dying for some nightlife. you took off your short dress, and a few flashbacks of how you were grinding against the handsome man went through your mind.

if it weren’t for nobara pulling you away to do more shots, you’d probably have gone home with him. both of you were slurring your words, drunkenly spilling the hot gossip about every employee in the hotel.

“— and i told him that! he is just sooooo,” she trailed before proceeding, her hand on your thigh. “dumb!” she laughed, throwing her entire body back and collapsing on her bed. man, you loved work gossip. you were fully entertaining nobara, both of you in your silk pajamas.

you were slowly drifting away, your eyelids getting heavier until she dropped his name in the conversation, your body uncontrollably shooting up. “my my, don’t be so alarmed.” she snickered. “i thought you saw him at the club. i was calling you to come say hi but you were so busy grinding against that hot mess.” she nudged you with her elbow before falling back on her back.

pause. press pause now.

“nanami was there?” you could only mutter out. while you failed to spot him, he, on the other hand, most definitely saw you. your blood ran cold and you began overthinking. you knew he wasn’t your boss outside of your work environment, he couldn’t scold you. yet you kept on worrying.

“hey you good?” she asked worriedly, your face scrunching up. “god you act so weird every time i bring him up. almost as if you like him.” nobara giggled. your eyes widened. “i do not!” you almost yelled defensively.

she was quiet for a second, remembering your interactions with him. how he treated you differently than others. harsher and almost too controlling. as fun as nobara was, she was still one of the smartest people you ever worked with. she could smell it a mile away. you liked him.

“you’re drunk and making things up.” your voice softened up. “he’s so mean. i don’t get why he’s so harsh with me. and all the touching…” you trailed, the alcohol not helping you think clearly. you looked beside you to find nobara asleep, her snores gradually becoming stronger. you scoffed at your friend before grabbing your phone from your purse and rewatching the stories you posted.

you noticed a new name amongst your usual views, your brows furrowing in confusion.

nanamikento

nanami was on social media? and how did he find your account? you used a fake name. knowing you won't be hearing the end of it, you decided to sleep it off and gather all the energy you could need for tomorrow.

you didn't even have time to salute the night audit as the phone rang the second you stepped into the reception area. nanami. you internally sighed and mentally prepared yourself for what you might tell him as you made your way to his office. you knocked on his door and he lowly asked you to come in and have a seat on his leather couches. you take a seat in front of him and before he even has the chance to glance at you, your tongue lets loose. "mr. nanami i know you saw my Instagram stories last night however this is none of your concern and i don’t feel like i should be called in here to be scolded for doing something that isn’t hurtful to my work environment. i'm a highly professional and punctual employee and i strongly believe that i don't need to be hearing any more scolding coming from you."

while you felt empowered by your monologue, nanami didn't seem fazed at all. he glanced up at you when you started talking, not blinking once before deadpanning: "i frankly couldn't bother to care about what you do outside this hotel therefore your personal life is no bother to me. however what does bother me indeed," he said standing up before walking around his desk and towering over you, "is the way you just spoke to me."

god, he was so close you could feel his breath lingering on your lips. it was only natural for you to feel more embarrassed and humiliated about what happened. you gulped before looking up at him, your lips hesitant to move. "mr. nanami i apologize for my rude behavior. i sincerely do. i- i just, you always seem to want to scold me whatever i do and i thought that this time-"

"are you saying i have a poor sense of judgment and scold you because i want to?" his hands were now on each side of the couch, caging you in as he leaned further down. you leaned back, breath labored. he didn't look like it but he was enjoying every second.

she's so beautiful when she's all flustered and red. squeezing her thighs together and fiddling with her pretty nails from embarrassment and i haven't touched her yet. he didn't expect you to answer his question. he was just trying to get you all worked up.

he couldn't help but be mean to you. at first, you were just another e, employee to him. needy of his praise to rise through the ranks and become better and more efficient at their job. needing and thriving for motivational words to get the job done. but the more he spoke to you and watched you get warm around him, the less control he had over himself.

"mr. nanami i printed out all the vouchers you asked for and contacted the travel agency to confirm all the guests for tomorrow's wedding. oh, and i thought i'd ask room service to bring you your lunch here. i couldn't help but notice you didn't have time to sit with us at lunch today." you smiled at him, your hands interlocked as you stood in front of his desk. he grinned at you, grabbing the papers you gently put on his desk with your soft hands. "that's very kind of you y/n. i would've asked you to join me but as you can see i'm busy."

"oh yes, definitely mr. nanami i wouldn't want to bother you anyway. if you'll excuse me i need to go back to the lobby. goodbye." you turned on your heels and exited his office leaving him and his print that was clear as day.

"fhuck," he groaned as he stroked his throbbing cock, his hand leaning against his bathroom in a fist with his head down, eyes shut as he imagined you were sucking him instead. he'd always get worked up because of you. how small and innocent you looked. so kind, so mesmerizing. so fragile compared to him. "fucking hell y/n, mhm," his hand going faster, squeezing his swollen tip. "just like that pretty," he whimpered thinking about your lips wrapped around his tip kissing and teasing his slit before he came all over his hand. nanami breathed out, ashamed that a small interaction turned him into a raging teenage boy fucking his fist secretly in the bathroom. he knew he needed more, touch you, scold you, anything to get a reaction out of you.

"mr. nanami please don't fire me. you're right i poorly acted." your voice snapped him out of his thoughts and he was glad it did or else you'd start by noticing the growing bulge in his dress pants.

he leaned back up and went back to his chair, discreetly fixing himself. "there's a group of guests coming at two in the afternoon, approximately sixty to seventy people. i need you to start working on the rooming list before they arrive to have a smooth check-in and make sure all the rooms are well cleaned." he fixed his glasses and looked at his laptop.

"but, wasn't the rooming list supposed to be done two weeks ago i don't understand." doing this on your own is suicide. it wasn't a small group. he's talking about sixty to seventy people. it's impossible.

"i called you hear for this reason. i need you to do it because unfortunately we just were recently notified due to lack of expertise and this group is going to stay over a few months, losing them would be idiotic." he muttered the last bit and kept on typing on his laptop. "you are dismissed. i trust you can get the work done."

your eyebrows arched up as your mind wondered if your ears were playing tricks on you or if he just said something nice. you decided to ignore it and go back to work. you had no time to waste and to your bad luck, today you were alone at the front desk.

"i’m actually so tired i cannot feel my fingers. i’ve been typing all day nonstop only to be rewarded with a small good job from nanami. like i literally cannot take his shit anymore, i told you what happened earlier in his office." you huffed. "i don’t understand why he acts this way with me! he’s so indifferent and i genuinely can't stand him." you dropped onto her bed lying back and looked up at the ceiling. she snickered and laughed next to you. she knows you're annoyed because of your silly crush. parts of you wanted him to be jealous of that guy you were rubbing yourself on. god knows he was.

"well," she paused as she sat next to you. "you’re gonna have to tolerate him tonight babes because we are seeing him outside of work. now before you start talking again," she exclaimed silencing you with a finger against your lips and making you pout. "we all had a tiring day today and we know we’re going to be quite busy and overwhelmed for the next few months to come so the owner decided to give some of us, well the hard workers, access to one of his private members' club to blow off some steam and award us for the general good job we’ve been doing. anyway, nanami is gonna be there so i want you to get over the crush you have on him and no don't deny it because the sooner we can get ready the better."

you glare at her. nobara was right but you were a stubborn person. "absolutely not". you interject as you stand up and throw your phone on the bed. "i am not going out to party with a man who constantly insults me. i refuse to go out with a man who looks down on me for no reason and have to pretend to enjoy my time tonight around him just so he doesn’t have any smart retort to say to me. i want to dress up however i want, i want to dance, i want to drink and I want to get black-out drunk and not have anyone reprimand me or scold me for my behavior and i’m not going to be able to do that if he’s going to be there." you put your hands on your waist and sighed when you caught nobara holding her laughter with pursed lips.

"nobara i can see that you’re going to burst." she starts laughing and falls back on her back. "oh man, i didn't know you cared about nanami kento that much. lord," she kept on laughing, her mouth wide open and arms holding her stomach. "girl fuck you." you blushed. "i'm not going and that's final." you rolled your eyes, and sat on her couch.

this was starting to become very frustrating.

"this place is amazing!" nobara yelled in your ear as you walked into the club. you ended up caving in. although you had your stand on the situation, you still wanted to see him. you wanted to look at him. you were curious to know if he dressed differently outside of work or if he acted differently. you were feeling pretty confident. you looked stunning. a black dress that wrapped beautifully around your body and matching black, red bottom heels.

his eyes landed on you the second you stepped through the door. he was sitting on one of the couches where the other invitees were, swirling his bourbon in his hand. once he noticed nobara spotting him, he stood up, downing his drink in one swing, and adjusted his clothes.

you locked eyes with him, your heart dropping instantly. he was wearing a black shirt with its sleeves rolled up to his elbows, and casual pants that fit him just perfectly and tonight he wasn't wearing his glasses. he is so handsome, you thought to yourself. nobara walked up to him first, hugging him casually as if he wasn't her superior.

you, on the other hand, were too shy to do so as well. instead, you extended your hand, only for him to catch it and pull you to his chest, arm wrapping around your waist tightly while his other arm was wrapped around your shoulders to rest his hand on your head, keeping you in place. your heart was beating so fast you could hear it beat louder than the music around you.

you closed your eyes, taking into his smell as your arms unconsciously found their way around his back, the pads of your fingers lingering on the muscles. "you smell good," he whispered in your ear, your skin burning at his compliment. "you look stunning as well," he added before letting you go of his embrace, your heart sinking at the loss of his touch. "thank you, you look good yourself." you said, the tips of your ears red. you were going to explode.

and just when you thought it couldn't get any better, you saw him smile at you. a genuine ass smile. did he have too much to drink? you couldn't6 think about anything else to say as your hand was abruptly taken by nobara to drag you to the bar to do shots.

you glanced at him one last time before your view was hidden by the people in the crowd.

"i'm so fucking hammered!" nobara exclaimed while the others cheered with her, doing more shots. everyone looked so drunk. you didn't let yourself drink too much. you couldn't afford to be drunk and forget about what happened with nanami or worse, act like a drunk in front of him. that couldn't happen. you had to stay composed.

"let's dance! come on y/n show them!" nobara cheered while you shook your head, everyone else encouraging you. "come on we're all gonna dance." another coworker said.

you were dragged to the dancefloor and decided to just enjoy it. at the end of the day, you were here to blow off some steam and this is what you were about to do. you danced and swayed your hips to the music, laughing at nobara's weird dance moves. it's the first time you realize how ridiculous she looks drunk dancing.

hands on your waist made you jump, your hands over them, eager to get them off you. "it's me," nanami reassured you in your ear. you looked around only to find out that it was really him, hands on your waist, moving with you to the music, your back pressed firmly against him. your ass rubbed against him while you moved, only making him hold you tighter. "mr nanami, i don't think this is appropriate." you try to say, not wanting anyone to get the wrong idea.

"they're all drunk," he turned you around, his hands dropping to your hips. "you don't mind dancing with a stranger but you do so with me?" he cocked his eyebrow, his face turning as he looked down at you.

part of you was giddy about it. so it did bother him.

"i thought you didn't care mr nanami-"

"kento." he deadpanned. "call me kento."

"kento..." you muttered, your eyes softening at him as you wrapped your arms around his neck only to drop them at his shoulders. you wanted to touch him all over.

"i lied. it enraged me. i felt jealous, i wanted to be the one to touch you like he did, better than he did." you felt dizzy. you were a smart girl though. it slowly started making sense to you. the bullying, the accidental touching. all of it.

"you want to touch me kento?" you reached to his ear to whisper, kissing his ear before tugging at his lobe. you dragged his hand down your ass, urging him to touch you. you could hear him hiss, his hand now gripping your ass. "hm." he hummed feeling the plump of your ass.

the music was so loud and everyone was acting promiscuously drunk around you. no one seemed to notice how gentle nanami’s touch was on you despite the atmosphere that would invite to a harsher and more sexual kind of touching. he was allowing his hand to go over your curves, giving himself permission to drag his fingers underneath the curve of your ass, up your hips and waist to finally caress your cleavage.

as much as he’s been dreaming about ripping off your clothes and taking you on his desk, he couldn’t bring himself to be rough with you.

you looked so beautiful so gentle. “kento?” your voice drove his eyes back to yours. “so gorgeous,” he put his hand on your cheek. “so soft,” your skin was on fire. you felt your goosebumps rise as his thumb worked his way to separate your lips.

“take me to your place.” your boldness taking him by surprise. you wrapped your hand around his bicep, pressing yourself further into him.

“i can’t, it’s not appropriate.” nanami coughed, still holding you against him, not truly convinced by his own statement.

you looked at the blond male with doe eyes, tilting your head. pushing yourself up on the tip of your toes you gave his neck a small kiss, feeling his body tense up as you did so. “please,” you begged against his skin. “please kento,” you kept on giving his skin kitten kisses, his fingers almost digging into your skin.

he looked down at your pleading eyes, then down to your cleavage that was pressing against him. “the things you do to me,”

“what things?” you whisper, your lips almost touching his. you were feeling a bit more courageous now that you’ve discovered that your crush was clearly reciprocated. “don’t you wanna show me?” you finger trailed down his chest to his pants before poking his print. he choked in some air, quickly having a sense of alert as he skimmed his surroundings, not wanting anybody to start any gossip.

“they’re all drunk nanami, it’s just you and me,” you reached out to his face, turning him so he could face you again.

without any second thought, he wrapped his big hand around yours and dragged you out of the crowded dance floor towards the exit. you couldn’t help but bite down on your smile, watching how his back muscles flexed as he made his way through the dancing bodies, carefully ever checking that you were still following him although he had your hand secured in his.

once you were outside, he asked the valet to bring up his car. his hand on your thigh the whole ride, giving you small caresses of reassurance. you couldn’t help but take notice of his tenderness, how handsome his looked while driving. you wondered if he looked that good being on top of you as well.

and he was.

“kento~” you whimpered, your legs resting on his shoulders as he bullied his fat cock inside you. you’d try to move around, get more, feel more.

“be my good girl and let daddy take care of you.” he rolled his hips into you, your warmth and wetness coating him. the nickname he had given himself already making you all wobbly.

you nodded, your eyebrows furrowed as he thrusted at an unbelievably slow aching pace, giving you long and deep stroke against your walls. “if only you knew,” he grunted, pulling back before pushing back in all that once, earning a small yelp from your beautifully parted lips. “how much i’ve been wanting to fold you like this.” nanami rested his forehead against yours, his lips capturing yours.

you moaned against his lips, your fingernails tracing shapes on his muscled back as he picked his pace up. nanami’s kisses were hungry, a real evidence of his earlier statement. he’s been wanting this for so long. “kento, you feel so good inside me,” you murmured through his lips, grabbing the back of his neck to pull him closer.

your words made him tremble, his hips slamming faster against your thighs. “i never want to get out, god i want to fill you up so badly,” he stated almost in a weak whimper. you rocked your hips with him, trying to meet him at each move. but he was unpredictable.

flipping you around and arching your back, getting a full view of your ass and swollen cunt. “so messy,” he dragged his finger across your folds making you shiver, before pushing his finger in. you moaned out, your hand reaching to hold onto the headboard.

he was having fun with you now, pushing his finger at first then adding another, before removing them both to rub on your abused clit only to stop before your climax to finger you again.

“kento please,” you whimpered trying to move yourself back and get some friction from his dick but he tutted, removing your hand away. “you’re my good girl remember? my good girl always does what she’s told isn’t that right?” he inquired, rubbing his swollen tip against your entrance.

you nodded against his scented pillow, submissively putting both hands behing your back, showing your surrender to him. “that’s it, such a good fucking girl,” he muttered, his length pushing against your folds again, this time a tad harsher accompanied with a spank on your cheeks. “so good darling, so good,”

his nicknames got you high. his praise got you high. your hips were thrown back, almost as if you were managing his thrusts. he let you, watching how you would roll your hips and guide yourself through your orgasm.

“kento…” you whimpered, tears filling your eyes as you creamed over his girth. “come for daddy sweetheart that’s it,” he encouraged you, wrapping his hand around you to toy with your clit, sending you over the edge.

“so messy,” he chuckled watching you lose control over him. nanami pulled out and before you could complain he was down on his knees and eating your cum that was leaking from your abused hole. “oh my god, fhuck yes daddy,” you rode his face, enjoying the feeling of his tongue scooping your cum, his hands firmly gripping your ass to pull your cheeks apart.

you felt yourself overstimulated, ready for another orgasm. he could feel it too by the way your thighs were jiggling.

using his middle and ring finger, nanami spread you again, curling them inside your walls to rub your spot. you were such a mess. creaming on his fingers and blabbering on his pillow.

“you’re so sensitive, i love it,” he smirked, giving your ass a small bite before licking off your cum from his fingers.

you felt his weight lie next to you, rolling your body over. “are you okay?” he carefully pushed the hair away from your face. you nodded with a smile. once you realized he was done it quickly faded.

“you haven’t came yet.” you held his arm. he chuckled. “but you did. plus you seem tired i don’t want to push myself.” he sheepishly said.

you shook your head refusing. “no,” you got up and straddled him, lining his dick to your entrance before fully sitting on him.

“holy fuck what are you doing?” nanami asked you, watching you wrap your arms around him. “gonna make you come inside me,” you sultry answered, to which he held your hips with his hands, guiding your bouncing body. his lips parted to the way your eyes rolled back. you looked so fucked out it was mesmerizing.

you tits bouncing up and down with the motions of your body followed by yelps of his name.

“come inside me daddy,” you mewled in his ear, holding onto his shoulders. you could feel him groan as he began to fuck himself up into you, soon unloading his balls inside you.

you felt dizzy to the feeling of his warm seed, grinding yourself on him to make sure to receive it all.

you rested your face in the crook of his neck before letting out a small laughter. “never thought you’d be such a dirty man mr. nanami,”

he only laughed in return. “and you haven’t even seen the beginning of it.”

#dilf nanami #nanami kento smut #nanami x you #nanami kento x reader #nanami imagine #kento nanami #jjk nanami #jjk x y/n #jujutsu kaisen smut #jujustu kaisen #kento x you #kento smut #nanami kento #nanami x reader #nanami smut

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throwaway-yandere · 11 months ago

Text

𝗖𝗹𝗮𝘀𝘀𝗶𝗰𝗮𝗹 𝗖𝗼𝗻𝗱𝗶𝘁𝗶𝗼𝗻𝗶𝗻𝗴 [Yandere!Dottore/Reader]

a/n: this fic is 100% dedicated to @leftdestiny-posts and they would know just how much they had inspired me in this fic once they finished reading it HAHAHAHAH. P.S.: the classical songs mentioned are actual songs. Yes, the title is half a joke. Here's the spotify playlist if you're curious.

Unreliable Synopsis: You cannot remember your past, but your doctor has been with you every step of the way— and he's more than willing to spend some time with you outside the hospital. Still... did you always have pure white hair?

CW: yandere themes, light body horror, manipulation, its dottore, c'mon LOL.

Concert II "Tristezza Di Fine Anno", performed by the Morespoke Philharmonic with their conductor, Lady Columbina, began nearly an hour ago. And you had the fortune of hearing their songs for yourself.

The well-dressed crowd filled the seats, behaving in what was appropriate for their high station. It was fully booked. The music overwhelmingly masked anyone's breaths, if they had one to start with. Her program can be felt deep in the audience's bones. Rattling them in each sforzando before it lulls down through the sound of her handpicked musicians— with Lady Columbina as the lonesome soloist when the moment calls for it.

"This piece, Symphony No. 5 in C-Sharp Minor, is not Columbina's own making, she had failed to mention that," your company hummed. "This was by another composer who hid behind the name Safed. They were a self-fulling prophecy. Do you wish to know what they said about this piece?"

You said nothing as Zandik— Lord Dottore— stroked your unnaturally "white" hair.

"They said that nobody understood the piece and that they wish they could conduct the first performance five centuries after their death."

Zandik smiled.

"What say you? Do you think those words are true?"

Your company was a tall and thin man with artificially pale-ish skin and wavy blue hair. His eyes were reportedly bloodshot crimson, although you had not received proof of that in this lifetime. But, you were drawn to his deep ocean-like colors, and that was enough to keep you mildly complacent to his strange remarks.

Zandik is surprisingly a considerate man, but he must've brought you with him for a reason. He told you himself that the reason he brought you out of your prison-like hospital room was a mere experiment on his behalf. Paradigm-shifting consequences of his strange social experiments with you are likely to occur, and he cares not for its ethical debates. He won't ask for rhetorics; these to him are tangible outcomes and no questions will be entertained.

All except his.

"I think… "

The composition had a serene, slightly asymmetrical feel to it. You were certain this was Lady Columbina's creative liberties at play. Something about it did not capture its true authenticities. The show purported to narrate three stories: the first concerned a judge who had to find a loved one guilty; the second concerned a prince who drove their beloved into despair; and the final was a tale of a knight who disregarded his obligation to defend a loved one.

But it felt incomplete. As if there was a missing piece— a secret fourth act hiding between the notes and stage.

"A person can't completely mourn for something they would never experience," you told him. "But even so, if I were Safed, I'd feel like my effort would've been a waste."

His eyes remained trained on your hair as you spoke. Zandik seems to dislike it. Unlike his cells mixed with engineered nanomaterials, yours are uniquely… "natural". His hair has a color intensity, whereas yours was the presence of every color— as physics explained it.

"Something they would never experience…" Zandik repeated, tasting the words on his tongue— a smirk etched on his face as though it tasted like bitter irony.

You continued.

"I have a hunch that Safed put everything they worked hard on all their pieces because Lady Columbina wouldn't have performed it otherwise. Since all the songs on the concert's program are marketed as underappreciated compositions, I would… um… infer that they also questioned their works and ultimately themselves if it all had worth in the end. Hopeless for the lack of attention, they probably thought there's more hope if they lived in another generation."

You wanted to say, though you're not sure where this negativity came from, that they probably despised how their well-crafted works were ignored and their sloppy yet significantly more popular compositions angered them.

But you're not Safed. You don't want to put words in their mouth.

".... Hmm, an acceptable hypothesis— a decent one, even," whatever monotonous response Zandik wished to convey, his voice betrayed his grand satisfaction. "Yet I won't give you any confirmation."

"I know."

Zandik laughed.

"The next piece is Norn's Adagio for Strings Op. 11, before the closing Symphony No. 6, better known as Pathétique Symphony, in B Minor Op. 74."

You tilted your head innocently. "Pathetic?"

"Another piece by Safed. It's a Fontaine-translated title. It's originally named pateticheskaya, which meant passionate or emotional, not at all pitiable."

He crossed his arms, insulted as though he was the one who came up with the original title.

"Roughly half a millennium past, the masses attributed Safed's demise to the strains of their final composition, the so-called Pathétique, a mere nine days preceding their exit from this mortal coil. The prevailing narrative spouts a tale of a tragic surrender to the clutches of undiagnosed clinical depression. I find such simplicity in analysis rather pedestrian, wouldn't you agree?"

You took a while to process his inquiry before hesitantly nodding.

"I… I think so."

Zandik smiled.

It's hard to tell if it's genuine, especially when such a protruding mask hides his eyes. Should its existence vanish, you aren't certain you'd see a soul within his pupils either.

"Safed hated this piece, believing it should be cast aside and forgotten. They were living in the woodlands when they wrote it— and when they decided to live with their benefactor, it was suddenly difficult to tear them away from their work."

You nodded to cue that you were still listening.

"They have an incredibly deep connection with their works. One might say they see in tunes rather than color."

You nodded again.

"Your inclination towards a perpetual affirmation of propositions, presumably to veil any potential lacunae in your cognitive purview, does not escape me. It is, if I may be so bold, your agreement that conceals your specter of unfamiliarity, right?"

You rarely understand a word he says when he is in this passionate state. You just nod as if you knew.

"Adorable," Zandik chuckled.

His voice was chillingly low yet… comforting.

"Your sincerity constitutes an enchanting facet of your comportment."

He had to be teasing you.

"Although…" Zandik grabbed a few locks of your hair as though it was slimy and unpleasant— quickly retracting them with a disapproving tilt. "You could stand to utilize more (h/c) hair dyes. How is it conceivable that it has returned to white yet again?"

You opened your mouth but Zandik raised a finger.

"No. I am the scholar here. Do not answer."

You giggled. "Understood, Doctor."

He grinned, inadvertently showing off his pointed canines.

"What a good test subject you are, my dear (Y/n)."

Whether good was a subjective or objective assessment or not was up to interpretation.

The mid-concert intermission began, allowing Lady Columbina's pressured musicians a 20-minute sigh of relief. Zandik ushered you to the back where the Lady Harbinger reposed on a white sofa, her cheek brushing a visibly soft and cloud-like pillow. The bright backstage lighting made her seem ethereal.

She looked like heaven, but Zandik would argue that "(Y/n)" is the true epitome of the word.

"Greetings. As expected, you'd initiate conversation at the earliest convenience." She cooed. "You look younger today, Doctor."

"You know very well that I do not take that as a compliment, Columbina." Zandik scoffed. "How many times will we rehearse this canned script until it is a learned lesson?"

"Perhaps it shall end on the day you refrain yourself from recreating… perspectives."

"Since my encounter with the Dendro Archon, I have not revisited that notion."

Columbina's gentle smile dropped coldly. "You know that your segments are not what I am referring to."

You looked back and forth between the two. Each of them was a distinctively unique person and it's a challenge to take your eyes away from the other.

Hence, when you felt Lady Columbina's eyes on you, you shook and straightened yourself before bowing stiffly.

"G-Greetings, Lady Columbina!!!"

Her gentle smile resurfaced.

"Greetings to you as well, dear Safed."

You blinked.

Dottore clicked his tongue, and Columbina laughed softly.

"Apologies, I meant to say (Y/n)— that is the name you go by in this era of humanity, right?"

You'd rightfully claim that between the three of you, you were the most human. Zandik has his clones, Columbina's origins are of strict secrecy, and you are a mere amnesiac patient. But the way she addressed you was sounding awful like stripping you away with that sense of humane identity.

"Yes? I guess?"

Columbina delightedly buzzed in your reply. "(Y/n)— truly a lovely name. That must mean that you're very healthy! It warms my heart to hear that name again. The other ones had terribly dull names, but if the Doctor had given you this title, then it must mean his research is finally drawing to a close."

Her remarks made little sense. You know little about yourself and trust only the Doctor's judgment. Should you trust her words, then it must mean (Y/n) isn't your real name…

But… that doesn't seem right either.

"Not quite, the name deserves no celebration," Dottore replied happily. "I merely ran out of translations. Bianco, Wit, Bái— what else is there? Ancient Natlan?"

"Scientists truly make for terrible poets— Why not try Inazuman?" Columbina offered.

Those words must have had a heavy weight to them because Zandik pondered for much longer than expected.

"Hmm. I'll keep that in mind," Zandik muttered. "Although it is preferable it does not have to reach that point."

"May I ask why did you bring them here?" Columbina asked.

"It's a bit of an unconventional experiment, but I've been exploring how to elicit positive associations with certain stimuli. Exposing them to music as I accompany them should cause them to associate the emotional response it elicits with being around me." Dottore hummed. "It would be asinine to put them in a chaotic yet controlled environment such as a theme park. While a racing heart may be effective, I shouldn't risk a (Y/n)'s well-being by subjecting them to roller coasters."

"Are you sure you're not the scared one?" You asked cheekily. Zandik rolled his eyes.

She shook her head.

"What a roundabout way of saying you're taking them out on a concert date…"

Columbina looked at you once more.

"Oh, but (Y/n), you appear unwell, my dear…" she pointed at stage left. "Why don't you fix yourself up in the nearest restroom?"

Dottore raised an eyebrow, which made you want to decline Columbina.

"I'm r-really okay, Lady Colum—"

"I insist."

Columbina smiled wider. Her laced mask cast a gloomy shade on her visage.

You had no other choice.

"O… Okay."

The halls that led to the restroom were mostly empty. Perhaps it was due to Lady Columbina's performance that made them patiently await the next song.

But there was one young man you encountered along the way. He had blonde half-way braided hair and purple-ish eyes. You paid him no mind as he circled a small rectangular paper, likely the concert's ticket, between his fingers. However, within a second, that paper vanished.

You stopped in your tracks and looked at him curiously, wondering if your eyes played tricks. He laughed, noting your attention.

"Ah! Sorry," he cheerfully gestured a small wave. "Didn't mean to practice in public."

The blonde man approached you with a smile.

"You're #9805, right?"

Immediately, you both got on the wrong foot.

Your nose scrunched, "I prefer (Y/n)."

The man flinched. "Oh, yikes! I'm not making the best first impression— nice to meet you (Y/n)! I have something for you."

You thought he was handing you his concert ticket for a moment but when you took a good look, it was a grayscale brochure.

And a white tulip…

"Um…"

"Needless to say, I'm something of a—"

"Trickster?"

"Magician, but an astute guess nonetheless!" He laughed sheepishly. "I was waiting for you, I thought you wouldn't go to the restroom."

So, did Lady Columbina plan this?

You caressed the binding and skimmed through the pages. "What's this for?"

"Father said you might be interested in its contents," the young man said. "That's all."

You blinked.

"... Are you saying you missed out most of the concert just to hand me this?"

He laughed awkwardly again. "My dear sister says I have a habit of missing a hint of romanticism when it counts, so I guess today's just one of those moments."

"Did you not like the music?" You scoffed, temper rising.

"Did you hate the composition? Did you not understand the e-emotion behind the chords? Don't you understand just how d-disrespectful that was?!"

"Woah, woah, I didn't say any of that." His eyes widened.

He didn't expect your voice to crack.

"I'm so sorry if you're offended— are you one of the original composers?"

…

You took a deep breath.

… Why were you mad?

… Why did it feel like those songs mean more to you than meets the eye?

"Sorry, I just…" You shook your head. "I guess I'm not feeling well. Oh, no, I'm so SO sorry…"

An unknown part of you thrived to hear him praise the music. That same part pitied the composer who worked day and night to perfect their piece. It's an ugly voice, but it was sincere.

… What was wrong with you? Why did you suddenly lash out? What was going on?

"Oh, well there's no need to be sorry then." The blonde man took his hat off and bowed.

"Farewell, Mx. (Y/n)!" He grinned. "The greatest magician in all Teyvat will take his leave. Thank you for your time!"

With the sway of his dark cape, he disappeared.

You entered the restroom to wash your face. It didn't do much to soothe your nerves. The lingering dread for your strange emotional mood swing remained.

To distract yourself, you read through the article.

The Enigmatic Legacy of Composer Safed

In the annals of musical history, few figures emerge as enigmatic and hauntingly captivating as the orchestral composer, Safed. Born five centuries ago amidst the ancient woodlands of Sumeru, this ethereal musician seemingly materialized from Vanarama with no familial relations.

Huh… So it's about the one who wrote the previous compositions earlier.

No wonder that blonde man asked if you were one of the composers. He was being a smartass.

A Fiery Finale: The Pathétique Symphony

Legend has it that in their final act of emotional expression, Safed penned the "Pathétique Symphony," a composition so emotionally charged that, overwhelmed with disdain for their creation, they purportedly set ablaze their woodland home. Seeking solace and escape, Safed accepted the benevolent offer of a city-dwelling benefactor.

…

Safed… burned down their house?

No…

No, that's not how you remembered that.

No.

No. No. No. No. No.

That's not what happened. "Safed" didn't burn their house down.

Suddenly, you stilled. Your thoughts ran wild, but your inner rationale tried to force them to a halt. This peak in anxiety did not make sense.

… Why would an amnesiac like you know what happened?

A Swansong: Il Dottore's Beneficence

Their benefactor, now celebrated as our Lord Harbinger, Il Dottore, welcomed Safed into the city's heart. It was here that the truth unfolded: Safed had been grappling with hearing loss for years, an affliction that fueled their artistic brilliance yet cloaked them in a muffled world. They were unaware of their disability, yet thrived in their field.

…

Wait…

Before you began to read the final paragraph in Safed's brochure, you hurriedly went back to Dottore and the composer's vintage photographed portraits.

After seeing their face, you dropped the brochure in the restroom's sink.

You saw their face.

You saw YOUR face and Zandik's.

But not quite. That was you, but at the same time, it wasn't. Zandik looked stiff in those photos with "you", likely a product of the time since Kamera photography was used only in rare formalities that required a bit of dress up. But the "you" you saw was sickly way beyond the formal costumes. They had (e/c) eyes and (h/c) hair, but yours were all white.

White…

Safed… That's the Sumeru translation for white, isn't it?

Bianco, Wit, Bái— they're all translations for "white", aren't they? And if Dottore and Columbina's earlier conversations were to go by, the one after you would be named Shiro.

…

The one… after you?

"Tut tut."

You trembled at the familiar sound.

You slowly turned your head around and there he was, leaning against the restroom door.

"You were in the restroom for too long. It appears my suspicions were not unfounded."

Without waiting for a response, he approached with large strides. His gloved hands seized your stressed shoulders. The grip tightened harshly as he forced you to meet his intense gaze. Blood trailed from the corner of your mouth, and your anxiety heightened. He angrily bared his sharp teeth as he watched it stain his gloves.

And yet Zandik looks…

Sad.

And distressed.

He pressed his earpiece.

"Test Subject #9805 exhibits troubling symptoms. Hematemesis suggests a severe physiological response. Persistent manifestations of albinism in ocular and follicular pigmentation indicate underlying deformities. Immediate isolation is warranted for the researcher and subject's well-being."

His hand was cold. Skin imbued with silver nanomaterials after several operations, reminiscent of the age-old philosophical question: "Is it still the same ship if you gradually replace all of its parts?"

Then Zandik did something unexpected.

He dropped his hold and you prepared yourself by shutting your eyes as he swung his arm.

To hug you.

"I'm sorry, I have failed you again, (Y/n)," Zandik muttered. "I should not have raised my expectations."

"W… What? Why are you putting me in isolation?" You asked, rattled. "What have I done?! I just— I didn't do anything wrong! What did I—"

He shifted, dragging your arm to hug him back as though you were a little girl's doll. Zandik rested his head on your shoulder, shaking slightly.

"In your innocence, no fault lies. I thought I had accomplished what I had set out to do, and met unfulfilled expectations" Zandik gritted his teeth, voice somber. "Despite centuries of refinement, it appears that I still have room for improvement in perfecting the process… I was right. This deserves no celebration."

The doctor laughed sadly.

"When will I ever be proven wrong?" He asked himself as he wiped the blood off the corner of your lips.

He pulled away, pecking your forehead.

"I'm sorry."

Those were not the words you expected from his mouth, and yet you heard it more than once. I'm sorry. It does not fit his character, nor does the tender yet cold hug he had given prior.

You're scared. You're terrified. You know what was bound to come. You know what awaits you. White walls. Silence. Separation.

Solitary.

Far from a choice. Far from negotiable.

There's no amnesty.

And yet, the words flowed from you naturally.

"... I forgive you."

You have no idea why you said what you said. There's no certainty that you believed your own words. Zandik's lip twitched downward.

"You should not," Zandik croaked. "Why? Why must you always forgive and accept my selfishness? Do you derive satisfaction in seeing me in this state?!"

You opened your mouth to answer but were stopped abruptly as he grabbed your hair.

Zandik had always favored you compared to other patients. You know this very well. He's an evil man and the list of actions he had done that had harmed you in the name of science is at least two pages long upon your awakening. Yet, you were sure he liked you enough for he told you of his new exciting experiments. He scolded you when you left his research institute for fresh air. And he would hold your hand whenever you dreaded those thick injections.

You just didn't know he had it in him to fold from his intimidating facade just to kiss you like a desperate man.

Breathless under his control, he softly pressed his lips against yours. His lips were chapped and cold, and he took you in gently as though he'd break you. Zandik, as strange as it was, still seemed to prioritize your comfort over his needs. Normally, this tension would've made him so short-tempered. But this will be your last interaction. The doctor tasted your blood in his mouth, and he was nauseous at the thought of hurting you more. But he stopped. Even though he wishes to force all his pent-up desires onto you. Even though he wanted to love you thoroughly that you'd forget your name again.

Zandik whimpered quietly as he pulled away— sounding like a dog that would not sleep that night. What was left in between was a thin disappearing line of saliva and blood that quickly broke off.

The doctor should be happy he finally got to have a proper date with you after 9805 failed attempts.

But he's not content.

He was about to lean in for the second time but stopped himself. Selfish. To think he nearly saw you two finally walking down the aisle. Why was he always so selfish when it came to you? But those rhetorics mattered not in your head.

You were silenced. You were held.

You were loved.

"No." Zandik breathed in, laughing humorlessly. "No— I am the scholar here. Don't answer."

And you will be disposed of.

"Take them away." He spoke to his men calmly. They had entered long enough to witness what he had done. The men did not hesitate to grab you, thinking Dottore thought you no more than a mere toy.

But calm was deceptive. It does not convey the distress that chokes him.

Maybe…

Maybe in the 9806's trial… he'll have you as he always wanted.

The Fatuus that escorted you in was gentle. A silent guide. The expression on her face was clear that she wanted to extend her apologies as well but mustn't.

You already have a white tulip in hand.

Arlecchino already sended her regards in advance.

When she opened the door by tapping a card against the lock, she bowed her head. You let yourself enter without a fight. The room was pure white with the rest of the furniture matching the drapes. But Dottore didn't just provide the necessities. There were books, sketch pads, and other recreational materials.

As you were about to approach the center, something was off on both sides.

You looked to your left.

Two clear mirrors divided your room from the others. There's a sign on the left wall. Code #4135.

You stood, shocked, grieving at the sight of your predecessor. They were a mirror of you but with a different name— and an even worse state.

One had made a slight sound coming off their skin— rotting slightly. There's a tube connected to their mouth and you could see yourself— you could see them dripping. They had your face. Their hair and eyes were white. The nose was gone, leaving a gaping hole. Their neck was cricked back at an unnatural angle. You don't know if they're still breathing. They're still bleeding. They must've bitten off their tongue.

There's a lone white blanket that covers the rest of them.

You think they might be dead.

You think "you" might've died more than once.

THUD!

You jolted at the sound coming from the wall behind you. Upon seeing their body, you froze.

Code #032.

They were but a head. You wish you could only focus on that aspect, but you looked lower and your hair raised. They cannot feel the same, for they were almost only a spine left. The rest of them were their skeletal frame, guided by thin lines one can barely call flesh.

Their head banged against the mirror. The thought that the sound was what made you flinch earlier made you unwell.

They seem to be telling you something. Their breath fogged up the glass and their thinned white hair splayed across your view. Their mouth said something urgently you couldn't comprehend because their tongue was paper-like in size.

#032 was shaking. Their pain grew vivid in every movement that the room was starting to spin. You sensed their turmoil.

They looked like death.

You all looked like death itself, both the pretty and ugly ends of it.

"Don't." You whispered, begging as you knelt to their level. "You don't have to speak."

You laughed deprecatingly.

"We're not the scholar here. He is."

In every syllable, you saw the outline of their esophagus strain. The nerves were blueish purple. The little skin they have left on their cheeks is sunken. Their lips were gnawed, likely as a response to the pain they'd gone through previously. Fists of bone tapped against the glass, and you quivered, imagining their pain.

You were not afraid of them. You only mourned their anguish. In fact, you feel at ease to be in the presence of yourself from the past.

It reminded you of what "Safed" had allegedly spoken years ago.

Nobody understood the pieces you made and you wished you could conduct the first performance five centuries after your first death.

And now, here you are.

Seeing two "people" who do understand you.

And they share your face.

"Pathetically", the only one that can understand you is yourself.

You're all flies trapped in a web that the predator refuses to wrap and consume out of pity. Compared to the others, you looked fine.

But your lungs were blistering.

Despite their deathly ill and mutilated bodies, you were the one bound to die soon enough.

His experiments worked.

You love him.

You love Zandik.

And how tragic it was that the person who learned how to love him was doomed to perish.

In your last minutes, you recalled something vital:

As an outsider, your body was not meant for this world, but after encountering the woodland creatures and Zandik, it became tremendously difficult to part ways with it.

You coughed up yet again with a gentle smile on your face. Maybe you're not dying…

Maybe you're just returning home, for every atom in your multiple bodies was once part of the galaxy.

You are (Y/n) (L/n).

And you were not from Teyvat.

Much like the rest of the descenders, you have a quirk about you that sets you apart from the norm. For the travelers the world reveres today, it was their distinct determination and questionable age that was remarkable. Yours slightly titters to an inhuman level.

You can "clone" yourself.

Zandik and the "original" you wouldn't phrase it in that manner, but it's the easiest way to describe your talents.

"So, it is cloning." Zandik paused. "Mind letting me in on the science behind the process?"

He was an ordinary student when you both met. Far from a doctor, but at least he was a registered scholar in the Akademiya. Zandik didn't have an eloquent tongue as he does in the present, yet his curiosity burned all the same.

Which is why, back then, you thought his questions were cute.

Not dangerous.

"It's not that I can make copies of myself without consequences," you humored with a grin. "I'm just making… fragments of myself. Segments, if you prefer to call it that. It's a common ability for the people back in my world. None of us do it excessively— especially since we're kind of an invasive species."

Zandik raised an eyebrow, "is that a commendable trait?"

"My kind says so. Whether good is a subjective or objective assessment or not is up to interpretation." You answered noncommittedly. "I don't think that's right. Our soul splits apart until we're just… empty. We lose some memories in the process."

"But functioning?"

"In a sense, yeah, but we lose a part of ourselves like memories and well, hair color, I guess." You nodded. "Why are you so curious?"

"Since you have rejected my confession, I want to try my hand at seducing a copy of yours instead," Zandik said. You couldn't tell whether he was joking with his naturally piercing red eyes. "Until then, you are not allowed to asexually reproduce without my authorization. Understood?"

You laughed. Unaware of his arsonist crimes, you willingly indulged his words.

"I owe you my ears, so it's only right that I'll listen to your commands, Zandik."

"Good." Zandik grinned, shark-like.

"What a good test subject you are, (Y/n)."

Centuries later, that closing sentence will continue to remain true.

Since then, his life has changed. Multiplied, even. Upon studying your genetic makeup, he found ways to duplicate himself as well. Despite his feats in science, Zandik remained unhappy.

Deep down, all the Harbingers pity the Doctor who cannot save his most loved one. That includes both Columbina and Arlecchino.

No one protests even when harmful orders are given; everything appears fine until the symptoms are felt. Because the organism— the astral descender— has no nerves or voice, he continues to assume that the patient is not in pain.

The patient needs peace but because they are not to speak, they remain silent, and the need persists.

The patient wants to eat and breathe fresh air, but because such desires might hurt the feelings of the doctor who thinks he has done everything needed, the patient remains quiet, contemplating desires out of fear of reprimand.

The original (Y/n) (L/n) suffers in silence. In a white room only accessible by a man who continues to nurse his unrequited love: Zandik.

No one else can enter this room.

He won't allow it. Only he can be obsessed with you.

The thought of you haunts him like a smiling reflection upon window panes— like a gift of a Trojan horse with nothing but your echoing laughter and hospital monitor beeps inside. Your thin limbs were marching clock hands with rusted gears that miraculously function till the end of time.

What is immortality for if every day was a death loop?

It is such a lonely concept…

You ought to be thankful that he's willing to be your eternal company.

"I endeavored to elicit a reciprocation of my sentiments from the latest subject. Regrettably, their discovery of my antecedent experiments transpired prematurely. Nevertheless, as asserted several times, it remains but a temporal inevitability until an iteration of yourself succumbs to having an interest towards me." Dottore hummed.

He held your feet.

He held Test Subject #01's feet.

If you spoke up, he would've bragged about how he was right. How people do love your songs. But no one knows if you can't or won't answer him. This one-sided conversation is the punishment for his hubris.

He took out a sharp knife and cut off one of your toes. You no longer feel any pain as you bleed into his hands. What a kind man the doctor is, for he blocked all your pain receptors years ago. It's a good thing you regenerate quickly.

That's what he loved and hated about you.

You only gave and gave.

But you never ran out of soul. You never ran your heart fully dry— and that left you ill. Zandik could never let you go.

You're already a part of him.

Hence, he must not make clones of exaggerated memories. He wanted your perfect yet healthy replica.

Praise be the white corpuscles extracted from your veins which had brought him new life. You were the reason for his research. You were the breath that gave his segments life. You were his muse, much like he was yours.

"Fear not, (Y/n)," he reassured with a measured tone. "Upon my mastery of the arts, I intend to reinstate your autonomy and awareness. Perhaps then, you shall find the organic inclination to reciprocate affection toward me by the 9806's trial. Until then…"

In other words, give him more time and he'll reinvent love.

He leaned his forehead against yours.

"I'm so, so sorry."

And ultimately, he'll reinvent YOU.

"Can I have another piece of your scalp?"

"No."

"Do you not understand the weight of this research or must I expound on it further in another three-hour presentation?"

"Alternatively, you could start by saying that you're sorry," you raised an eyebrow. "I'm still not over the fact you randomly cut a piece of my ear when I was asleep, doctor. You know, I heard from the aranaras that white tulips are given to someone when they ask for forgiveness."

Zandik smirked.

"Regrettably, it seems that such an occurrence is unlikely to transpire. Do not expect such words and gifts from me."

You smiled.

"We'll see, we'll see."

Taglist (pls notify if you wish to be on the taglist for the last two): @average-yandere-enjoyer @pix-stuff @sagekun @vennnnn-diagram @dilucragnidvr @tnsophiaonly @lsleepysimpl

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celestialprincesse · 8 months ago

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𝐒𝐚𝐲 𝐆𝐨𝐨𝐝𝐧𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭 𝐧 𝐆𝐨 - 𝐓𝐡𝐫𝐞𝐞

More Nik just 4 you🫵😚 Trying to make this reasonably slow burn but I just want them to fuck😔

Pts 1 & 2 here!

Nikto is shitting himself. In his enthusiasm to make amends with you, to spend time with you, he completely disregarded his greatest issue. He can't eat with his mask on. He can't very well show you his face when you look like the human embodiment of Tinkerbell, and he looks like - he doesn't really know what he looks like.

Whilst your neighbour is in crisis, you're perfectly happy to flit about your house, debating whether to wear your favourite pink miniskirt or a lacy white dress. The white would compliment the pretty satin kitten heels you're wedded on, and the virginal, snow coloured lingerie set you hope is finally seen by someone who's not you, or your mirror. Your hair is perfectly styled, lipgloss applied with meticulous precision. The outfit is the only spanner in your otherwise beautifully constructed works. You're so giddy that you feel sick.

Your neighbour shares a similar struggle in selecting his outfit, realising that he hasn't taken a woman on a date in a long time, and since then, his muscles have outgrown the sleeves of the suit in the back of his closet, and the pants to match are as moth eaten and neglected as his heart. Of course he wants to look as though he's making an effort - doesn't want to make you feel anymore unwanted by him than you already do, and yet most of his clothes make him look more monolith than man, no decent fit for a woman so soft and feminine as you.

You'd never have expected him to turn up on your doorstep with flowers. Peonies with fluffy pink petals, gently wrapped in a sheet of brown paper, tied up with blush lace. Kind of like you. He would never have dreamed of the way you fling your arms around his neck, tits straining against the thin alabaster fabric of your little dress. "You like them?" He rumbles thickly into your ear, flowers hanging at his side as he wraps his free arm loosely around your back, pushing the thoughts of how the plush skin of your ass would feel in his hands. "They're wonderful." You breathe, taking a sudden step back at the realisation that you've just entirely invaded his precious personal space.

"I need to tell you something." He murmurs, words coming thick from his throat, his confession trapped down in his chest, safe where no one can find it. "Of course, anything." The gentleness in your tone only makes him hesitate further. Why should he corrupt such a soft thing like you? Tie you down to a beast like him? "I am - I need to tell you something, and I understand if you do not want to spend time with me anymore. I am deformed."

Biting your tongue feels practically impossible. You so desperately want to reassure him. How do you tell him that you can see his laundry room window perfectly from your kitchen where you spend most of your time. How do you tell him that you've seen the scars he hides when he puts his mask in the washing machine.

"That's okay." You nod reassuringly. Why is there so much care in your eyes?

"You're sure? I am not handsome." You just want him to let you in. So desperately.

"I promise."

I'm so sorry for writing such short chapters but I need these two to get down and dirty rn💕

#cod mwii #cod mw2 #cod #call of duty #call of duty modern warfare 2 #cod modern warfare #call of duty modern warfare #modern warfare #Nikto #cod nikto #Nikto x reader #nikto x y/n #nikto x f!reader #nikto x you #call of duty nikto #mwii nikto #say goodnight n go

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redphlox · 4 months ago

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the fact is izuku managed to save tenkos soul his body was too far gone due to what afo done to him and the damage in his mind lets be real here if toga and tenko had lived they would have been put in prison for their tragic pasts don't change the people they killed and the fact their identities were well known

Look dude - come closer, come sit down next to me. Lets talk.

I'm not sure how to explain that this is a fantasy story. That means that it doesn't have to reflect our current world 1:1, which has flawed systems. Storied aren't biographies. You can tell the difference between reality and fantasy, yes? I hope so. If your mom let you borrow her phone so that you can get on Tumblr to talk to me, then maybe you can have her explain if you're still confused by the time I'm through with you.

If you're using this argument for why the villains who were humanized by the author had to die cruel deaths in a story that preached about giving people Second Chances, then I'm led to believe that you also believe that Bakugo surviving his exploded heart was realistic. And that's completely unrealistic, just in case you're not sure.

There were a lot of unrealistic aspects to this story, including the part about people having superhuman abilities like creating explosions from their palms and making things float. Those abilities aren't real either, just in case you are confused. You might have picked up this story and thought it was an autobiography or a history textbook, so I advise that you ask your mom to take you to the library and talk to a librarian about the differences between literary genres.

Now - hold on to your seat, this is why I had you sit down; this next part is going to be really perplexing to you if you believe quirks are real - stories are usually used with the purpose of conveying a message, of exploring our Humanity and to experience of some kind of catharsis or emotion using our imaginations. You know the story about The three little pigs? That are also unrealistic, but it serves a purpose - it teaches little kids about perseverance and working hard. The first two little pigs didn't want to put in the effort to make a solid house, so they paid for it in the end with their lives. Do we live in the world where wolves literally come knocking on our doors trying to eat us? No, but we do live in a world where it's important to persevere and work hard. Disney's The Little Mermaid also isn't real, because Mermaids Don't exist, but it dealt with very real human experiences that we all deal with such as feeling out of place in the world, our identity, etc.

So, you can see that authors use fantasy stories to explore very real human emotions, social issues, what have you. BNHA starts off like that too. The very first words are exactly, "people are not all born equal", and it goes on to tell the story of a teen who's basically considered disabled because he's different. He's bullied, discriminated against, and he deals with very real human experiences such as disregarding authority to go after a friend he really cares about because he felt it was the right heroic thing to do, experiencing death (Night eye, Midnight), dealing with abusive parents (Endeavor) and comforting abuse victims (Shouto, Eri.)

These characters are not real, but they go through very real human experiences. These are real world issues.

You're still following me, right? Characters and stories aren't real, but their issues usually reflect real life issues.

All right. Not that we've established that stories often and talk about real world problems that we experience in everyday life, let's talk about how authors can approach these topics. It's all about using different Tools in your writing to convey your message.

Let's go back to my example with the Three Little Pigs. The moral of the story, the message, the theme, is that hard work pays off. If you slack off, you're possibly putting yourself in danger. But what if the last little pig's house had fallen down anyway despite his hard work? What if the wolf had eaten him anyway? Then the moral of the story is no longer that hard work pays off. The moral of the story is that no matter how hard you work, sometimes things just don't work out the way you imagined or planned.

Okay - so, which one of these morals is more realistic? That your hard work always pays off, or that sometimes, no matter how hard you work, you fail? I'm not sure where you are in life, but it's the second one. It's true. Sometimes no matter how hard you work, life fucks you in the ass without prep. People go to college with the aspirations of becoming medical doctors and can't get into med school no matter how many straight As, perfect grades they get. They worked hard, yet they didn't achieve what they wanted. Many families have a two income household but still can't make ends meet because of unexpected expenses such as medical bills, car accidents, deaths etc. You could be the world's most safe driver and still die in a car accident because of someone else's negligent driving.

That's the harsh reality of life. Does that mean that the moral of the Three Little Pigs story is wrong? No. It's a story and it teaches a really important lesson about resilience and survival. In a perfect world in that story, hard work always pays off. That's comforting to adults and helps little kids understand the importance of persevering and working hard. Those are good qualities to have.

Sometimes a storys themes and messages don't align with the readers personal views of the world but that doesn't mean the writing is bad. You could even have a moral disagreement with the themes presented in a story but have the writing still be good writing. For example, I personally don't agree that hard work always pays off. But in reference to The Three Little Pig, when it's a story for little kids, I agree that the writing fits. If I were the author of The Three Little pigs, I would make the theme be, "it's always good to work hard, but if your dreams don't come true then that's okay." I would write a story about all the pains of working hard and meeting failure but then overcoming it and being happy anyway in the face of failure. The story's theme would be resilience, not about hard work always paying off.

But the Three Little Pigs isn't like I just decribed, so do I think it's bad writing? No, because the theme of the story matches the conclusion .

This is where My Hero Academia fails. The beginning of the story, all the messages about giving people Second Chances , fall flat. It presented a highly nuanced issue that's very real to the world we're living in about reforming criminals and getting to the core of understanding criminal behavior. The story presented itself like it would address this issue with societal change... and instead it gave us superficial change such as holding hands with victims who appear to be blameless and morally pure like Eri and that new mysterious crying boy who is literally nameless.

The issue with that is that it's really naive. A lot of times, people who break the law, people in need - mentally ill people, the sick, the poor aren't perfect victims. I work in a hospital and a lot of the people who seek treatment REFUSE to heed the doctor's medical opinion. Does that mean that they deserve to die? No. Does that mean I should give up on them? No, I'm going to educate.

Following the logic of BNHA though, you would give up on these people. The suicidal person who's about to jump off the bridge? Well, if they don't take your hand willingly, then why should you keep trying to save them? The crying boy at the end is only saved because he took the grandma's hand. What if he had pushed her away? If he had, the story's logic says that he deserves whatever is coming to him. And of course this is a more nuanced topic than I'm portraying it to be - victims and people in need also have a role in helping themselves, but this story makes it seem like they get only one chance and they're doomed if they don't take it. Which is literally a message that the story presents through Endeavor and Gentle and La Brava: people deserve second chances. But only specific people, according to the story. It teaches you that not all people are born equal. Which is literally what the story set out to disprove.

Do you see how the math isn't mathing?

#bnha #bnha critical #bnha 429

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bagdaddyb · 1 year ago

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Self Centered

Summary: Wednesday realizes just how self-centered she has been. (reader has powers connected to nature)

Pairing: fem!Reader x Wednesday

Warning: slight angst

AN: Love the Wednesday character. Cold emotionless cutoff while also sadistic mean and cruel

"No Wednesday."

Those were the words you'd muttered to the girl before disappearing into the crowd. No. Wednesday was almost unsure how to process it. Since she'd came to this school of miscreants there hadn't been a single person not willing to bend to her will and since you'd started.... whatever it is you have with Wednesday you'd never turned away from any of her desires. So what changed? By the time Wednesday has recovered from the blatant rejection you're long gone and she's left to do nothing but return to Ophelia hall. She goes over the whole interaction again, taking note of your slumped shoulders and baggy eyes. You weren't yourself today, honestly if Wednesday truly thought about it you hadn't been yourself for some time. How long had it been since your demeanor changed? You don't smile at her anymore, you never seek her attention. When was the last time she'd spoken to you before today? She's been so caught up trying to investigate her stalker that she's completely neglected other parts of her life. Entering her shared room she's unsurprised and slightly disappointed to see Enid laying in her bed speaking with Thing.

"I just don't think this color suits your skin tone, the lighter green would go much better."

Thing taps and signs in response causing Enid to gasp.

"You take that back."

Upon hearing the door close the blonde's attention is grabbed eyes locking with black ones.

"Hey Weds, how's the investigation? Did (Y/N) agree to head into the forest with you tonight?"

"No."

The ravenette says as she neatly deposits her things on her side of the room moving towards her desk chair to start her writing hour.

"I'm not surprised."

Enid lets out in response gaze moving back to the display of nail polishes she put out for Thing to choose from. This catches Wednesday's attention, turning in her chair she burns Enid with her glare.

"Why is that?"

"Well she literally almost died during your last 'investigation' when she was stabbed and said "I'm never helping you again Wednesday Addams" while I stitched her up."

Before she continues Enid lets out a sigh muttering she's gonna kill me under her breath before continuing.

"And I'm going to tell you this because you're my best friend, (Y/N) has been unhappy for some time. You treat her more like your minion than partner. You drag her along on these dangerous stunts where she almost always gets hurt yet you never put forth any effort into the relationship, the last few things she's agreed to have been purely because thats the only way she gets to spend time with you. She is tired of it all being one sided so you need to get your act together unless you want to loose this relationship you pretend to not care about."

As Enid speaks its like a light bulb pops above Wednesday's head, recalling past encounters, conversations, and arguments she now finds herself feeling conflicted over. Standing abruptly Wednesday leaves her room, completely disregarding Enid and her writing hour. She needed to find you. It was never her intention to use you, or was it? She'd been approaching this like she would approach anything else but she now realizes that in and of itself is the problem. This isn't anything else. As much as she will deny it she cares for you in a way that is completely foreign to her. Arriving at your dorm room she knocks three times. Waiting only thirty seconds before knocking again.

"I'm coming, I'm coming."

Wednesday bites back her snarky remarks when Bianca opens your shared dorm door. The siren does nothing to hide her disgusted face in turn.

"(Y/N) isn't here. She's always in the gardens during this time. Of course you'd know that if you cared about anyone other than yourself."

That is all the ravenette gets before the door is slammed in her face, Wednesday's eyebrows furrow as she turns on her heel. Just how self centered had she been? In her eight months of knowing you and five months of courting she'd learned little to nothing about you. Besides physical attributes and your general knowledge Wednesday never made an effort to get to know you better lazer focused on the hyde investigation then later her stalker you were always kept on the back burner. For the first time in her life guilt washes over her and it makes her bristle. Her feet move quickly towards the garden, entering she doesn't even have to look following your voice carrying through the flowers. Wednesday can't help the way her lips turn in disgust as she walks, the garden was to bright countless flowers planted aimlessly with no value yet she couldn't deny the health of the garden. Every flower in bloom properly watered and glowing. Coming around a corver she sees why observing you as you sang along the the music coming from your phone. You fingers were at work using your powers to meticulously grow different flowers and plants in healthy soil. You worked diligently so immersed in it that you fail to notice the brooding aura observing you. You fill the flower box you're working on with purple lillies a beautiful contrast to the blue bachelor buttons in the box next to it. Stepping back you observe your work humming in approval before turing to head to a different part of the garden. The moment you spin you freeze eyes meeting black ones you'd never once seen in the garden before. You are truly at a loss of words at the girls presence as she'd never once seeked your company and for a moment you consider pinching yourself. Surely this must be a dream.

"Wednesday? Ummmmm.... what are you doing here?"

"I came to apologize."

Okay now you were sure you were dreaming. You look around before pinching yourself.

"I must be living in the matrix."

You say before looking around again. Not sure if this is true reality. Silence envelopes both of you as Wednesday stares realizing she's never truly had to apologize. Especially not of her own volition. She's stumped on what to say or do but you don't wait long scoffing you begin to walk past the ravenette.

"If this is your way of apologizing spare me."

Wednesday stays quiet denying herself the mean and witty response knowing it wouldn't help her situation as she starts to form words in her brain she follows you past a dead section of the garden three planters tucked away in the middle of the garden that you don't even glance at as you continue foreward. Wednesday pauses for a moment taking in the uncared for section in contrast to the overly cared for garden before moving to quickly catch up with you.

"(Y/N) I apologize for my previous actions. As surprising as it may be I have not realized the fault until now. You are more than my pawn but I have failed to treat you as such. So I hope you can forgive me."

You merely hum in response not taking your eyes off the planter you stood infront of.

"Ok Wednesday."

You dig your figures in the soil trying to decide what would look best in the array of colors before you. Wednesday can tell her words have little affect and the fact that she may of already lost you causes her stomach to unsettle. Not easily detered she sticks around watching you mend the soil before speaking up again.

"That patch back there full of dead plants, why did you walk right past it? You seem very keen on keeping everything else in the garden grown and healthy."

You jump when she speaks honestly surprised that she was still there.

"Ummmm.."

You hesitate before releasing a sigh and turning to face Wednesday.

"It was a patch of flowers I grew for you when we first began our relationship. I grew them in the beginning as a gift symbolizing the start of our bond. I was going to show them to you the first time I invited you to the garden but as your rejections grew harsher and the light of what our relationship truly was shined brighter..... I stopped caring for the flowers. Now the bushes are barren and dead yet still as symbolic as ever."

You release another sad sigh eyes dropping to the ground before turning back towards the soil.

"If you don't mind Wednesday I'd like to be alone. I'm sure you have more important matters to attend to."

More important. The words Wednesday used everytime you've invited her to the garden. Everytime you've asked to spend time together in Jericho. Everytime you've tried to have conversation about anything other than her current obsession. Everytime you tried to engage her in a subject or activity revolving around you. She'd made you feel unimportant.

"No I don't."

Wednesday pauses a moment unhappy with how unstable her voice sounded.

"While I have failed to prove it in the past you are the most important thing in my life. I...... care for you deeply and I do not wish for our relationship to be forgetten, barren, and dead. This is all new to me..... these feelings, this bond.... but I won't allow myself to be held back by my lack of knowledge. So I will sit here all night if I have to. Today, tomorrow, and the next if that is what it takes for you to forgive me."

Your vision becomes cloudy as tears form in your eyes, the once grey sky becoming dark with clouds and as the first drop falls so does your first tear. This was all you ever wanted, effort. Tears fall as your heart pounds in your chest after finally being showed you meant something to the Addams girl and if that wasn't enough the feeling of a hand wrapping around your forarm was.

"I'm sorry mon cher."

Another apology things that were unknown from Wednesday Addams coupled with physical contact something you'd never experienced from the girl.

"I forgive you."

#wednesday netflix #wednesday addams x reader #wednesday x reader #wednsday addams #maybe the beginning of something more #bagdaddyb

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141goblin · 7 months ago

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Hi people. I’ve been toying with the idea of writing a fanfic and I thought i’d put a feeler out there to see if people are interested in reading my silly little brain worms and thoughts. Word of warning, it’s little rusty and definitely still a work in progress. I don’t yet have a title or anything like that, but i wanna share (ok ok leave me alone)

Part one: Soft.

Reader described as plus-sized. Fem reader. Implied past abusive relationship.

John Price X Reader.

“Amelia, I said no!” I huff into the phone, getting increasingly frustrated at my best friend’s insistence. She had been going on and on about some big military party that her boyfriend was going to, and of course, because we’re basically attached at the hip, she ‘needs me there’.

“Oh, come onnnn! It’ll be fun! And who knows, we might finally find you a man for you to spend time with instead of you sitting in your apartment and watching reruns of gilmore girls twenty-four-seven.”

I huff and roll my eyes, grateful that she isn’t able to see me. Honestly, the thought of having to drag myself off of my couch and go through the motions of getting ready and attempting to doll myself up makes me feel physically ill. Truth be told, I haven’t left my apartment for weeks. Not since i had that god-awful night with my arsehole of an ex boyfriend.

My mind drifts back to that night, the time I spent getting ready and psyching myself up, all for me to get there and be completely disregarded and used. Like a piece of meat. He’d been blowing up my phone with messages ever since, insisting he was sorry, and that it won’t happen again, and he just got carried away. I hadn’t had the mental capacity to message him back.. My best friends voice pulls me back to reality.

“You’re coming. I’ll be at your flat in twenty minutes with pre drinks. Shower and shave.”

Before I get any chance to worm my way out of this ridiculous ordeal, she kisses me good-bye through the phone and hangs up. I throw my phone to the opposite end of the couch and groan into a pillow. Just when I was settled, watching gilmore girls for the umpteenth time, with a glass of wine and a bowl of crisps… Shit, maybe I do need to get out…

I down the rest of my glass of wine and wince at the taste. I make a mental note to stop being cheap and buying shit wine just because it’s cheaper. After all, it’s not like I can’t afford to buy nicer tasting wine. But truthfully, I don’t go to tescos at 8pm in my pyjamas and buy nice wine to be all sophisticated. I do it to buy cheap wine and get drunk while i watch gilmore girls and cry, wishing i had the same relationship with my mother that Lorelai and Rory have. It’s pitiful, and pathetic.

I huff and drag myself off of my couch and make my way into my bathroom to shower. Once undressed, i notice just how hairy my legs have gotten. But, is it really worth the effort, the sweating and red face just to have smooth legs? I brush off the thought and step into the hot shower. I do my usual: wash and condition my hair, wash my face and body, and then actually decide to shave my goddamn legs. It takes me the better part of fifteen minutes, but beauty is pain, as they say.

Just as i’m stepping out of the bathroom, wrapped in a towel that’s all too small to cover my stomach and wide thighs, my best friend makes herself known, clearly having used her spare key to let herself into my flat. Her face is all scrunched up in disgust at the state of the place and she’s begun to pick up my clothes that are strewn about the place, throwing them into the washing machine. I roll my eyes and make my way into my bedroom, and she follows. She has that shit-eating grin on her face that I know all too well. No doubt she’s going to make me squeeze into some tiny outfit in the hopes i’ll impress some random man and hopefully let him fuck my brains out. She’s highly mistaken.

Instead of a skimpy outfit, we compromise. I end up wearing a mid-length silk dress that has a risky slit up the leg, but not too high that it shows off my cellulite, one of my biggest insecurities. She does up my hair into a messy bun with a few curls framing my face and insists on me wearing her favourite red lipstick, telling me i’ll look ‘fuckable’, her words, not mine. After strapping some heels onto my feet I take one last look in the mirror, face slightly flushed from the two or three glasses of wine Amelia practically poured down my throat to loosen me up. I should feel beautiful, but I don’t. I can’t help but feel like a pig, wrapped in silk and smothered in ridiculous lipstick. Ready to be taken off to market and ridiculed by men that think it’s shameful to like a fat girl. My ex-boyfriend’s attitude and words from the duration of our relationship echoing around my head.

“They don’t see you like I do, babe. They don’t see your personality.”

“You’re wearing that?”

“Oh come on, babe. I was only looking at her. She’s a model, what do you expect?”

After a too long uber ride full of pep-talks by Amelia and discreetly drinking from the remnants of a bottle of wine, we’re standing outside of what can only be described as a fucking mansion. The type that has stairs leading up to its entrance that’s held up by beautifully structured pillars, the type of place i write about in my short stories. There are too many windows to count, most of them lit up by subtle golden glow, the soft buzz of music that’s able to be heart from outside, something soft and jazzy, like the type of music you’d hear in an old jazz bar in New York.

I’m too busy marvelling at the ‘fucking mansion’ in front of me when I hear the recognisable voice of Amelia’s boyfriend, Johnny. Johnny is the type of guy that can make any girl weak in the knees with his charming smile and sparkling blue eyes. He’s sweet and cheeky, but not my type.

“There you two are! Was beginning ‘ter think ‘yaes got lost.”

I give Johnny a polite smile and continue looking up at the grandeur of the building in-front of me while he gives Amelia a kiss and whispers something flirty in her ear. Johnny and Amelia are solid, and he’s good for her. Plus, he knows we come as a package deal, so he makes sure to make me feel included when I end up tagging along on their days out or evening drinks.

“Looking good, bonnie.” Johnny says to me, with a cheeky wink. Amelia laughs, her signature sweet giggle, and it’s clear why she turns heads everywhere we go.

I force a smile and hold back a self-deprecating remark.

“Thanks, Johnny.”

Amelia takes Johnny by the arm and leads her inside, making me follow like an awkward third wheel. I try my best not to feel like an idiot as i’m led into the main ballroom, where i assume the party is being held. Johnny leads us to the bar and buys the three of us a round of drinks. I try to insist that I can buy my own, but both he and Amelia dismiss it and i’m left with a blueberry Martini sitting in front of me at the bar.

After a few minutes of awkward small talk between the three of us, mixed in with too much PDA between Johnny and Amelia for my liking, Johnny leads Amelia off to meet some of his friends, leaving me alone at the bar. I hoist myself onto a barstool, arse spilling over the edge. Fuck sake, I think. People need to start inventing barstools that are fat-girl friendly. I ignore the buzz of chatter in the ballroom and down the rest of my blueberry martini, flagging down the bartender for another one.

I begin sipping on the fresh Martini and start looking back around the room. I can’t help but think this would be a perfect scene to write in one of my stories. A room packed full of rich people dressed in fancy suits and expensive dresses, where everyone pretends to be on their best behaviour.

After a few minutes of being alone at the bar, I make peace with the fact that I will likely be alone for most of the night while Amelia mingles with Johnny and his friends. It doesn’t bother me, per say, but something deep within my belly wishes that one, just once, I could be the one to turn heads, to capture the attention of a group of people with nothing but my appearance and laugh, to have people willing to talk to me and learn about me, without feeling like it’s out of pity.

I shrug to myself and take a few more sips of my martini and let my attention wander over to my best friend and her boyfriend, and his group of (presumably) military friends. Johnny must’ve noticed me sitting alone at the bar and felt pity for me because I see him making his way over, sporting his disarming smile. I smile back.

“What’s the matter, Lass? Not enjoying ‘yerself?”

He leans on the bar casually, and it’s clear he’s making an effort to make me feel included.

“I’m enjoying myself just fine, Johnny. You can go back to your mates and Amelia, don’t worry about me.”

He cocks a brow and flashes that cheeky grin.

“Not gonna join us?”

I shake my head and take another sip of my martini, waving a dismissive hand. I attempt to play it off with a joke.

“Doubt i’d fit in with your military mates.”

He scoffs and looks jokingly offended.

“Aye, come on, Bonnie. We don’t bite. I know Si looks like a scary fucker, but we’re a nice bunch. I swear.”

I laugh and take another sip. Johnny is a good guy, there’s no denying that, even if it does feel like he’s taking pity on his girlfriends fat, single friend that looks like she’d rather be anywhere but here.

Judging from the way he talks about ‘Si’, I make an assumption that he’s the one with the dirty-blonde hair, the one who’s built like a brick shit-house and looks like he could snap anyone in half with one hand.

Johnny points to one of the other lads, a typical pretty boy with striking brown eyes.

“That’s Gaz. He’s a good’un. Likes to flirt too much, but e’s harmless.”

I follow Johnny’s finger as he points to the third man. A man who’s wide, and fucking muscly, but looks like he has a soft layer of fat underneath that expensive suit of his.

“And that, that’s the Cap’n. The best of us all. Keeps us in check when we cause trouble. He won’t admit it, but he’s a softie at heart.”

My eyes stay on the wide man a little longer than the others. I see a smile under his well-groomed mutton chops and moustache that’s peppered with little greys here and there. His shoulders look like they’re about to burst out of his shirt at any given moment, and his hips are exactly the same. That’s all contrasted by his blue eyes, like a deep pool that women no doubt get lost in. The man’s a fucking contradiction. Too wide, Too soft.

Johnny’s voice snaps me back into the room, averting my eyes away from the man I know as ‘Captain’.

“Come on, Bonnie. Come say hello, mingle a little. We don’t bite.”

#call of duty #john soap mactavish #john price #john price x reader #self indulgent #modern warfare #fem reader #plus sized reader

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fridgrave2-0 · 2 months ago

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(something for partners in crime au where felix and turbo both go gamejumping)

once felix overheard a conversation ralph had with gene. ralph was (once again) trying to get positive attention from nicelanders and said that him breaking the building means nothing bc felix has a magic hammer and puts zero effort into the house, for him fixing it is super easy. and this thought stayed in his head. felix started thinking a lot about what he's doing in his life and that without his hammer he is a nobody. on his own he can't fix shit, and when he tried to build something it was worse than what ralph made in the movie for q*bert. it got to the point when felix went to tapper's and got drunk for the first time, and turbo had to get him out of this. turbo was genuinely worried for felix because they knew each other for several years at this point and never it was so bad. mostly it was turbo who had some bad times and felix was comforting him, but now they switched roles in this situation, and turbo tried his best to help. he reassured felix that he'll help him learn at least the basics of building stuff on their own without the hammer, and this was able to cheer felix up. they were taking bricks and other junk to try and make something new out of it - and some time after they actually were able to make some progress, and turbo decided to live in one of the houses (they were experimenting in turbotime most of the time) and while they were working on it, turbo was slowly helping felix accept the fact what his worth doesn't start or ends on having this hammer, and tho it definitely does its job it's not disregarding felix's personality or skills. like yeah, he's the greatest racer in the arcade, but he still continues training and working on his skills, and it's totally ok what felix needed time to get there as well

in the end it helped felix a lot, and after weeks and months of practice he was ready to try something new. building things on his own actually made felix realize that he loves working on design and styles. every building he was making was unique and special because he was putting his soul into it, and this creative process made felix feel something he only knew when he was with turbo. like he actually was alive and not just a piece of code made by someone. the things he was making were his, they were reflecting his personality, his feelings. and they were making him happy when he was ready to try and change niceland, it was the project he put the most of him into. with turbo's (unexpected) drawing skills they designed a completely new building, detailed and magnificent. felix was remaking the niceland for the whole night going beyond the limits of his coding, the hammer was used only to solidify the changes. the house turned out to be just what he wanted, and it was beautiful. for a brief moment even turbo was out of words, he couldn't turn away from the piece of art felix created. there was nothing like it in the arcade, and perhaps even in the whole world. for some unknown reason turbo felt inspired that day, doing his best to break his own limits on the track later that day. he wished he could just return to fix-it felix jr and see the happiness and pride flourish in his boyfriend's eyes. felix did deserve it like no one else

but when turbo came back this evening, niceland looked like it always did. a dull brick penthouse. he found felix at the dump, he looking at pieces of broken marble and colored stone with an empty face. "the game is programmed so that when the building is repaired, it returns to its original appearance. when the day just started, there were untouched bits, something what ralph didn't break. but in the end, everything was wrecked." felix hugged his knees and sobbed when turbo sat down next to him. "it all was for nothing. i can't exceed the code. no matter what i do, it will be destroyed! all i can is to fix this stupid house over and over and over again until they decide to unplug my game. we don't have any control over our lives. this is what's left for us." felix grabbed a piece of marble and threw it far into the pile of red bricks, his hands were shaking when turbo caught them in his. felix couldn't see the anger in his eyes growing. when turbo pulled felix closer, he glanced over the glass of the cabinet and looked at the arcade. "don't worry, love..." he gently stroked felix's hair, "i will figure it out. i promise." it was january of 1987

#some felix angst for you #80s boyfriends #hammertastic #partners in crime au #turbo #turbotastic #fix it felix jr #wreck it ralph #wir #q

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cobaltperun · 10 months ago

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Woe out the Storm - Shelter from the Storm

Wednesday Addams x female Reader

Summary: It took some time, but eventually you came to realize only Wednesday Addams could look at the raging storm of chaos and destruction and make a home out of it. Only she could listen to the cacophony of the roaring thunder and hear a melody.

Story warnings: Wednesday Addams, violence, slow burn

Story Masterlist / Next part

Word count: 3.7k

-I came in from the wilderness, a creature void of form-

Lightning is the force of destruction, capable only of offense, never of defense.

You trembled, curled up in the corner of the room. You didn't dare to open your eyes, worried about what you'd see if you did. As the storm continued raging you felt more and more agitated, covering your ears to muffle the thunder and the sound of rain hitting the rooftop and windows. Feeling the stone walls you were pressed against heating up you stumbled to your feet and went to the other corner, still refusing to open your eyes. Your foot hit the desk and you winced when you heard sizzling and smelt the faint scent of smoke. That forced you to open your eyes and, much to your frustration, find out that you did, indeed see even in the near darkness the room was engulfed in. If nothing else at least the deck didn't catch on fire, but the smoke was just another reminder of why you weren't in your bed and why you were put in the highest room at Nevermore.

You were a lightning beast, a raiju, and you were at your strongest during thunderstorms. You were, also, at your most destructive, unable to completely control your lightning during those very storms.

It took immense effort not to blast the entire room with your lightning, to stop the pain you were feeling as the electricity accumulated within your body, begging to be released. You couldn't allow that, though, because you were finally getting a roommate two years after you first came to Nevermore. If you couldn't properly handle bigger and longer thunderstorms there was no way Weems would allow that.

So, you groaned, your cry sounding a lot like the subdued, quiet thunder, and slowly but surely you weathered the storm.

~X~

By the time morning came you were barely able to keep your eyes open. The last lightning strike was half an hour ago and you could finally gradually discharge the electricity within you without causing any damage to your surroundings or attracting lightning from the clouds.

With a yawn you slumped into the bed, you felt the static on the soft blanket beneath you, but you honestly couldn't care less. You needed to rest, you needed to recover at least some energy, to let your aching body heal. Your roommate was supposed to arrive in a couple of hours, and you promised yourself you'd only take a brief nap.

You should have known better.

The doors opening and energetic footsteps echoing through the room made you jump out of bed, and, due to momentary disorientation look around. You saw Weems already looking at you with a mix of sympathy and disbelief in her eyes. How did she even manage to combine those two? Still, as you looked at the energetic blonde turning around and taking the fairly bare room in, you found yourself thanking whoever designed this room for a couple of seconds you had to compose yourself.

"Uh, hello," that was definitely not smooth, your voice cracked a bit, and you'd be genuinely worried about someone's perception skills if they missed the uncertainty in your voice.

"Hi!" the girl's demeanor was the exact opposite as she immediately not only approached you but skipped to where you were. Skipped! "Howdy, roomie! I'm Enid!" right away she completely disregarded safety protocols and hugged you.

You didn’t expect the hug, or any contact, that was the protocol every student knew, do not touch a raiju after a storm. So, you didn’t have the time to react, your eyes just widened as you stilled in her hold and looked at equally surprised Weems. So, she did mention you were a raiju, and the girl still went for a hug. You cleared your throat and lightly patted the girl on her back. "Y/N, uh Y/N L/N, nice to meet you," you said and visibly relaxed when you were released from the hug.

It wasn't that you minded hugs, or were against touch, but a rather heavy storm just passed, and you didn't want to risk accidentally electrocuting someone. Okay, maybe you weren’t exactly eager to be hugged by strangers, but it really was the danger of electrocuting someone by accident that made you worried.

"Enid, what are you doing? Don't touch a raiju!" an older woman Enid somewhat resembled rushed over and pulled her back. You could see the excitement and energy just evaporating from the girl as she gave into her, you assumed, mother's demand.

"I can assure you, Miss L/N is no danger to anyone, Miss Sinclair was perfectly safe," Weems assured, but, judging by the way the older woman glanced behind you, you figured she didn't quite buy it.

In the two years at Nevermore, you only had one incident, about half a year ago, when there was a storm even worse than the one last night. A storm during which you couldn't go half a minute without another lightning striking. So, just for a few seconds, you lost control and even after fixing the wall one could still notice the large claw-like dents in it.

Still, Weems wasn't about to say Nevermore had a raiju that could be a danger to other students. The school was the safe haven for all the outcasts, and it couldn't maintain that reputation if the dangerous beast couldn't be controlled. Which was another reason why you didn’t have a roommate up until now. Weems only now considered trusting you, and even now it was just barely.

The older woman raised her head in contempt. "That better be true, Principal Weems," she huffed and marched outside.

Enid looked to the side. "Sorry about that, mom can be a bit, old-fashioned," she apologized and then looked at you with a small smile on her face. "I don't think you're dangerous."

You couldn't help it, you had to laugh at that. "Sorry, sorry," you raised your hands when you noticed the baffled look on her face. Your laughter turned into chuckles and eventually subsided completely. "Thanks, but raiju are dangerous, so maybe don't go hugging every single one you come across?"

Her eyes widened slightly as the two of you went to the balcony. There wasn't much that could top getting fresh air after being stuck inside due to a storm. Inside was nice and cozy, but there was just something about not having a choice but to stay inside. "I wasn't supposed to hug you?" she asked, almost as if she never heard that before.

You raised an eyebrow. Surely someone warned her. "Unless you know you are both safe, no, you shouldn't. Didn't someone warn you? I mean, you were told I'm a raiju," you hopped backward so you could sit down on the stone fence so you could still look at Enid.

"Uh, yeah, they told me you are a raiju, but no one warned me about not hugging you," she said, though she didn't back away from you, she just leaned against the fence next to you.

In hindsight Weems probably expected the old woman to tell Enid about what she shouldn't do since she was so adamant about you being dangerous. "Right, quick list of rules. Don't touch me during storms, or a few hours after the storm, or if you or I come into contact with any liquid that conducts electricity. It's better to be safe than zapped, so if at any point you think I might accidentally zap you, follow your instincts, don't touch me. The same goes for any electronics you have, don't bring them to my side of the room under those conditions. If I can zap you, I can definitely short-circuit your things. I think that about covers it."

"So, you can't touch water?" Enid asked once she took the information in. "At all?"

"Unless it's distilled, nope, it really hurts to suppress the electricity and keep it from damaging something or hurting someone. I can't drink regular water either," you shrugged, used to the negative sides of being a raiju.

"What if it rains when you're outside?" her question brought forth all the memories of being caught in the rain and you flinched a bit.

"Well, it sucks to be me, that's for sure," and with your luck, well, it happened kinda often. You saw the excitement completely fading from her, and she looked like she was sorry for you. From her point of view the way you lived probably sounded really restrictive, and in some ways it was, but, it was your life. You couldn’t change it. "On the brighter side, when I'm completely in control you won't need to charge anything," you grinned when Enid perked up and offered you her phone.

She was lightly bouncing on her feet as you took her phone. "Show me!" okay, she was back to being excited.

You pressed a finger to where the battery was and you both watched as the screen lit up and showed the phone was charging. Within a minute you charged it from thirty to fifty-seven percent. "And I'm fast and safe as well," you grinned triumphantly. If only you knew what it would escalate to once more people found out you were basically a portable charger...

"OMG! That's amazing! I'd trade with you if I could!" Enid exclaimed and you tilted your head, blinking a few times.

"Trust me, not worth it," did she miss all the downsides you mentioned? From the looks of it she thought never needing a charger was a fair trade for drinking distilled water and fearing even the briefest rain. Most groups could function in a normie society and would just have to avoid specific dates or circumstances. Say, full moon for werewolves. Raiju were different. Thunderstorm? Trouble. Rain showers? Trouble. Water in general? Trouble. Too much electricity in the air? Trouble. A damn water balloon could set off a reaction if a raiju was inexperienced. Luckily you moved past that level of inexperience. Still, that inability to function in normie society was what caused you to start attending Nevermore ever since you were twelve.

"Right, sorry," Enid laughed uncomfortably at your questioning look and turned back to look inside the room. "I know I just got here, but what are we going to do about our room?"

That was a question you didn't quite consider when you first arrived. The highest dorm room of Ophelia Hall was divided into two sections, bathroom and wardrobes not included. Looking at it now, you figured it looked a bit like the letter P. The main part was the same as the other rooms, open space meant for two people to share the room. A bed, a desk, a wardrobe, and a pair of nightstands on each side of the room, aside from that it was up to the student to decorate or leave their side of the room as it was. Your part of the room was on the right side, divided by a large sliding door that was usually left open, but could serve as an additional barrier during storms. You never really had to close it before.

Your part of the room showed signs of being lived in, and not just with the damage to the wall. You had a slightly bigger ice maker in the corner, just in case you ever ran out of distilled water Nevermore provided you with. Your collection of knives was on display, also for practical purposes, and then there was your pride and joy, a small fulgurite you created with your lightning. Sure, it was on accident, but you made it and you kept it. Finally, you had a shelf with books and movies you liked near your bed. All in all, between those additions and some posters hanging on the wall you figured you felt cozy enough while still staying safe during a storm.

Oh, and the bathroom was connected to your part of the room, so, whoever designed that took one person being a raiju into consideration. Likely that same person failed to realize taking a shower near a raiju, during a storm, wasn't the safest option.

"Honestly? I'm fine with whatever, as long as it isn't a safety hazard," you shrugged, finally answering Enid's question.

You did not expect an explosion of color to completely engulf Enid’s part of the room, or the bare window to basically turn into a rainbow. But, well, you did say you were fine with whatever as long as it wasn’t a safety hazard.

~X~ Two years later ~X~

Go to your shed, you thought. Do some 'one-raiju-club' activities, you thought. Well, getting caught outside in the rain was exactly what you deserved after you so stupidly decided to believe the weather in this damn town wouldn't get worse!

Luckily the red sparks coming from your soaked body made the students stay away from you as you sprinted through the pentagon. It was a damn pentagon, and you were not going to call it a quad! At least you had better control over yourself now.

The sound of thunder boomed in your ears as you finally reached Ophelia Hall. At least the heat coming from your body would make sure you were mostly dry by the time you reach your and Enid's room. You'd be tired, but you'd be dry.

"How's it going Sparky?" Yoko laughed as she saw you climbing up the stairs. Even with the teasing she still made sure she was way out of your path.

Your eye twitched at that. "Just great, thanks for-" lightning struck near the building and you dropped to your knees, barely containing the lightning within you. You were better at this now. Unless it was a really long and bad storm you could handle it, you could even handle electronics if lightning wasn't too close. But you were wet now, and all that control seemed to be going out the window. Yoko smartly stayed away. She felt sorry for you, but she wasn't getting anywhere close when you could light up with enough electricity to power the entire Ophelia Hall or fry every device in it, at any moment. "-asking," you groaned, the sarcastic reply you intended fizzled out as you regained control once again.

“Make sure you rest!” Yoko called after you as you parted ways and you gave her a quick thumbs up.

Finally, finally, you reached your room and stumbled inside.

Enid got up from her chair right away and tossed you a towel. She didn't approach you, even if she definitely was worried. "How bad was it?" she asked as you went to your side of the room and sat on the floor.

You were mostly dry by now, but it wouldn't hurt to use the towel just to be safe. Also, for a reason you couldn't explain keeping a soft towel over your face as you weathered the storm became a bit comforting to you. Maybe it helped you ignore the world around you a bit. "Could have been worse. I was two-thirds of the way back when it started raining," it wasn't raining hard right from the start, so you figured you had at least a bit of luck. "Don't worry, I'm just a bit tired," you assured her and glanced at your wardrobe. You should change, but you wanted to cool down a bit more before you did anything.

The sound of footsteps told you Enid was coming closer. You didn't worry. She knew not to get within fifteen feet of you. You still peeked at her. "I know," she said as she leaned against the wall. "It still hurts to see you like that," she said gently.

If anyone in this school actually cared about how you were handling being a raiju it was Enid. Not Weems, not the teachers, not other students, only Enid. The rest were more concerned about being zapped. You took the towel off your face and offered her a wide grin. "Hey, I got this. It's not even the worst storm we went through in the past two years."

Enid nodded at that and grinned back. "That was actually terrifying,” and it was. About a year and a half ago there was a really big storm, heavy and close enough that you were screaming by the end of it, your cries sounding just like the loud thunder outside the building. “You think you can handle taking our new roommate on a tour?"

Your eyes widened, it completely slipped your mind! "Shit, you're on your own this time," even if you weren't outside when it started raining there was no way everything would be safe and dry by the time Wednesday Addams arrived.

Enid nodded. "Leave it to me, roomie! What do you think she'll be like?"

You thought it over, you heard the rumors, but the most telling sign was the furniture that arrived. Dark and vintage-looking. "I think you should get ready for a drastic change in scenery, at least on her side of the room," you really didn't think the decorations Enid placed were going to stick around in Wednesday's side of the room.

~X~

Barely fifteen minutes later Weems led three people into the room. The first thing you thought when you saw them was 'That's a lot of black,' the next thing you thought was specifically about Wednesday. 'She's kinda tiny,' and from the looks of it her boots gave her almost an inch, and she was still shorter than Enid.

The woman gasped audibly. "It's so... vivid," the man looked around, almost as if he was horrified by all the colors in the room. Well, it was actually a fairly usual reaction to Enid’s part of the room, gothic fashion and refusal of colors aside.

Enid got up with much more energy than you did and, much like she did when she met you, skipped over to Wednesday and her parents. "Howdy, roomie!" she greeted the girl enthusiastically. The girl didn’t back away, but you wouldn’t be surprised if the intensity of her stare set both Enid and you on fire.

"Hey," you just raised your hand as you went to stand next to Enid. The girl remained silent and still. She wasn't even blinking! You had to double-check to see if she was even breathing. Which she was, thankfully.

"Wednesday, these are Enid Sinclair and Y/N L/N," Weems introduced the two of you.

"Are you okay? You look a little pale," Enid asked, worried for the girl.

"Wednesday always looks half dead," Wednesday's father explained.

You grinned and pointed a thumb at Enid. "Enid always looks too alive, so it evens out then," well, there was a sentence that could be taken out of context.

"I can see that," Wednesday spoke for the first time while Enid processed what you just said.

"Y/N!" Enid pouted at you, though you could tell she didn’t actually mind what you said. She was a ball of energy and sunshine, and she was proud of that.

"Sorry, sorry, you just get excited easily," you raised your arms up, surrendering.

"Whatever," she shrugged, she had more important duties than dealing with your occasional antics. "Welcome to Ophelia Hall!" she went in to hug Wednesday, only for the girl to outright reject her by taking a quick step back. "Not a hugger. Got it," Enid backed away, respecting the boundaries Wednesday was setting.

"Please excuse Wednesday. She's allergic to color," Wednesday's mother spoke up and you raised an eyebrow puzzled by that. How did it even work? Was it just when she was in contact with them, or was it even looking at something too colorful? If it was the second then Weems really fucked up by making her room with Enid.

"Oh, wow, what happens to you?" Enid asked, unable to imagine what she would do if she had to deal with that.

"I break out into hives and then the flesh peels off my bones," dark humor and dry, even tone. Noted.

"Y/N is basically allergic to water," Enid pretty much returned the favor.

You thought it over for a moment. "Pretty much, yeah. I burn from the inside and light up like a Christmas tree, literally," well that was the most extreme possibility aside from shifting.

Weems faked a cough, not exactly appreciating your sense of humor. "Luckily, we've special ordered you a uniform. Enid, please take Wednesday to the registrar's office to pick it up along with the copy of her schedule and give her a tour along the way," Weems instructed and you honestly appreciated that she took notice of the rain that just recently stopped falling.

Still, you were left with three adults now as Wednesday followed Enid outside. So, you just nodded and moved to your part of the room.

~X~

About an hour later Enid was still fuming from her interaction with Wednesday, and honestly, you found it kinda hilarious. "I find social media to be a soul-sucking void of meaningless affirmation? That's what she said?" you repeated, watching from your bed as Enid paced around in your part of the room.

"That's right! Can you believe that?" she definitely sounded like Wednesday frustrated her, at least a bit. "She's like a pit of disdain, a black hole sucking anything positive out of whatever is near her! I don't know if we can do this, Y/N," forget the ‘a bit’ part, Wednesday absolutely frustrated her.

But you just began laughing. "Okay, I get it she didn't make the best first impression, but I think I'm going to like her! Soul-sucking void of meaningless affirmation? Damn, that's a good one!"

"Y/N!" Enid cried out. “She said she killed two kids at her old school!” she exclaimed, not understanding how you weren’t taking this more seriously.

"You survived rooming with me, a raiju, you can survive a goth girl with a questionable background," you just grinned. How bad could it possibly get? Surely one girl couldn't flip your lives upside-down.

Right?

A/N: And that, people, is chapter one. Light spoiler, if you are here purely for romance, I have to disappoint you, there will be hints, but as far as actual romance goes, that's for later seasons.

Story Masterlist / Next part

#wednesday addams x reader #wednesday addams x you #wednesday addams x female reader #wednesday addams #wednesday netflix #jenna ortega x reader #x female reader #x reader

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eww-y-tho · 5 months ago

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Colin VS Toxic Masculinity and Why Penelope Had to Reveal Herself as LW

I made a previous post with my two cents on why the idea of them both figuring out a solution to LW was an inferior concept to just Penelope figuring it out on her own, but it was small and I want to go more in-depth.

So, in order to grasp ✨my perspective✨ of the story, we first need to talk about Colin's struggles with toxic masculinity and his inferiority complex.

Naturally, Colin is a hopeless romantic with demisexual tendencies and a more prominent softness compared to other male leads. He's a bit dense (I say with love) until he figures out what he wants and how he's going to get it, and then he is a man of frankly ridiculous action. He's a sensitive boi who has a difficult time fitting in with the other men in his life and being taken seriously by his family, as he puts it himself. An empath, lol.

Honestly, Colin being a "rake" was an integral point of his character arc, and if you haven't picked up on that text by now, I would ask where your media literacy is. Violet put it best, he's putting on armour to protect himself from the way that society treats his character, and naturally, he develops a small, albeit persistent inferiority complex because of this. He doesn't feel like he's providing enough to the people around him because of toxic masculine standards.

I honestly think it's been with him since s1, and Pen is the only person who could bring these thoughts to the surface, which is why it comes to a head in s3 p2.

But I'm getting ahead of myself.

In his efforts to fit in, he does some questionable things, such as the 2x8 comment, which he regrets as soon as he realizes how much damage it has done to his relationship with Pen. He hangs around with douchebags that he can't stand because he feels a need to conform and "be the kind of man society expects him to be."

But he also absorbs toxic masculine tendencies in the process. His gut instinct of general envy that a woman, Pen, is more successful than him (I hate to put it that bluntly, but that's how I took it), asking for her to quit LW because of these reasons, completely disregarding Pen's autonomy and her perspective by blindly charging forward to stop Cressida's blackmail, among other smaller things.

It's kind of ✨subtle✨, but I know it's there.

Pair that with his inferiority complex and you have a man who is trying to put down Penelope to his level, if that makes sense. By this point, he's already conquered the idea that he needs to conform by the way he cuts off his toxic friend group, but he isn't completely free from the systemic perspective.

Therefore, the idea that Pen would need him in order to find a solution to her problem confirms that toxic masculine trait. Let's be real, Penelope didn't and doesn't need Colin in order to help with LW's problems. She's managed without him before and will continue to manage it by herself. This is not to say that Penelope doesn't have an issue with accepting help from others and feeling the need to handle her problems alone because of her old situation, but she takes the emotionally intelligent move by LITERALLY voicing what she needs from Colin and their relationship.

She needs his companionship, she needs his love, she needs a rock she can come to at the end of the day and be able to depend on. She does not need him to do anything for LW, as it is a part of her identity and an accomplishment that she is proud of and will not let go of. Colin cannot make the demand that she drop everything she's worked for for him.

And that's how relationships work in the real world. You have things you are willing to let go of, and some things you are not. Your partner has to accept those boundaries you have set or leave the relationship, and you shouldn't have to abandon those things in order to get the person of your dreams, because that would make it a toxic relationship from the start and will most likely end in you losing parts of yourself in your partner.

Anyway, all this is to say that Penelope had to get out of her situation by her own means and with full autonomy on what she wanted to do to finish off her character arc.

And Colin needed to realize that his envy is a baseless emotion that simply has no value compared to the woman he knows her as. A strong, independent woman who doesn't need him to do things for her. He also needed to humble himself and see the way that LW is not competing with him, but a part of her. They both demonstrate that what they need from the relationship is not transactional in nature, but rather a shared bond powered by love.

I understand the idea of wanting them to both find a way out of the blackmail as a team, but again, that's explicitly not what they need from each other, and why I think this perspective is again a misunderstanding of their character arcs.

I think I've articulated this the best way I can, but I do know I wanted to say some other things. I'm tired tho, so yeah, ending it here.

Hopefully, this made sense.

Bai!

#bridgerton #polin #polin bridgerton #bridgerton netflix #bridgerton s3 #penelope x colin #penelope bridgerton #colin x penelope #colin bridgerton #penelope featherington #lady whistledown

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snowblack-charcoalwhite · 4 months ago

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When answering asks I mentioned several times that while I agree that Aegon's character arc is the best one this season (among the Greens and overall), I still don't like it. No one really asked but I decided to put it out there anyway - because he is my second favourite character of the book/show combo.

When I think about Aegon in season 2, this bit from the trailer comes to mind:

If we are to take Aegon more or less as a separate character (which is not so easy as no character can/should exist in a vacuum), his storyline has been quite decent (the effort to be a good ruler despite the lack of actual preparation, the obvious love and care towards Jaehaerys and heart-wrenching reaction to his murder, the failed attempt to prove himself at Rook's Rest - and now the signs pointing to him becoming a new man after what happened, more cunning and harsh). Besides, Tom has been given quite a few really good moments where he could show, truly and without being restrained, just how talented he is (it was the least HotD owed him after the treatment he got because of the shitty writing for the previous season). And even with that, I am still far from being convinced that the writers won't fumble it all in season 3 (just look what they did to Aemond this season after him getting IMO the most compelling and consistent beginning of the character arc in season 1).

But if we look at Aegon in connection with other characters? I am not merely disappointed, I am fucking furious, actually.

He's the character who suffered the most this season (feels like suffering takes up 90% of his screentime) - and this is understandable given what he's been going through. But how does the show present us this suffering? More precisely, who is presented as being responsible for it?

The first big blow dealt to Aegon was the murder of Jaehaerys. And which characters are actually shown to be the cause of Aegon's anguish?

Not Rhaenyra - she was as clueless as poor murdered boy himself. Not Mysaria - her opressed self "just provided the names" to Daemon. Daemon is the closest to it, but even here we were treated to this "ambiguity" bullshit about him supposedly not giving clear instructions to Blood and Cheese - and apparently he deeply regrets his actions. Boo-hoo, poor baby (I am not even a Daemon hater, actually, but the "he is just a tormented soul" thing he has going on this season has gone too far). The audience can't even properly hate the murderers themselves because of the shallow and cartoonish way the whole event was handled on screen.

But we get to see how Otto turns the horrible murder of an innocent child into a propo show - and Alicent sides with him (both are shown to disregard Aegon's feelings on the matter). Criston is presented as the one who neglected his duties and in doing so facilitated the heir's murder (and later he tries to shift the blame to Arryk which eventually gets the latter killed while fighting his own twin brother). Aemond doesn't gaf about his nephew's death (or the way it affected anyone in his family, specifically Aegon) for which he is partially to blame. And later Aegon gets a parting gift from Otto in the form of "you are a useless piece of junk - and a naive one for even daring to believe otherwise" - and Alicent's inability to console him when he needs it most.

Things only get worse from here. The Blacks are doing their thing on Dragostone (in Daemon's case - at Harrenhal) while Aegon keeps being abused, neglected and terrorized by those closest to him. His council members (including his mother and brother) do not respect him, Alicent flat out tells him he is useless in the most hurtful way possible (comparing him to Viserys who, as Aegon learned, didn't deem him worthy either after all). Oh, and by the way Viserys' neglect towards his children - Aegon in particular, in this case - is now completely taken out of the equation. Instead Viserys is presented as almost a godlike figure, someone to be worshipped and as infallible as the Pope.

And then, as the cherry on top of the cake, Aegon and his beloved dragon get horribly injured, almost killed by Aemond who Aegon trusted despite everything (Rhaenys' part in Aegon being hurt is minimal). And even after that Aemond proceeds to torment his bedridden brother, physically and mentally (I am aware there are supposed layers to it but I really doubt a lot of viewers gave that scene a second thought), so the former could remain in power; Alicent experiences remorse in all the wrong moments (and then proceeds to tell Gwayne how she is disappointed in both of the sons she actually knows and seems to redirect her hopes towards the one she doesn't). The only person who actually seems to care about Aegon is, surprise, Larys Strong, a reigning Kinslayer Supreme who actually murdered his father and elder brother while playing the game of thrones (and there is a BIG question whether Larys would give a single fuck about Aegon and his condition if he had been granted promotion by Aemond). While it's nice that the indisposed king has at least someone on his side, it's really fucked up that out of everyone else around him it had to be precisely Larys, whose loyalty is very much conditional.

To sum it all up, the writers gave Aegon an extreme amount of suffering (in accordance with his story in F&B and even more), clearly aiming to make the audience pity him as much as possible - and in a dirty and lazy writing move weaponized this pity against other TG characters (it's not clear for now whether it worked to the degree they expected for GA - but for the fandom it certainly did). Meanwhile TB is whitewashed once again. Now it's understandable where all this "they all hate each other" promo jokes (that turned out not to be jokes after all) made by TB actors came from.

In conclusion, I despise the way Aegon's suffering is being used in the narrative, and it takes a really big chunk out of the positive feelings I have about Aegon's arc in general. The F&B Greens, while being flawed individuals and not the most well-functioning family, were loyal to and cared for each other. HotD destroyed the majority of inter-Green relationships, and I am really, REALLY not here for it.

#house of the dragon #hotd #hotd season 2 #anti hotd #aegon ii targaryen #team green

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nevermeyers · 6 months ago

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regarding the whole jjk& gege hatespread movement going on rn, i think this is the perfect illustration of what happened when """trendhoppers""" (i really do not like that term) get into a popular manga because of the characters (fangirls) or the powerscale (..reddit anime bros?😭). and like, to some extent, that's fine!! fangirls are and will always be a big part of fandoms and are a big part of what keeps the community alive. i think the problem lays on the fact that jjk got a wide audience who is used to very binary good guys/bad guys representation in anime with same schemes repeated all over and never questioned their grounding bases. and some really don't like to be confronted to new characters paths or visions (especially if they do not accord to their own).

also the fact that people tend to move to the next shiny thing when the hype is over usually leaves the fandom with people who are actually interested in the story, whereas jjk never left the big screens. so i feel like a lot of the people who take a lot of place in this discourse are only there because they want to argue about who bodies who and "x could wipe the floor with y" and "x is so me guys" etc. they completely disregard the story and it's building, which is (besides interesting (and it is always good to remind it)) the WORK of SOMEONE who puts his time and effort into it.

most people treat work as content (which is bad)(coughcapitalismcough) and get angry when it's not presented in the way they want it to be☹️

You are so right anon!

And do you know what's the worst thing I've ever seen? Someone who said that Satoru couldn't die because the consumer (us, the readers) is always right ☠️ That take is so fucking disgusting, I don't even know where to begin to express the disgust I feel. There are people in the fandom who don't understand anything, they are the typical self-centered people who believe it's okay to throw trash on the school floor because there are hired cleaners. They are disgusting, I don't regret saying it.

The good thing about these chapters is that it's being shown who in the fandom are good people and who are narcissistic and ethnocentric wrecks who believe they have the power to decide on the author of the work. I've spent the last few months mass blocking these guys, ugh, I can't stand them. Worst of all, they live in their own delulu world where a sad ending (or//insert any ending they don't like) is not allowed. They really think jjk should have an ending where Sukuna is defeated and that is, again, self-centered. They say that, otherwise, everything would have been for nothing. Hmm? Since when does letting evil win undo an entire story? They are unable to value jjk for its history. They are doing the same thing that the jujutsu world did with Satoru, they are dehumanizing everything and they are so self-centered they don't even realize it.

People are literally dehumanizing both the author and the characters themselves, forcing their own vision of the narrative at the expense of whatever. Also, I've noticed that many of these profiles just spew hate, literally. That's their whole personality. You see a review in your dash, you enter the profile and surprise! that person hates everything they consume, they don't have a single good word in absolutely any chapter, they hate the author and claim that “Gege doesn't know his own characters” (as if characters aren't allowed to change and evolve in their views, ideology, etc, lmao)

These people are the worst, they spread super negative vibes. They seem very immature to me, because, if you don't like something, why would you continue consuming it? That's straight toxic, and I don't think they have a proper mental health if they're like this with the rest of things happening in their lives. They like to hate and they live off it, that is the only answer.

On the other hand, they are forcing “Gege has a bad narrative” to cover up the fact they are incapable of leaving the fandom and seeing the characters as characters and not their puppets, they force their fanon vision on them and then cry when they discover that they aren't like they expected. Shoko is an example of this. She was always certainly cold, but the fandom always painted her as Satoru's super hyper bestie, as a victim of Satoru's “selfisness” after the kfc breakup (god forbid a teenager grieving) and forced on her that she's a very good person when in reality she is still a doctor who passed her exams by cheating and who showed no empathy in lots of situations, when seeing, for example, Yuuji's corpse.

People also complain that the final fight is taking too long, lol, fights in shonen are like that, that's the point of the genre, babe, jjk is literally sold and promoted as a fight shonen. I honestly think that those who say that are people with a tiktok span of attention. (they would complain if the fight lasted for ten chapters too) Also, what a coincidence gege's narrative dropped when they started waiting weekly for a chapter, huh? What a coincidence they started disliking jjk when they started waiting, also all characters now seemed to be bad written after they started waiting another coincidence! Fast consuming has RUINED people's perception of media.

The moral of this is: enjoy what you consume, be mature about your consuming choices and have a good relationship with the things you like. Stay away from the negativity! And, most importantly, don't treat the author as your slave.

By the way, ik people have a twitter mentality so i'll say this for those. I'm not saying people can't have their own opinions, don't force that narrative on me lol It's the way you express your views that categorizes wether you're a normal person or an asshole. For example, I would have loved Yūta to stay out of this and leave Sukuna to Yuuji, since it was his time to shine! I think Yuuji deserves to have the spotlight and end everything (or try to), carry the final fight and all that. But I won't complain about it, nor drop the manga, because I'm not an inmature self-centered fifteen year old :)

Thanks for coming to my ted talk

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