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choerrypuffs · 18 days ago

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AITA for setting my cheating ex's car on fire? (and then falling for his cousin)

pairing: firefighter!haechan x reader

genre: fluff

word count: 8.6k

synopsis: revenge is best served cold―or on fire. literally.

author’s note: luvpuffcore is finally back!! ilysm cat and moon and thank you for another amazing year of friendship <333 i truly am the #1 most successful fan of all time 🤩 also special shoutout to cat for letting me use some of her creepy dms and moon for sharing her league knowledge yall are god's strongest soldiers fr !! happy new year, my loves ✨🎆💞

warning(s): mentions/threats of violence, sexual jokes, y/n commits arson but in a girly pop way (pls don't try this at home), character assassination of mark

playlist: get him back! by olivia rodrigo ― is it new years yet? sabrina carpenter ― drinks or coffee by rosé ― risk by gracie abrams ― mastermind by taylor swift

additional: check out a nonsense christmas: reddit edition collab!

r/AmITheAsshole

u/justgirlythings-arson119 • 3d

AITA for setting my cheating ex’s car on fire? (and then falling for his cousin)

I (24F) caught my boyfriend cheating on me with a discord kitten he met on League of Legends two days before our anniversary. I proceeded to have the biggest crash out ever known to man, bought a gallon of gasoline, went to his house in the middle of the night, and lit his car on fire. I had completely forgotten his cousin was a firefighter in the area, and he showed up at the scene, which hindered my masterful plan a little bit. Luckily, my ex didn’t press any charges though because no way in hell he’s going to admit he has a discord kitten in a court of law. Anyways, the next day, my ex groveled and begged me to go to his family’s Christmas party with him so that he could save face in front of his mommy. Long story short―let’s just say it didn’t go well. His cousin ended up driving me home, and I think maybe I’ve fallen for him?

⥣ 9.8k ⥥ 1,439 Comments

mcballs-im-lovin-it0323 • 2d YTA for not crashing out even harder bc i woulda slept with his entire bloodline if he played in my face like that 🙂‍↕️

➥ Reply ⥣ 2.8k ⥥

picklepounder1010 • 1d would’ve had him calling me mama, papa, auntie, uncle, grandma, grandpa etc fr 😩 ➥ ⥣ 943 ⥥

god-of-donuts0423 • 1d YTA for dating a lol player

➥ Reply ⥣ 1.1k ⥥

goonknight1027 • 5h no way this post is about that twink lol streamer ➥ ⥣ 629 ⥥

part one | oh, i wanna key his car…or light it ablaze?

onyourmark 12/1/2024 3:03 PM heyyy u play lol too 😂

onyourmark 12/1/2024 3:05 PM im a yasuo main 😂

onyourmark 12/1/2024 3:10 PMwhat kinda asian are u

onyourmark 12/1/2024 3:10 PMwhatchu look like

onyourmark 12/1/2024 3:10 PMsorry was that too much 😂😂😂

Your best friend, Rosie, has to put your phone down and take a few deep breaths. “I think I’m going to throw up.”

“Keep going. You haven’t even seen the worst of it,” you respond through a mouthful of strawberry ice cream, completely deadpan.

onyourmark 12/7/2024 6:21 AM ahh 😂😂

onyourmark 12/7/2024 6:22 PM *kisses you*

onyourmark 12/12/2024 5:39 PM can i tell U something weird :3 😂

onyourmark 12/12/2024 5:40 PM[Audio Message]

onyourmark 12/12/2024 5:39 PMi wrote this rap about my feelings for y baby girl

onyourmark 12/12/2024 5:39 PMbecause uve been such a good gril for me

onyourmark 12/12/2024 5:57 PM holy fck holy dcking fck that body of urs is absurd

Rosie covers her mouth with her hand, closing her eyes in a grimace. “No way he copied Adam Levine unironically.”

“Keep going.”

onyourmark Yesterday at 1:20 AMwhen can i see u

onyourmark Yesterday at 1:20 AM ill be free after christmas

onyourmark Yesterday at 1:20 AM after annyign fam stuff 😂😂😂

Every message Rosie reads feels like another sucker punch in your gut and your ego, but you just dig your spoon into the tub of ice cream with even more force and let her keep going. Every time you blink, you feel dried up mascara flaking off your eyelashes and getting stuck in the dried tears and snot on your cheeks.

“‘Annoying fam stuff?’ Is he talking about your anniversary?” Rosie demands.

Yes, your anniversary with your now ex-boyfriend, Mark Lee, is on Christmas. You used to think it was romantic. What a goddamn idiot you were.

“At least he called me family,” you reply wryly, a hysterical laugh rattling in your chest like a wet cough.

Rosie shakes her head and hands your phone back to you. “I can’t read any more of this. I’m going to be sick. I thought Discord mods and Discord kittens were just memes. I can’t believe people like him actually exist.”

You just shrug.

“Where the hell is he now?” She crosses her arms.

“Probably at his parents’ house. They’re on a ski trip, and they won’t be back until tomorrow,” you sigh, getting a headache thinking about how you were going to explain this to Mark’s parents.

“Good. Change the locks on your door before he tries to come crawling back. He’s done mooching off you,” Rosie huffs.

“You were right,” you state matter-of-factly, “That he was just a jobless bum loser who’s a momma’s boy.”

She looks guilty, leaning over and giving you a hug. “I’m sorry, Y/N.”

You think about the time you first met Mark, when the two of you were just starry-eyed freshmen in college together. He was so awkward and shy that it took almost an entire semester for him to finally look you in the eye. He followed you around like a sad puppy and would get flustered at any prolonged amount of attention you gave him. After about three years of him being hopelessly in love with you and unable to work up the courage to ask you out, you finally decided to give him a chance in your final year of college. It was a white Christmas, and you remember his trembling hands holding your face, freezing cold fingertips brushing your cheeks, and how red his nose was when he leaned in to kiss you. He looked at you as if you were a goddess that was put on this Earth purely for him to worship.

Maybe that’s why you moved in together with him when the two of you graduated, even when he was unemployed and you supported him financially. Maybe that’s why you smiled and nodded when he told you he wanted to try being a Twitch streamer. Maybe that’s why you gifted him his first microphone for his setup, or baked him a cake when he finally got his first viewer (even though it was actually a secret account that you made in order to boost his confidence). Maybe that’s why you never complained when he started skipping out on dates (sometimes even your birthday) in favor of growing his audience, or when he bought you extravagant gifts like jewelry or designer clothes without any clue of your preference or size. Maybe that’s why you chose to ignore the churning feeling in the pit of your stomach when you noticed his eyes starting to drift towards anything but you.

Maybe you were always the one who worshipped him.

It’s almost comical how easily almost a decade of your life has gone down the drain―and all it took was a couple of laughing emojis. In the end, the one who loves more is always the one who loses the most.

You gave up your best years to Mark Lee, and yet you seemed to have run out of tears to cry for this man.

Instead, all you have left now is pure, unbridled rage boiling inside of you. It’s the kind of anger that needs to simmer first―the kind that manifests first as a calm indifference before it finally bubbles over into a complete meltdown. But you’ll be damned before you set fire to your mental health and personal belongings that you worked tooth and nail for over a man who ruined your life.

So, you’ve decided to set fire to something else.

“Rosie,” you say softly, your voice chillingly serene. “I’m going to set his car on fire.”

Rosie laughs. “Want me to be your getaway driver?”

“No, I wouldn’t want to implicate you,” you respond smoothly. “Besides, I want him to know that I’m the one who did it.”

She looks at you for a moment, trying to decide if you’re joking or not. “Are you sure you’re okay?”

“Yes. I don’t have the energy to care about him anymore,” you answer―only a half lie. “You should go now. I know you have a late shift tonight.”

Rosie gives you another tight squeeze. “Call me if you need anything, okay? I’m off this weekend, so we should go get drunk off our asses.”

After she leaves, you slowly get up and make your way to the bathroom. You wash your face in the sink, scrubbing on the gunk off, and apply a fresh layer of makeup. If you’re going to do this, you’re going to make sure you look hot as hell (pun intended). Once you’re done, you make your way to the nearest gas station and purchase a gallon of gasoline before promptly driving to Mark’s parent’s house.

By the time you get there, it’s already close to midnight, and not even the darkness can shroud Mark’s new Tesla Cybertruck. You remember when he bought it because you had to pay for half of his rent for the month because he was saving up for it―the smug grin on his face, as he announced it to his Twitch chat. You’re embarrassed at how happy you were for him, and you didn’t even have the heart to tell him how hideous you found it. The truck’s mirrored exterior reflects the moon in the starless night sky, and the full moon almost looks like a shiny, pretty bullseye calling out for you to destroy it.

Without hesitation, you get out of your car and immediately start dumping gasoline all over and around the car. The scent of gasoline normally makes you nauseous, but the scent of revenge smells even sweeter. Before you take out your lighter, you pick up a large piece of broken concrete from his driveway. With all of the strength you can muster, you hurl the concrete into the driver side window of the truck and watch your reflection shatter along with the glass.

The car alarm starts blaring, and you wait for the light in Mark’s room to blink on. You see his silhouette as he opens his blinds and peers out, just to lock eyes with you. He gawks at you like he’s just seen a ghost, and it doesn’t take long for him to make his way down to you. As he stumbles down the driveway, you take out your lighter and flick it on, letting it slowly slip from your fingertips. Your heart swells with a hysterical sense of glee as his eyes widen, the orange flames reflecting in his teary eyes. His Cybertruck is set ablaze with a Hollywood-esque level of perfection, and the fire gives your face a golden glow as if you were the starring actress.

“Y/N! Are you fucking crazy?” Mark hollers over the crackle of the flames, voice breaking.

“Oh, you bet I fucking am,” you laugh.

“I’m gonna sue you―you bitch! Have you thrown in jail!” he screams, fishing his phone out of his pocket and punching in 911 on the keypad. “I’m calling the cops right now!”

“Do it, you spineless piece of shit! I’m going to make sure everyone in this damn neighborhood and on the internet knows what a lying, cheating, soul-sucking little leech you are!” you yell back at him. “I’m going to ruin your fucking career first and then happily walk my ass down to the police station.”

That makes Mark stop in his tracks, his thumb hovering over the dial button. He can’t control the fear on his face. “No one is gonna believe you.”

“Aw, you sure no one will believe me when I show everyone the screenshots of your DMs with uwukittenbb69?” you taunt.

“I’ll say they’re fake!” he nearly screeches.

“Let’s fucking go then! My word against yours. We’ll see who they believe,” you challenge.

Mark falters and takes a small step forward. “W-Wait…”

Unfortunately for him, he’s interrupted by the squealing sirens of a firetruck pulling up to the street. You and Mark exchange glances, and you silently dare him to report you, before both of you turn towards the firefighters exiting the truck.

“Mark…and Y/N?”

Your eyes widen at the sound of the approaching firefighter’s voice. You watch in horror as the firefighter removes his helmet, and you get a clearer look at his face. Tufts of wavy caramel-colored hair sticking out, a youthful and angelic face that doesn’t suit his occupation, and heart-shaped lips turned downwards in concern―it’s Mark’s cousin, Donghyuck. You’ve met him a decent amount of times at family gatherings, and he sometimes drops by you and Mark’s apartment to deliver homemade food from his mom. Donghyuck has always been kind to you, and you didn’t want him to see you like this.

Donghyuck’s confusion is short-lived before his attention falls back to the fire and how close you are to it. He quickly grabs your arm and pulls you away from the burning truck.

“Be careful. Are you hurt?” he asks carefully, eyes scanning your face with precision. “And why aren’t you wearing a jacket? It’s freezing out here.”

You open your mouth to try and fumble out an answer, but you flinch at the sound of Donghyuck’s colleagues blasting Mark’s car with water from the firetruck’s power hose. All that’s left of the Cybertruck is a deformed and blackened pile of scrap metal with a plume of smoke rising from it. You can’t help the sense of satisfaction you feel.

“Don’t breathe in the smoke. It’s not good for you,” Donghyuck urges, gently sticking an arm in front of you and gesturing for you to step back even further. “Come with me. There’s blankets in the back of the truck.”

“I’m fine,” you finally manage to say, shaking your head. “I’m not cold.”

It’s true; the fire you set has been more than enough to make your insides feel all warm and fuzzy. He doesn’t look like he believes you but doesn’t try to push any further.

“Okay, so what the hell happened here? We got a call from the neighbors saying there was a blazing ball on fire in Mark’s driveway and that the two of you were in a screaming match.”

“Ask Mark,” is all you say.

Donghyuck raises an eyebrow.

“It was an accident.”

As if on cue, Mark suddenly materializes next to you and Donghyuck―a restless expression on his face. He probably thought you were telling Donghyuck what he did to you and rushed over.

“What?” Donghyuck’s eyes nearly pop out of his head. “You’re saying that was an accident?”

“Yeah. I was just…messing around. Don’t worry about it. It was an accident,” Mark says through gritted teeth, sounding completely defeated.

The corners of your mouth twitch when you chime in, “A senseless accident.”

Donghyuck is completely speechless as he glances between the two of you. However, you look past him and watch the fireworks exploding in the dark sky. Pulling out your phone, you see that it’s midnight, meaning it’s officially the 25th of December. Glancing over at Mark, you see him trembling in the cold with a sniffly red nose and bloodshot eyes. He’s staring straight at the ground, fists clenched.

You smile.

part two | part two | wanna push him in the fireplace and watch him burn!

When you finally get home that night, you draw yourself a steaming hot bubble bath and even use the fancy bath bomb that Rosie bought you. After you get dressed, you make a charcuterie board and pour yourself a glass of wine as well before falling asleep to a Hallmark movie playing on your television. It’s probably the best sleep you’ve gotten over the past month.

You wake up in the morning feeling refreshed, a certain five-foot-nine burden lifted from your shoulders, and text all of your friends and family your holiday greetings. Rosie invited you out to her family gathering because she didn’t want you to be alone on Christmas, but you declined. You decided to stay home and get some cleaning done. Of course, by cleaning, you mean boxing up all of Mark’s stuff and donating it to Goodwill. You initially wanted to burn everything, but you’ve committed enough arson already.

Just as you’re getting ready to make a hearty breakfast in preparation for the mass Mark exodus, you hear the door to your apartment being opened, and your blood runs cold when you realize you haven’t changed the lock. Then your cold blood begins to boil at the audacity that Mark still must have in his pathetic little body to even dream of stepping foot in your home.

Gripping your frying pan tightly, you march out of the kitchen to greet him. Mark at least has the sense to shrivel back when he sees you approach him. To your delight, he looks absolutely terrible. It’s obvious he didn’t get any sleep nor did he feel the need to change out of his pajamas.

“I know you’re mad,” he says quickly, holding his hands out as if ready to block a punch.

“If you actually knew that, you wouldn’t have stepped foot in my apartment,” you say nonchalantly. “You have ten seconds to give my key back to me and get the hell out before you have to call the cops again.”

“Chill, chill,” he mutters, “I’m just here for my stuff―”

“Don’t tell me to chill. I’ve always hated it when you tell me that. It makes you sound like a patronizing douchebag, which you are, of course,” you snap. “You’re insane if you think I’m going to let you just waltz in here and casually get your stuff. Most of which I paid for, by the way.”

“Y/N, come on,” he sighs. “at least let me get my PC setup.”

That makes you burst out laughing. “Holy shit. You really have the gall to ask me for your PC setup? Are you on actual crack? Get the fuck out!”

“Okay, okay, okay. I’m sorry, okay? Just one more thing―”

“Don’t make me swear to Jesus on his birthday―”

“My mom wants you to come to the Christmas party this afternoon,” he blurts out, squeezing his eyes shut. “I…haven’t told her yet. I wanted us to tell her, um, together, after the party.”

He doesn’t need to say it for you to understand what he’s implying. He wants to make it seem like the breakup was mutual to save his reputation and because he knows his mom will lose her mind. He’s pretended to be her perfect little boy his entire life, a momma’s boy to the very core, so he can’t ever let her know what a bottomfeeder he is.

“Is this some sort of social experiment to see how far you can push my limits before I finally snap? Again?” you ask incredulously.

“Please, Y/N. I’ll do anything. I won’t ask for my stuff anymore. I won’t tell anyone about the car thing. I promise you that you won’t ever see me again if you do me this favor,” Mark sputters.

You hate that you still hesitate, despite how much you’re disgusted by him. It makes you feel like you haven’t completely axed the part of you that was in love with him, and that sickens you. However, Mrs. Lee has always been like a second mother to you, and it doesn’t feel right to just cut her off without a proper goodbye just because her son is a cretin. You suppose this could be good closure for such an ill-fated relationship.

“You swear on your life that you’ll leave me alone forever after this?” you ask, crossing your arms.

Mark nods profusely.

“Fine. I’m only staying for an hour, and I don’t care if the party isn’t over yet. We’re going to tell her within that period or else,” you state.

“Thank you. Thank you so much, Y/N.” Mark opens his arms to hug you, and it takes every fiber in your being not to whack him across the head with your frying pan.

“Do not touch me,” you warn, “Now get out.”

To his credit, he promptly hightails it out of your apartment (perhaps he finally noticed the murderous glint in your eye). You almost immediately regret agreeing, but you tell yourself that today is the last day that you’ll ever have to deal with the likes of Mark Lee again. Putting a hold on cleaning, you get ready for the party instead, donning a cute holiday fit that you had prepared especially for today since it was supposed to be your anniversary. Now, it makes for a great revenge dress.

Mark had texted you to let you know to bring a gift since there would be a white elephant gift exchange, and half of you wants to call him and scream at him for not letting you know sooner and the other half is screaming at yourself for forgetting to block him. Not having enough time to go out and buy a gift, you decide to wrap up the scarf that you knitted for Mark. You stayed up all night after you got off work to make it for him, and it looks a bit wonky, but you thought he would appreciate it. You feel bad for whoever receives it, but there has to be a few duds in the mix or it’s not a true white elephant experience. Maybe they can use the scarf to wipe up their dog’s piss or something.

When you drive back to Mark’s parents’ house, it’s an ironic clash of atmospheres. The place is decked out with Christmas decorations, an amalgamation of rainbow lights, inflatable snowmen, and wreaths on every door and window. Yet, you can also see remnants of the dark burn marks in their driveway. Mark must have managed to call a tow to take his Cybertruck away just in the nick of time. You do wonder how he managed to explain the burn marks, though.

Taking in a deep breath, you hype yourself up in your car visor mirror before stepping out and walking to the front door. Before you can even knock, Mrs. Lee opens the door and envelops you in a bear hug. She smells like sugar cookies, and it occurs to you how much you’ll miss her.

“Oh, sweetie! I’m so glad you’re here,” she coos, cupping your face. She then ushers you into the living room, linking her arm through yours. “I was so worried because I thought the two of you got into a fight while we were on our trip.”

You just smile uncomfortably. “O-Oh.”

“A mother’s intuition is always right, you know,” she says, winking, “Plus, I knew something was off when Mark told us he’d be staying at our place for a couple nights. Poor boy was a mess, you know. He somehow managed to total his car in the driveway! Can you believe it? He really needs you around to whip him into shape!”

You hope she can’t see you holding in a laugh. As you’re walking, you scan the room for Mark, but he’s nowhere to be seen. It doesn’t surprise you one bit that you’re being treated as fodder so he can hide in his room.

“Anyways, say hi to everyone!” She leads you directly into a circle of Mark’s aunt and uncles. You give them all an awkward hello and try to slink away while they all converse, but one of Mark’s aunts turns towards you.

“So, how long have you and Mark been together, honey?” she asks.

“Um, about four years―”

“Oh, but they’ve known each other for much longer than that. Seven years! Mark had the biggest crush on her, you know,” Mrs. Lee interjects.

“My goodness, does that mean we’ll be hearing wedding bells soon?” Mark’s aunt teases. The rest of the circle oohs and ahhs, and you want to strangle yourself with a garland.

“I mean, what is he waiting for anyway? He’s making loads of money on the Internet now, isn’t he?” she continues.

“Exactly. I want grandchildren, you know,” Mrs. Lee huffs.

Unable to bite back your words anymore, you clear your throat loudly. “I have something I need to―”

“Oh, Y/N! I’ve been looking for you,” another voice chimes in.

All of you turn around, and a gasp nearly escapes you when you see Donghyuck standing in front of you. He’s in a white cable knit sweater, and his wavy hair looks so fluffy that you almost want to reach out and touch it. His cheeks are a bit flushed, probably because he’s in such thick clothing (or Mrs. Lee’s famous spiked eggnog). Without his uniform on, he looks much softer, dreamier.

“You…have?” you ask, bewildered.

“Yup! Come on, I gotta ask you something,” he answers cheerfully, gesturing for you to follow him.

You’re a bit wary of what he’s scheming, but you’d rather risk it than have to deal with any more marriage talk, so you gladly let him whisk you away from the crowd. Donghyuck leads you to a less crowded part of the room, swiping a piece of chocolate cake when he walks past the dessert table, and tucks himself into a corner that’s concealed by a giant Christmas tree.

“Here we go. I introduce to you my super covert corner that I stand in when I want to avoid nosy relatives,” he says in a sing-song voice before offering you the cake in his hand. “Would you like some German chocolate cake made by yours truly? It’s pretty damn average, if I do say so myself.”

You pause, only just now realizing that Donghyuck helped you out. You suppose you have nothing to lose, so you accept the cake. “Oh. Thank you. So, you didn’t have anything you wanted to ask me?”

“Well, actually, I do,” he hums, giving you a sheepish grin. “You set Mark’s car on fire last night, didn’t you?”

Part of you already expected this question coming, so you manage to keep your expression neutral. “Are you accusing me?”

“Why, I wouldn’t dare. Besides, I don’t need to. I know you did,” he says casually, shrugging.

Even though you should feel panicked, you don’t. In fact, Donghyuck almost seems to find it amusing.

“Do you have proof?”

“Mark told me,” he states sweetly.

You sigh loudly, immediately giving up the ruse. “I knew that damn lowlife would yap.”

“So, what did he do?”

“Of course, he told you what I did but didn’t tell you what he did,” you snort.

“What, he cheat or something?”

“Worse.”

You pull out your phone and show Donghyuck Mark’s Discord DMs and watch his expression morph into disgust as you indulge in the cake he gave you. The dessert is perfectly average as he said, but there’s something charming about it. In that way, the cake is quite similar to its maker.

“As a government employee and resident fighter of fires, nothing justifies arson,” he states after a brief moment to collect his thoughts, “but this comes pretty damn close.”

You give him a smug I-told-you-so look.

“But seriously, what you did was really dangerous, Y/N. You could have injured yourself badly. That jackass is not worth getting third-degree burns over. There are better ways to get revenge, you know,” he lectures.

“Like what?” You raise an eyebrow.

“I don’t know, like TP or egg his car or something. Slash his tires?”

“God, are you from a 90s movie or something? That’s lame as hell,” you snort, taking another bite of cake.

“Dig your key into the side of his pretty little souped up four-wheel drive? Carve your name into his leather seats? Take a Louisville slugger to both headlights? Slash a hole in all four tires?” He wriggles his eyebrows.

“Are you quoting Before He Cheats by Carrie Underwood?” you ask incredulously.

“Maybe next time he’ll think before he cheats…” Donghyuck sings, purposefully off-key.

You can’t fight that smile that spreads across your face, and it eventually turns into a full-on belly laugh when he continues to sing. It’s the first genuine laugh, the first moment of brief happiness and relief, that you’ve felt in a long time. You thought you had it when you set Mark’s car on fire, but something still coiled in the pit of your stomach like simmering, black smoke. In this tiny little corner that smells of pine needles and chocolate cake, you feel free like a clear sky after a long winter storm.

“For the record,” Donghyuck says, voice gently dipping, “you’ve always been too good for him, and everyone knows it―including him. He’ll regret what he did to you for the rest of his life. That’s your revenge.”

Your breath staccatos in your chest at his words. You tell yourself that he has always been a smooth talker, but he looks at you with such honesty and warmth that you want to believe him.

“Have you always been this sweet?” You meant for the words to come out in a teasing manner, but your voice is tinged with breathlessness.

Donghyuck grins, and his lips remind you of the heart-shaped lollipops that you see in the store during Valentine’s Day. “The sweetest.”

A part of you wonders what would happen if you craned your neck and kissed him right here and now. Not because you’re romantically interested in him, of course. Rather, it would be a spectacular way to get revenge on Mark. Most girls go for the brother or the best friend―maybe even the dad if one is particularly ambitious―but the cousin is an untapped (pun NOT intended) medium for revenge.

You wonder if Donghyuck tastes like cookies or wine-filled chocolates or spiked eggnog or even fruitcake. You really hate fruitcake, but you suppose you wouldn’t mind for the sake of revenge.

But you would never do that to him. He’s much too kind of a person to be involved in you and Mark’s mess. The fact that you’re able to confide in him and he actually takes your side is something that you truly appreciate. As much as you want to torment Mark, it’s best to just end it here.

“You can use me too, you know,” Donghyuck adds.

“Huh?” You blink.

“For your revenge,” he clarifies. “Use me. To make him jealous, to bully him, whatever you want.”

For a moment, you almost believe he somehow read your mind.

“Just wanted to let you know,” he says, shrugging, “since you probably think it would be too mean. Plus, I think you would need my help anyways.”

That makes you feel greatly offended. “What is that supposed to mean? You say that like I didn’t set a car on fire.”

“You’re too naive in your thinking. Revenge doesn’t always have to be loud and in your face like that. It’s a lot more fun when you break them down psychologically in more subtle ways,” he explains.

“So, you―as a government employee―can’t approve of me committing arson because I got cheated on, but you―as a government employee―can casually and openly discuss waging psychological warfare on another civilian. On said person who cheated on me, who also happens to be your cousin because you seemed to have forgotten that, ” you point out sardonically.

Donghyuck just smiles before slightly leaning in, eyes flickering down to your lips. You open your mouth to retort but your words instantly die in your throat, softly gasping when his hand brushes your chin as he reaches over and swipes a bit of chocolate frosting from your bottom lip with his thumb.

“Sure I can,” he answers smoothly, “because, unlike a certain someone, I won’t get caught.”

“I didn’t―”

“And by the way, Mark didn’t tell me you set his car on fire.”

You gawk at him as he walks past you with a content grin on his face. “Now come on, I hear my aunt calling for us.”

Maybe you need to take back your earlier statement of Donghyuck being too kind. He might actually have more screws loose than you.

You almost completely forget about Mark until he finally comes downstairs for the white elephant exchange. You’re in such a daze from your earlier interaction with Donghyuck that you barely recoil when Mark takes a seat beside you on the couch, especially since Donghyuck is sitting in the rocking chair directly across from you.

The gift exchange begins once everyone has drawn a number, and you honestly just dissociate for the first half of it. Keeping your gaze trained on the piece of paper that has 26 scribbled on it, you don’t look up until you feel Mark get up beside you and pick a gift from the pile. You’re praying to both Jesus and Santa that he doesn’t pick yours, but you suppose you've been deemed a sinner and also put on the Naughty List (maybe for setting your cheating ex’s care on fire?) because Mark somehow manages to find yours in the pile of presents.

When he opens it, you can tell by the way he quickly glances at you that he knows it’s yours. After all, he saw you practicing your knitting throughout the week. He happily wraps it around his neck and beams proudly. “I love it.”

The way he carefully looks back at you makes you want to smack him into the new year. You know he’s trying to get on your good side, and you make it clear with your scowl that it isn’t working.

You’re actually grateful that it’s your turn next so that you’re able to get up and walk away from him. Wanting to get this entire situation over with, you haphazardly grab one from the top of the pile. Your heart sinks when you take out the stuffing paper from the bag and realize that it’s Mark’s gift. You contemplate putting the paper back in and not opening it at all, but you cave under the pressure of all the expectant pairs of eyes on you.

In typical Mark fashion, his gift is a signed T-shirt of his own merch. It’s an obnoxious yellow color with his Twitch username and a giant screen printed image of his face plastered across it. He’s written his signature right over his forehead, so it makes him look like he has random chicken scratch on his face.

“Oh, it must be destiny!” Mrs. Lee exclaims, clapping her hands together.

You force a smile before returning to your seat, doing everything in your power to ignore Mark’s stupid giddy expression. Shoving the shirt back into the bag, you casually kick it away from you.

A couple more people take their turns, and you’re counting down the seconds to when this is finally over so you can go home. Eventually, it’s Donghyuck’s turn, and he saunters towards you and holds his hand out.

“Gimme.”

You blink at him.

“Your gift. I’m stealing it,” he explains, wiggling his fingers.

“You want…this?” you ask, completely baffled.

“Well, duh. It’s going to sell for a lot of money, you know.” He winks.

You can’t help but laugh when you realize he’s helping you out again. “This has to be unethical. Aren’t you a government employee?”

“Government employees need to make money too,” he replies, sighing.

“Well, if you really want it, I guess I have no choice,” you huff, faking exasperation before handing him the bag.

You’re smiling when he takes it and walks back to his chair, and you hear Mark grumble something under his breath. Turning to him, you raise an eyebrow, snippily asking, “What?”

“I said,” he repeats so loudly that it reverberates throughout the room, “when did the two of you get so friendly?”

A silence falls over everyone, and the two of you are now center stage.

“Are you really going to do this now?” you hiss.

“I noticed that the two of you were getting awfully cozy behind the Christmas tree earlier,” Mark retorts, shrugging.

Donghyuck gets up to intervene, but he doesn’t have time to even react before you grab a pillow from the couch and chuck it in Mark’s face.

“You’ve got some nerve. Was this your plan all along? To make me look like the bad guy in front of your family?” you demand, feeling your face grow hotter and hotter from rage. “You and uwukittenbb69 were getting awfully cozy too, don’t you think? I’d say snug as a bug in a goddamn rug even.”

Mark stands up in a flash, his eyes frantically glancing at his mom before pointing his finger at you. “Baby, I told you she was just a friend.”

You nearly choke on air when you hear him call you that. Making a beeline towards the pile of presents, you begin to toss them at Mark with each question you add. “You absolute lunatic. Do friends beg each other for pictures of their tits? Do friends write raps confessing their love for one another? Do friends blow off their anniversary with their girlfriend so that they can meet up for a quick booty call? And yes, I’m saying quick because you and I both know it’ll be a speedy endeavor.”

“What on Earth is going on?” Mrs. Lee cries out as Mark tries his best to swat away the presents being hurled at him.

“You’re a psycho bitch,” Mark yells. “It’s not like I actually slept with her. We were just messing around online. You got jealous over nothing. And you set my car on fire!”

“You wanna see psycho?” you snap, throwing the present in your hands down onto the floor and marching towards him with your bare fists before you suddenly stop and take in your surroundings. You see the horror and shock on everyone’s faces, the way they’re looking at you, and then perhaps most clear of all―Mark’s expression. He’s angry just like you, but there’s a glimmer of victory in his eyes. As if he’s bested you in some manner.

And he has. You’re the villain now.

Taking in a deep breath, you will yourself to walk over to Mark in a calm manner, looking him directly in the eye.

“You’re nothing except a liar and a cheater, Mark Lee. That will never change that no matter how much you try to spin it in front of your family. You built your success off my back, and I hope that haunts you for the rest of your life. May you receive everything that you’ve done to me tenfold. That’s all I want to say—” You pause. “Oh, and I’ve always thought your Cybertruck was fucking ugly.”

You reach over and snatch the scarf from his neck before turning and walking out of the door, feeling like you finally managed to cut off the ball and chain around your ankle. Just as you’re about to reach your car, you hear someone calling after you.

“I’ll drive you home,” Donghyuck says once he catches up to you.

“I’m not so distraught that I’ll become a hazard on the road,” you say wryly

“Well, when it comes to being around a car, you’ve certainly proved that you’re not exactly at your most dangerous when you’re behind the wheel,” he jokes.

“You may have a point,” you acknowledge, giving him a small smile.

“Let me drive you home, Y/N. I’m worried about you,” he insists again, much quieter this time.

“How are you going to get back then?” You raise an eyebrow.

“I’ll call an Uber or something.”

“That would be such a waste of money,” you snort.

“Not if it’s for you,” he says almost instantly. His normally brown eyes almost look auburn when under the golden glow of the sunset.

There’s such determination, such assurance, such warmth in his gaze that you let yourself be surrounded with, no longer having the energy to resist him, and it feels like falling onto a soft cloud after a long, winding journey. For once, you just want someone to take care of you, even if it’s just for a moment.

“Fine. Do as you please,” you relent, tossing him your car keys before walking around to the passenger side and climbing in.

Donghyuck looks relieved, beaming when he situates himself in the driver’s seat. You try not to be impressed with the way he easily backs out of the driveway with one hand on the steering wheel and the other on the headrest behind you, maneuvering the wheel with a deftness you’ve never seen before. Then again, he does drive a massive fire truck on the daily, so your Toyota probably isn’t much of a challenge for him.

He drives with his eyes staring straight down the road―almost too focused―because you know he’s trying not to look at you. Probably because you’re making it abundantly clear that you don’t want him to look at you, leaning your head against the window and away from him. It doesn’t mean that you don’t see his wandering eyes, almost as if it were second nature, drift back to you in the reflection of the window.

“Pathetic, right?” you finally say, feeling suffocated by the heavy silence.

“What’s pathetic?”

“Me.”

“Why would you be pathetic?” Donghyuck grips the steering wheel tightly, knuckles turning white as the leather creaks under the force of his hold.

“Mark was right. I talked a big game in front of him, but in the end, I was just the psycho ex-girlfriend. I told myself that I would never let him hold my emotions hostage anymore. That I would erase any care I had for him left in me. Because indifference means that I’m truly free. But I couldn’t do it. I really hate him, to my very core, and that means he still has power over me. I hate that most of all. I want him to feel the same pain I did, and I want to exact revenge on him, but at the same time, I want to move on with my life. I’m like a dog chasing my own tail; it’s pathetic.”

You wanted to sound more lighthearted about this, turn it into a joke, but Donghyuck seems to draw out a vulnerability within you that makes you want to tell him everything you’ve been trying to desperately ignore.

“Y/N, you’re dealing with the end of a long-term relationship. It’s only natural that you have confusing and conflicting feelings about everything. You’re not pathetic; you’re human. Mark stole your girlhood and your youth, and it’s going to take time for you to heal from that. It’s impossible to immediately get back on your feet after what he did to you. None of this is your fault, so don’t ever berate yourself,” Donghyuck’s voice trembles as he speaks. “I promise you that one day, you’re going to wake up and you’ll realize that you don’t remember what Mark's favorite food is. His favorite movie. His favorite color. Then you’ll realize that you can barely even remember what his face looks like when he’s sad, happy, angry. Eventually, you’ll forget about him entirely, and all the pain he caused you will just be seconds of your life that evaporates from your mind completely.”

When he speaks to you like there’s nothing he’s more sure of in this world, it makes you want to believe him. You want to be his promise.

“Thank you, Donghyuck,” you whisper, placing your hand on top of his for just a moment before pulling away. Your touch is feather light, but you hope he didn’t notice the way your fingertips lingered a second longer.

The two of you fall quiet again, but this time, the silence is much more comfortable now. You’re almost disappointed when he pulls into your apartment complex, unsure of how to say goodbye to him.

“Would you like some hot cocoa or something?” you blurt out when he parks. “I think I have some in my apartment.”

You don’t realize how suggestive your offer sounds until it’s too late. Donghyuck hesitates for a moment, and you can tell he’s debating on if he should tease you about it or not. To your surprise, he doesn’t.

“Nah, it’s okay. It’s getting dark soon, so I should head back.” He pulls out his phone and starts ordering an Uber.

“Want me to wait with you then?” You’re not sure why you keep insisting on staying with him, but this day has been so batshit insane that you almost feel like a passenger in your own body.

“Probably not a good idea,” he chuckles.

Now, you feel both confused and slightly offended again.

“And why is that? I know I’ve been a bit of a menace today, but still…” you trail off awkwardly.

Donghyuck pauses for a moment as he stares at you; his face is closer to yours than it’s ever been because you’re sitting right next to him. You can tell he’s thinking very carefully about his next words. It occurs to you that, for a guy as seemingly flippant as him, he is actually quite thoughtful.

“You know, I’ve been compared to Mark my entire life,” he begins, musing.

“Sooo…you didn’t want me to wait with you because you’re gearing up for a trauma dump?” You raise an eyebrow.

Donghyuck holds his hand up in front of you, shushing you. “Shh, let me have my big moment.”

“Sorry. Please proceed.”

“Ahem. As I was saying, I was but a poor, innocent wee boy living in the shadow of the golden child in our family. Mark was always the more athletic, the funnier, the more charming one. His grades were ass, but he always managed to get out of trouble because he was the favorite. When I got my job as a firefighter and he was unemployed, my family barely congratulated me or even acknowledged it at all because they were afraid they would upset Mark. You see, I’ve actually lived quite a tragic life,” Donghyuck sniffles, wiping away a fake tear.

“What a shame that they can’t see how wonderful you are,” you chime in, a smile in your voice.

Your honesty in response to his joke visibly catches him off guard, and he blinks a couple of times before your words finally register.

“Right?” he huffs dramatically, but he can’t seem to meet your eyes completely as a light flush dustes his face and ears. “But fret not, I didn’t particularly mind. It was nice not having to live up to any expectations. Besides, I was happy for Mark when he finally got successful as a streamer. We were raised like brothers, and I always admired him. I was proud of him.”

“Ha, little did you know—”

“All this to say that, growing up, I’ve never been once jealous of Mark,” Donghyuck states proudly.

Then he slowly looks over at you with longing eyes, almost as if his body turning itself towards you is a natural reflex. His expression is so soft and affectionate that it nearly takes your breath away.

“That is, until he met you.”

So, this is what Donghyuck looks like when he’s in love. You wonder if it would ever be possible for you to wake up one day and not remember it.

But you aren’t sure if you return his feelings in the same way. Just like you couldn’t bring yourself to use him for your revenge, you can’t bring yourself to ask him to wait for you while you figure out the mess of your current emotional state. The one who loves more always loses, and you don’t want to lose Donghyuck.

“I just wanted to tell you that,” he continues, “I’m not expecting a response. It’s for the better you don’t respond right now anyways. If you want to pretend like this conversation was all a bad dream conjured up by sleep paralysis and never want to talk about it again, I’m okay with that too.”

You smile.

“But…if you’re able to, just look my way sometimes. I’ll do everything in my power to keep your attention, even if I have to get on a unicycle with a clown nose and juggle. And, if one day, you find yourself looking for me on your own, let me know. Then, I’ll ask for an answer,” Donghyuck promises.

True to your word, you don’t give him an answer. Instead, you take the scarf that’s been laying across your lap—the scarf with a few holes thanks to missing yarn and sections where you accidentally knitted the pattern in the wrong direction. Now it’s a bit stretched out due to you snatching it off Mark.

But this scarf, as average (maybe even less) as it may be, is charming in its own way.

Leaning forward, you wrap the scarf around Donghyuck’s neck. He watches you in complete awe, in a trance, as if he were in a dream and any movement would wake him up.

“I should head inside now,” you say quietly, trying not to giggle at his stupefied expression.

He only nods dazedly, and you’re certain that would have been his reaction regardless of what you said. It takes a few more beats for your words to actually click before he clears his throat loudly. “Right. Yes. You should.”

He hands you your keys back before stepping out of the car and opening your door for you. “I’ll wait down here until you get inside, and then I’ll go meet my Uber.”

“Thanks for driving me,” you say, realizing you never thanked him.

“You’re welcome. Good night, Y/N.” Donghyuck puts his hands in his pockets and tucks his chin into the scarf as he watches you go.

As your hand hovers over the doorknob, you know you should just open the door and walk inside so you don’t keep him waiting in the cold. You really shouldn’t look back because it would mean that you wanted to. Not because he asked you to.

But you do. You look back—

only to meet his eyes, the two of you exchanging knowing smiles.

extra | is it me? am i the drama? i don’t think i’m the drama…

r/AmITheAsshole

u/justgirlythings-arson119 • 9h

(UPDATE) AITA for setting my cheating ex’s car on fire? (and then falling for his cousin)

So, it turns out my cheating ex got catfished. His supposed Discord kitten was actually some random guy and his friend who were dicking around. They ended up leaking the DMs so they’re all public now for those who would like to read them (by now, I’m sure you all know who my cheating ex is). I would highly advise against listening to the rap confession though. Godspeed if you choose to. I am also selling his expensive PC setup on Facebook Marketplace if anyone’s interested. Happy New Year!

P.S. I ended up inviting the cousin over for hot cocoa. He’s very sweet.

⥣ 11.3k ⥥ 2,293 Comments

pissrevolver1122 • 8h rip bozo got catfished by me n bro for some robux

➥ Reply ⥣ 3.8k ⥥

pooprevolver0205 • 8h can’t believe bro actually jacked off to a pic of knees LMAO ➥ ⥣ 1.9k ⥥

piss-k1nk0219 • 2h yall are about to have the awkwardest family get togethers ever lmao

➥ Reply ⥣ 910 ⥥

bigsnowballs0813 • 4h $5 and an iced coffee for the pc take it or leave it

➥ Reply ⥣ 748 ⥥

femboyluvr0701 • 1h are u gonna set the cousin's car on fire too

➥ Reply ⥣ 639 ⥥

justgirlythings-arson119 • 1h probably not he’s very good at putting out fires :( ➥ ⥣ 482 ⥥

#nct imagines #nct scenarios #haechan fluff #nct dream imagines #nct dream fluff #haechan #nct #choerrypuffs #luvpuffcore collab #nct 127 fluff #nct 127 imagines

937 notes · View notes

rogueddie · 2 years ago

Text

996 hours, 39 minutes and 12 seconds.

Gareth has had enough. It's been long enough. He's sick and tired of waiting- he's taking matters into his own hands. He can't wait any longer. It'll kill him.

"Oh, hey," Steve looks surprised when he opens the door. "Gareth. Uh, what are you-?"

"Are you home alone?"

"What? Yeah, but-"

He grabs Steve by the shoulders, turning him around and directing him into his house, kicking the door shut behind him. He walks them all the way to the kitchen and nudges Steve into one of the seats.

Gareth sits across from him, narrowing his eyes. "Are you a homophobe?"

"What? No!" Steve looks deeply offended at the question, before a more curious, understanding look takes over. "Wait, are you-?"

"No, I just need to make sure you're safe. You don't have a problem with any of that?"

"No, I don't. I'm not an asshole- not anymore, anyway."

Gareth glances at the clock.

996 hours, 42 minutes, 08 seconds.

"Alright... do you like Eddie?"

"What?"

"Eddie Munson. Do. You. Like. Him."

"That- I don't- what- what does that have to- to do with, like, anything?" Steve flushes, shifting uncomfortably.

That's a yes, Gareth thinks, nodding to himself.

"I'm going to send him over here in, like... two, maybe three, hours. He likes horror movies, salted popcorn and diet coke."

"I don't know what you mean."

Gareth sighs, rubbing his head as he glances at the clock again.

996 hours, 42 minutes, 58 seconds.

"I can't deal with his stupid pining anymore," he grabs Steves hands, giving him his best pleading look, hoping his desperation shows. "Just... try one date. Please, for the love of God, I won't survive another day listening to him ranting about your hair."

"What? Wait... does- does he... like me?"

Steves voice is so quiet, timid, it nearly makes Gareth falter. It sounds so much like his little sister, when she lets the cruel shit other kids say get to her.

"Don't let him know I told you, but... yeah. Yeah, Steve, he really likes you."

"Oh."

Gareth can't help but laugh at how starstruck he looks, eyes so wide and awed.

"Wait, what- what does he say about me? You said... my hair?"

"Alright, I'm taking that as a yes," Gareth quickly gets up, waving off Steves excited questions. "Two to three hours, Harrington!"

1,002 hours, 34 minutes, 58 seconds.

Eddie shoves Gareth out the way as soon as he opens the door, immediately starting to pace in his living room.

"You alright?"

"No!" Eddie screeches, eyes almost as wild as his hair. "Steve kissed me!"

"What? Dude, that's great!"

"I know! I just- fuck, I have to thank you for giving him the heads up that I was on the way with his VHS," Eddie grabs both of his hands. "He set up a pillow fort so we could watch Nightmare on Elm Street together. Gar, the movie scared him but he put it on because I like it and... fuck."

"So, it went well?"

"It was amazing."

They sit together, Eddie walking him through every little detail of their date. It just further proves that Steve more than earnt his romantic reputation.

It's also a relief to finally hear Eddie talking with so much joy, and love. Even just talking about Steve, he has a look like he thinks he hung the moon. His own personal sun.

"Hey," Gareth interrupts. "Congrats, man. You deserve this."

#stranger things #steve harrington #eddie munson #steddie #gareth my beloved #steddie fic #ficlet #alittlelaughtime

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prncessjaeger · 1 year ago

Text

jennifer’s body ˚ ༘♡ ⋆｡˚

ღsypnosis:' pranking' your bestie gone wrong (right!)

ღan: heavily inspired by one of the best thrillers ever, happy halloween!!

ღcw: mentions of death and blood, semi-descriptive smut or sum idk (first time btw so don't laugh), finger-fucking, oral (fem to fem obvi), manipulative tactics used, semi coercion, cussing, everyone’s 18+, and uhh i think that's all.

the moon was full tonight, and the blood you thought you rinsed off with a hose was still coated on your hands. you took a good look at them and licked your fingers dry, then looked up seeing mikasa’s light being the only one off. huffing, you saw the ladder next laying on the back of the house, and groaned, knowing you had a full fear of heights, but huffed and moved it closer towards her window. “fuck i hope your window’s unlocked miks.”

when you reached to the top, you juggled with her window and ‘ahh’ed when it opened for you, “bingo.” you saw mikasa’s figure sleeping soundly and sighed, taking off your jackets and pants while also checking yourself out in the mirror. you snuck in the her bed quietly and laid for roughly 10 minutes waiting until she turned around and once she did, you saw her eyes peek slightly open looking directly in yours.

“hi.”

“AHHH WHAT THE HELL?!!” a blood-curdling scream roared from her lips. she ran to turn on her lights, wondering who was in her bed this late at night, “enough with the screaming mikasa, damn you’re such a cliche-”

“GET THE HELL OUT!” you saw her holding her chest with one hand and pointing towards the door with the other, the fear evidently shown on her face “but we always share your bed when we have slumber parties?” you could still see the anger on her face, "but i didn’t invite you over…?"

"oh my god, when's the last time you've physically invited me over? since we were what, 12? we're past that stage now..." mikasa huffed loudly to show that she's irritated but you noticed she let her guard down, so you slid over the bed towards her and hesitantly slid her glasses off, “calm down…I won’t bite...”

“tell that to jean-”

“watch it. he was hitting on you, you know i don’t like that.. besides, he was a little salty so you're not missing out...” she saw your eyes turn from flirty to irritation in 2 seconds but brushed it aside knowing you'd be back to normal in no time. she stared down at the shirt you wore, something that was definitely not owned in your closet, as she felt you run her hands through your hair,

“where’d you get that shirt?” you looked down at the shirt, smirking, “it makes my boobs look great, don’t they mika?” mikasa rolled her eyes at your redirection the conversation to something else and gave you a long hard look, a total comparison to the soft, lustful look in your eyes, “c’mere,” you grabbed her cheeks and pulled her into a small kiss, the feeling of her soft lips caressing her made her feel something she couldn’t put in words.

she hesitated at first, but because you were so persistent, she leaned back in and kissed you back, hard. her soft breaths exhaled slowly, feeling your tongue wrestle against hers. abruptly, you backed away and laid down flatly on her bed, silently inviting her with a distinct look in your eyes.

“y/n, this is…so wrong-”

“of course it’s not wrong, best friends kiss all the time! i mean, we’re still best friends, right?” you sat up to meet her eye as she sat on the bed, nodding at you slowly. “but i’ve never kissed anyone.”

“you mean to tell me you 'n eren never kissed? as long as you've both dated? or anyone??" she shyly shook her head no, “well now you have! so let’s get to learning, shall we?” mikasa still had a fearful look on her face and sighed, knowing you’d probably had better kissers before her, “what’s the long face? you’ll be fine, mika, trust me.” your eyes captivated her and saw them roll obnoxiously when you weren’t budging, “you know what, i’m gonna find someone else to kiss if you don’t-”

mikasa instantly feels a burst of confidence and shuts you up, kissing you more passionately. pushing you back on that bed and crawling on top of you, neither one of you broke the kiss not once. heavy moans and breaths came from you both and you moved your hands to push her down on your crotch area, feeling and kneading through her ass through her black thin night shorts. she tilted her head then moved her hands to your tits, massaging them softly which erupted a long whiny moan coming from your throat. “fuck you’re so hot,”

“am i?” your hand went down to cup her cunt, moving your fingers against her clothed clit slowly which made her hips stuttering against you, “fuck, d-don’t stop, please,”

“wasn’t planning on it,” you hastily pulled her pants off, deciding to keep her cute pink and white panties on instead since it complimented her skin…

…oh! and they were pink too.

you continued to rub her clit through her panties, feeling a wet patch starting to form and mikasa’s moans were perfect, something you’d want to hear forever. they were loud, but not too loud to travel from the room and wake up her grumpy ass mom, and they were sooo high pitched, contrasting from her deep voice. “‘ts feels sooo good, y/n, shit.”

“mhmmm…” you pulled her panties down with your teeth while keeping eye contact with her, and when your cold middle finger slowly slid in her cunt, she fell over continously moaning aloud, “aww fuck!”

flipping over so you're the one on top and her beneath you, you saw the tears threatening to spill from her eyes, thrusting your fingers inside of her and kissing along her neck, feeling the need for blood, but shook that thought out, wanting to keep giving your best friend the pleasure she definitely wasn't receiving from eren,

“tell me how it feels baby,” hearing your raspy voice, she felt like she wanted to cum right then and there.

you noticed mikasa leg shaking, the crescent shaped marks embedded in your arm from her sharp nails which piqued an interest in something, “you wanna cum?”

“yesss i wanna cum, please let me-!”

“if you don’t tell me how you feel, i can’t let you cum baby,” you could hear the irritation in her sigh, and you moved from her neck to her face, “b-but i alre-ready told you how i felt--OH FUCK!”

you pushed another finger inside of her, feeling her cunt squeeze your fingers which restricted your movements for a hot second, “relax, baby relax,” seeing-well more like feeling that she wasn’t letting up, you moved down to her glistening pussy, and licked a stripe up to her clit, feeling mikasa tremble under you.

continously thrusting your fingers, you began to eat her out simultaneously and mikasa felt like she was seeing stars. the feeling from your two fingers and your tongue was too much for her, and when you sucked her clit, she couln’t even warn you when she came, her wetness dripping all over your face and down her thighs…but you didn’t stop sucking and slurping, removing your fingers and stuck them insider of her mouth once mikasa sat up, overstimulation hitting her hard. “w-wait wait wait-.”

“why would i wait, mikasa? huh?” you looked up at her, seeing her drool all over your fingers, going down your arm. with a small bit of strength, she pushed your head back away from her, closing her legs which were still shaking from how hard she came. “woah…you’re so wet right now fuck.”you rubbed against her thighs wanting to pry them open and slurp her sopping pussy up all over again. “oh shut up,” you quirked one brow up, and smirked, waiting for her to put her guard down, and as soon as you saw her exhale slowly, you slid open her legs and attached your mouth to her lower lips once again, "hold on y/n, wait-" even though she was steadily telling you to stop, her hands continuously pushed your head further into her pussy. "right there, baby right thereee," she grabbed your hair and moved your face basically up and down against her cunt, her legs continuously spasming.

your hands went inside of your panties, flicking your fingers inside of your own gushing core and rubbing your thumb against your clit, as you licked and sucked onto her clit once again, "you're such a bitch for this, y/n,"

you stopped your motions, not liking her choice of wording and in comes a brilliant idea in your brain, an idea that could instantly make her lose this sudden attitude she had and use her mouth for something better.

you immediately pulled your panties down, pushing her laid back once again and sat right on top of her mouth, facing your back towards her, “let’s put this mouth to good use, hm? or are you too scared to do something,” mikasa couldn’t lie, you were acting real cocky and knew that she needed to do something to shut you up.

so, she grabbed your hips to plant your warm pussy fully agasint her mouth and she began copying the motions you did to her previously, feeling you scrunching up the ends her tank top, “ooh, for once, you really know what you-you’re doing, you’re taking me so well princess…” mikasa didn’t let your hips go, instead even tried to ground them further, and you were lowkey scared the fat of your ass was gonna suffocate her.

you moved your hips against her mouth and nose, feeling her tongue go flat, and since you were faced back towards her, she reached up with one hand and pushed you down to her cunt, and you knew what she wanted so you began licking and sucking her pussy again, feeling her moan against you. “mika this- fuck- that feels sooo good, keep going keep-” your hips kept grinding against her mouth, softly moaning against her sex.

funny enough, you got the sense that she was trying to overpower you, and you could not let that happen so you shakily hopped off her face and spread her legs wide open, fully connect your pussy on to hers, the feeling of your grinding ontop of her clit made mikasa see stars. “ohh my…goddddd,” you held her leg in the air, feeling the wetness slosh together, “i’m-’m gonna cum again, you’re so good-

“the best?”

“the best everrr…” you moved just a tad bit faster, her moans that were so pitchy, soft, and so loud, you had to cover her mouth, “you don’t want your mommy dearest coming in, do you?”

her head shook no, a tear rolled down her cheek and she felt like she was about to cum even hard than before, and suddenly she fell out, relaxing with a blissful look on her face, unlike you who was still chasing your well needed high after today’s…events and finally came down right on her cunt, letting out a loud gasp turned into whine…

⋆ ˚｡⋆୨୧˚

now you both were laid out in only just a shirt, cuddle up together when mikasa suddenly woke up and jumped from you, “what the FUCK is happening with me?!”

“wow mika, i never knew you could say the f-bomb so much now,” you giggled at her, watching her pull her panties up fastly, “i-i- saw you, did w-we-we just-!”

“w-w-we fucked? yeah it’s too late for you to be all shocked now, especially when you did your tongue like-“

“oh my god SHUT UP- MMMFHG!!” your hand clasped against her mouth, “god calm down…” she removed her hands from her ears and stared real hard at the shirt you were wearing, furrowing her brows, “isn’t that..eren’s shirt?” “

”hm? this old thing?? it might be, why?” she ignored your giggles and hurriedly called eren’s cell, hearing it ring and ring and ring, “come on eren pick up baby please-”

“baby?” you jerked your head and muttered, seeing her call another number, “hi ms.carla, have you seen eren tonight?”

“uh, no he says he was meeting a girl from his class for a project…y/n i believe, you know her right?” the phone slid from mikasa’s hand and she saw your eyes widen just a bit, then saw your infamous smirk grace your features when she knoes you’ve done something- well more like feasted on someone, “s-sorry ms. carla i-i have to go..” she hung up the phone and finally noticed the small splotch of blood splattered on the side of your jaw, something she swore she didn’t see the entire night. you giggled at her fear-distruaght face, licking the remnants of her off your fingers,

“oops.’

ღan: omg i’ve been gone for a bit but school has its priorities- but that don’t even matter rn🎀

#mikasa x reader #mikasa x black reader #kinktober #mikasa smut #aot smut #smut #wlw ns/fw #wlw smut #mikasa ackerman #attack on titan #aot x black reader #aot fanfiction #aot x y/n #jennifer's body

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allthingswhumpyandangsty · 1 year ago

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🎃⁀➷ 31 days, 31 spooky prompts for Whumptober *ੈ✩‧₊˚🕷️🍂

1. ❝ don’t look, try not to show any fear as I tell you this, but I think that pumpkin behind you is alive, and it’s looking at us. ❞

2. ❝ please, I’m not crazy. that scarecrow is alive and it’s trying to kill me. you have to believe me. no one in this town is safe! ❞

3. ❝ you remember that body that was admitted to the morgue last night? the one that has human bite marks that looks nasty infected on the arm. yeah, well, this is going to sound insane, but it’s gone. the body’s missing. ❞

4. ❝ babe, you’re dead. this is the afterlife. we’re all ghosts here. ❞

5. ❝ do not come out of your room when it’s nighttime. no matter what you hear, you must stay in your room throughout the night. ❞

6. ❝ the bats, they’re biting and killing people. we have to run. now! ❞

7. ❝ is that a person sitting on the tree branch? why is she smiling like that? what’s wrong with her eyes? oh my god, she’s crawling down. oh my god, she’s crawling towards us! ❞

8. ❝ you haven’t heard of the blood moon curse? you must be new here. ❞

9. ❝ if you hear a voice calling your name from the woods at night, do not answer. ever. ❞

10. ❝ I got bitten, and I need you to kill me before I turn and become like them. please promise me you’ll kill me before I hurt anybody. please don’t let me be like them. ❞

11. ❝ no, don’t make eye contact with it. keep on walking, but do not run. ❞

12. ❝ there will be a ritual tonight and they will use you as a human sacrifice. you have to get out of here. ❞

13. ❝ shhh, she can’t see us, but she can hear us. be quiet. ❞

14. ❝ what do you mean the doll is alive? it’s just a doll. ❞

15. ❝ one of us is possessed. there’s one way to find out who. ❞

16. ❝ we’ve been walking in circle. we’ve walked past this house before. you see that lady in the window staring at us? she was also there the last time we walked past her property, staring at us through the window exactly like this. it’s like she hasn’t moved at all. ❞

17. ❝ you need my blood to stay alive. drink it. drink. or you die. ❞

18. ❝ I think there’s someone living in the walls. I can hear them breathing at night. ❞

19. ❝ this is a mistake. we should never have come here. the myth is real. we’ll never get out alive now. I’m sorry. gosh, I’m so sorry. ❞

20. ❝ if you see the shadow, you only have 3 days left to live. ❞

21. ❝ are those claw marks on the trees? they weren’t here last night when we set up the tent. ❞

22. ❝ I don’t think the blood on his clothes is fake, neither are the human organs in those jars. we have to get out of here. ❞

23. ❝ I’ve seen it all. the devil is real. it’s too late now. all of us are going to die tonight. ❞

24. ❝ they are not a cult. they’re my family. I’m not being brainwashed. let me go. let me go! ❞

25. ❝ what did you just inject me with? what’s in the syringe? what’s in the fcking syringe?!! ❞

26. ❝ those blood, it’s still fresh, meaning whoever — or whatever — killed it is still around. we have to keep moving, and we have to keep quiet. ❞

27. ❝ she doesn’t like her dolls to speak at night. if she hears your voice after 8 o’clock, she will rip your vocal cord out. ❞

28. ❝ there’s something in the mist. if you breathe, you die. ❞

29. ❝ look at me, hey, look at me, these people, they look like your friends and they sound like your friends. but they’re not your friends. your friends are dead. we cannot trust anybody. ❞

30. ❝ don’t get too close to the water. the fairies have very sharp teeth and strong grips. ❞

31. ❝ be careful in the full moon night. just… be very careful, alright? ❞

TAP HERE FOR; 31 DAYS, 31 TROPES FOR WHUMPTOBER

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reality-detective · 1 month ago

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I've been asked to share my opinion on the recent Economist magazine cover that depicts a very interesting symbolic collage type of image. In no particular priority order, here are my impressions:

1. Saturn, which has profound occult meaning, sits atop the world order, above all world leaders and changing international dynamics. They are saying that regardless of changing conditions in the world ultimate authority will remain with Saturn and the cult of Saturn.

2. The image is dyed with black and red which is especially significant in 2025 because black is the traditional color of Saturn and red is the classical color of Aries where Saturn is heading in 2025. In other words, the dominant colors of the image reflect Saturn's astrological entry into Aries next year which the "elites" are aware of and planning with (Saturn centric strategy).

3. The value of the U.S. dollar will rise, perhaps as sharply as a rocket, through President Trump's leadership. Currency speculators should take this very seriously as I believe he's on a mission to save the USD through extraordinary means and measures like gold.

4. Zelensky holds the lowest hierarchical rank within the image which resonates with my recent prediction that 'Zelensky the Aquarius' will be falling after the next new moon in Aquarius which comes on January 29th, 2025.

5. Nuclear and radiological imagery conveys the message of crisis of this nature that dark forces intend to amplify and exploit to negatively change power dynamics within the world. The eye with the radiation symbol correlates with Pluto's entry into Aquarius.

6. The other eye to the right appears to be the same from the pyramid on the USD, an easy read here is "watch what we do with the USD" which has of course been used as an economic weapon for a long, long time. President Trump can 'game change' this with gold. The hour glass next to the 'dollar eye' says that the dollar will have more time or that the clock on it will be refreshed.

7. The Japanese Yen appears forecasted (or plotted) to decline along with the power and influence of Ursula Von Der Leyen who is likely to be axed by Saturn in '25.

8. There is a certain city beneath Saturn that seems unaffected in a negative way, a city above President Trump and perhaps the USA which he represents. The "City of Saturn" is a concept that should be kept in mind, especially a new "City of Saturn" as Saturn will be transitioning into Aries, the house of all things new.

9. President Putin, the great Christian hope and power of the East, is placed beneath a globe showing his region in emergency red beside a syringe which inclines me to think of a new biological threat in his area. I pray that his new cancer vaccine hasn't been tampered with.

10. EV battery supply issues also appear forecasted, with Saturn entering Aries battles for land, territory and raw materials will definitely be intensifying globally.

11. The white rocket next to President Trump seems to be an admission that 'Trump world' will be taking off. The rocket can also symbolize @elonmusk who has (thank God) propelled President Trump's ambitions.

12. The red communist fist at the bottom of the image implies a series weakening of communist social power.

13. I'm not quite sure who the woman is at the bottom but I feel inspired to think of Marine Le Pen as a new power player on the global chessboard. Watch her.

14. Xi and Putin are 'to the right' of Saturn (implying that they are philosophical good actors) while Ursula and Zelenksy are 'to the left' of Saturn (implying that they are bad actors). Trump is in the middle, between worlds, where he'll be tested in his 'bridge making' ability in '25.

15. The eyes to the left and right of Trump convey a message that he is being watched in an "all seeing" manner by shadow powers. Saturn above Trump, in a 'third eye' position, inspires me to think that he has a blind spot for Saturn, especially the astrological Saturn, which he should learn to see through his inner eye.

16. President Xi is depicted with a higher status than President Trump although the imagery near Trump implies a 'rise to the occasion' type of momentum and challenge that Trump will pose to Xi and China in economic terms. Between this and the Yen decline imagery I get chills for the Asian market in general.

17. Imagery for the secret AI arms race is suspiciously missing although the text reads, "crunch year for AI, will the $1T gamble pay off?" In other words, look at this and look at that but don't think of the secret AI arms race.

In closing I must state, as I have repeatedly through the years, that 'world elites' use astrology in secret and here they are putting Saturn at the top of their 2025 agenda.

Watching wisely,

Astrologer Salvador Russo

It's a pretty good description 🤔

#pay attention #educate yourselves #educate yourself #reeducate yourselves #knowledge is power #reeducate yourself #think about it #think for yourselves #think for yourself #do your homework #do your own research #do research #do some research #ask yourself questions #question everything #astrology #you decide #decode #interesting

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talonabraxas · 4 months ago

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Phoenix Arcanum XIX, The Sun

Divinatory Meaning of this Card

Every day the golden light beams of the sun disperses the darkness of night and the 30th path on the Tree of Life links the sphere of Yod (Splendour-Mercury) with Yesod (Foundation-Moon) from the left hand side to the central pillar. In Tarot symbolism it is known as the “Collective Intelligence” which translates as the sum total of the 12 zodiacal influences, the celestial portents as well as the fixed stars in the science of astrology that represent the total evolution of the human personality through the process of reincarnation. However, astrologically, it also represents Mercury, as spirit or intellect, acting through the sphere of the Sun, as the masculine principle upon the Moon as the feminine principle. The Sun is simultaneously a receiver and transformer of other planetary influences within its own solar system. In this sense therefore, as it is part of the astral triad, it denotes the rigour of the heart or emotions combined with that of the “hidden soul body”. In declaration of the phrase;

“We do not observe the Sun by the light of the Moon,

No, even the Sun is illuminated and perceived by its own radiance.

Similarly, the true self is made real in this world by the eminence of its own light.”

The gestalt image of a face (Resh) or countenance implying that this path is actually an alchemical synthesis of solar and lunar energies, often represented in the subtle body as the alternating, coiling spirals of ida and pingala usually illustrated in the winged symbol of the caduceus carried by the Greek god Hermes. This path or journey is both individual and universal since it embodies and integrates the physical, the intellectual and the emotional aspects of the personality. It suggests working in harmony with other forms of consciousness, the necessary application of the human will or directive, and the recognition in human affairs of the subtle influences of the collective sub-consciousness.

Positive: Union, material happiness acclaim and recognition celebration of friendship or marriage, success in creative endeavours, openness with children. New achievements, growth and liberation from negative forces. Altruism.

Negative: Loneliness, dissolution abnormal relationships, regression inadequacy.

SPHERE: The Collective Intelligence Resh – A Face Astrological: The Sun in Leo, the 5th House. Constellation: Pegasus – The Flying Horse Sacred Gemstone: Tiger’s Eye or Sunstone

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watchingblsnowandforever · 7 months ago

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Hello.

Listen, I'm still not over ep 11 yet. AND THEN THEY GIVE ME THIS I- *muffled screaming*

Anyways, welcome to my crack posts. =D

Warning: long post 😊😅 (I somehow took even more screenshots than last time 😭)

I knew something like this would happen hehe

Also-

Don't lie, Peem, he'd already won your heart the moment he said "Na, krab" with those puppy eyes

I love how despite thinking they're enemies up till this point, Tan immediately jumps on the ship the moment he learns it exists.

Fang: cute. <3

Q: cutee. <33

Shy babygirl Peem has my whole heart 🥺🫶🏼

Yeah? Anyone specific you want to draw a portrait of, Peem? Someone from Engineering, maybe? Someone who confessed to you in front of all your combined friends just last night? No? 👀

This smile. This goddamn smile. I get you, Peem, I totally get you.

Q peeking in small into the bag is so accurate 😭

As I'd said in my previous post: "Right in front of my salad?!" and "Something very LGBT just happened to me o.o"

NOSE BOOP

I love nose boops hehe

[Phum: I have to go to class.]

You actually go to class?! *pikachu meme face*

Q's face perfectly expresses my feeling, and I'm definitely saving these as meme pics

Peem's plan to be hit on backfired so fast so hard 😭

Poor boy went into shock 😭

Peem is never hearing the end of this from Q. Never.

I love their friendship though. Besties forever. <3

Toey looks so excited here 😭🫶🏼

He's definitely over the moon that his two beloved hias finally realized they like each other (and of course he manifested this wdyem)

Throwing stones from inside a glass house, huh Q?

You're just as bad as, if not worse than Peem.

*shaking my head fondly* these boys are so whipped for their baes

This ep gave me a lot of meme pic ehehe

Why so surprised, Peem? You were the one telling Phum to flirt on you, why so shy now huh?

Oh, Aunt Pui knows. She's just trying to help her nephew get a nice boyfriend hehe

Also- learning the family business early on? Nice move, Phum.

I'm pretty sure Aunt Pui will accept Phum as family the very instant they start dating.

Actually- she probably already has.

What will you be tying next? The knot?? (I am so so happy I can make that joke and actually mean it now.)

Oh, and I love love love their dynamics. I'm always looking for verse because I don't like active power dynamics, but this show really delivered on it. There's always a push and pull, but throughout, they're equals. Yes, even through that slave era (remember how exactly Peem came to be his slave?). It did start off with a slight imbalance, but it evened out pretty fast (because Phum is incapable of not being the cutest clingy little puppy for more than ten minutes and Peem is weak for it).

PhumPeem/PeemPhum is giving me so much that I'd thought I'd almost never get from BLs (there are a few other examples, I think, but this is probably my topmost).

I don't know if y'all have noticed, but Phum is deliberately soft and is often using polite pronouns for the last two episodes.

It's just... they're so pretty 😭

This scene is just >>>

He-

HE LEARNED LATTE ART JUST TO USE THIS LINE WITH PEEM I'M DYING OH GODS

Phum is 200% committed. Other upcoming BL romantic interests, please take notes.

Jokes aside, what started out as a potential red flag (even two years ago, this relationship would have been very very different) turned into the greenest flag (with a side of childhood trauma).

Did he just-

He almost confessed!!! So close!!

Also- please give me them as boyfriends already, I'm on my hands and knees. But can you imagine what they'll be like when they actually start dating...?

...

I CAN'T WAIT. GIMME NOW. *grabby hands*

This scene made me speechless. Ep 12 was full of beautiful, absolutely stunning scenes, but this was what took my breath - his cute smile that lights up his whole face, his "Pai, krab" and the sheer relief when Peem asks him if he wants to go.

For a moment there, he thought Peem would leave, just like all the people in his life. He knows it wouldn't be permanent, but it's hard to get rid of such an old, deep-rooted fear.

But Peem, unknowingly, immediately waves it away by asking him if he wanted to come with. The only thing is... I don't think it was that unknowing.

I'll end part 1 on this note. Part 2 will be posted soon!

If you've reached this far, thank you so much for reading! 😊

Here, have a doughnut 🍩

And here are my previous We Are posts.

#we are #we are series #we are the series #thai bl #phumpeem #qtoey #tanfang #chainpun #watching bls: we are #let's talk bl

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yanderecrazysie · 9 months ago

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Could you do yandere hantengu clones x reader? Thanks

Title: The Winner Takes It All

Pairings: Hantengu Clones (Sekido, Karaku, Aizetsu, Urogi) x Reader

WARNINGS: Yandere themes, descriptions of death

Summary: Maybe you weren’t meant to be a demon slayer. Either way, you’ve bitten off way more than you can chew.

“The winner takes it all

The loser's standing small

Beside the victory

That's her destiny”

-From “The Winner Takes It All” by ABBA

The trees seem to press in on you, their tall branches arching over your head to cage you in. The darkness is all-consuming- inky blackness coats everything outside of the light of the village. The light is brighter than it should be, seeing as many of the buildings are ablaze, the fire casting flickering shadows across the dead grass.

The wood of the houses is dry from the lack of rain and catches fire like boxes of tinder. The inhabitants run screaming from the area, praying that they will reach the next village over and find refuge there. After all, their home is no longer safe.

The air is thick with the scent of demons.

You watch as your crow flies off, back to the safety of the demon slayer corp headquarters. Hopefully, it will return with a hashira, instead of more lower ranks like you and the only other two slayers that still stand.

There had been twenty-something of you to start.

Blood coats the ground in puddles and splatters. The bodies of demon slayers and villagers alike litter the streets and are picked apart by rats. Neither the innocent villagers nor the trained warriors were sufficiently prepared for this battle.

The two slayers that stand are both young men, a rank or two above you at most. You do not know them, but you beg the gods to keep them alive. It’s not for their sake, no, it’s a selfish wish.

You don’t want to be alone.

Chaos rages through the village from four completely different sources. The initial demon has disappeared, the false excitement of taking off his head long since faded. He was, no doubt, alive and hiding somewhere as the four new demons that had come from the beheading wreaked havoc on the burning village.

You want to go back to the headquarters, where it was safe, and find a job that didn’t involve actually fighting man-eating demons anymore. You had cut off the heads of 47 demons, but none of them had been a part of the 12 kizuki, much less an upper moon.

You had seen the “Upper Rank Four” kanji written on his wide red eyes as he begged and pleaded to keep his head. Such a pathetic demon didn’t seem to fit in the upper ranks, and it seemed like it would be a quick execution.

Now, you wish none of you had fallen for that trap. From his head grew another and another until four completely different, extremely powerful demons were wielding their destructive power on the helpless village.

“Hey!” a voice sounds above you, one filled with a boundless joy that does not belong here, “Isn’t that the girl Hantengu’s always watching?”

Slowly, you look up. You’re the only girl around, there’s no doubt in your mind that you’re the topic on his tongue, but you wallow in denial. Hantengu? Isn’t that the name of the whiny demon we were sent to slay?

Above you, flapping his wings, is one of the four demons that now plague this village. His golden eyes stare playfully down at you, his mouth open in a smile so wide that you can see the word “joy” written in black on his tongue.

“I’m so excited! I’ve always wanted to meet you!” Suddenly, the half-bird man is folding his wings and diving straight down at you, cackling gleefully.

You swing your sword upwards desperately but he dodges the blow with ease, his hands- or, rather, his talons, grip your shoulders and rip you off the ground with a kick that sends dust flying and the pair of you into the air.

You have nothing to grab onto but your sword and it takes all you have to hold onto that when the shock of your feet leaving the ground hits you. His talons dig into your skin through your uniform, the nails thick and sharp. Unable to do much else, you let him do what he wants.

He flies to the tallest building’s roof and drops you a few feet above it. You land awkwardly and feel a pain shoot through your ankle as you struggle to find purchase on the slanted ground. Finally, you come to a stop near the edge, heart pounding as you take your sword in both hands and glare at the avian man soaring high above you in the night sky.

A clang startles you and you swing around to face yet another demon. This one has red eyes that glare daggers through your very soul, and his Khakkhara staff bangs ominously against the shingles of the flat roof he stands upon.

He looks much less friendly than the bird-man and suddenly you wish you were in the air again.

Even worse, the other two demons approach from your left and right respectively. The golden-eyed joyful bird-man lands behind you, so that you are completely surrounded by the demon clones.

“You have a good eye, Urogi,” the demon to your left speaks to the bird-like demon with a grin. He has emerald green eyes and carries an Uchiwa, which you recognize as the reason behind most of the destruction in the village houses. You remember him waving the innocent-looking leaf and wrecking a huge hole through several homes at once with just the air alone.

He catches your eye and sticks out his tongue playfully. You are able to easily read the word “pleasure” written on his tongue and cringe in disgust. He laughs, “Aww, she’s so cute! I just want to eat her up!”

The red-eyed demon with the deadly glare raises his Khakkhara and looks down on you with disdain, “I’ll finish her off quickly.”

You prepare for death, closing your eyes and forcing back tears. If only a hashira had come…

“But won’t Hantengu be sad?” a soft voice asks. You open your eyes and look over at the demon to your right. He has big, sorrowful eyes and he looks down, carefully avoiding your gaze.

The scary red-eyed demon holds his Khakkhara in the air, mercifully keeping it from touching the ground and releasing the electric bolts that had spelled the end for several other demon slayers. He lets out an angry huff and his glare turns even crueller, “Maybe he will be happy to see her in pieces.”

“No, he loves her!” the blue-eyed demon insists.

“What demon loves a human?” the red-eyed demon questions in disgust.

“The one we split off of apparently,” the green-eyed demon snickers, taking the information in stride, “‘means we can’t kill her, Sekido.”

“Fine, kill the remaining two scum,” the red-eyed demon, Sekido, commands.

Urogi spreads his wings and cackles, “Gladly!”

“With pleasure,” the green-eyed demon agrees.

The two of them leap off of the tall building, landing uninjured on the ground far below and charging the other two demon slayers. You watch in horror as Urogi opens his mouth, a yellow light glowing brightly in his mouth, paired with a feral screech from his throat before shooting out and hitting the two men square in the face. They fall back, paralyzed, completely helpless as the green-eyed demon descends upon them and…

You look away as the first blood splatter hits the ground. You can’t stand to watch them in their final moments, torn literally limb from limb. There is no hope for them. You know before the final scream that they are doomed to die.

Your trembling legs give way beneath you and you fall to your knees. You slide a little closer to the edge and you almost wish you would fall to your death. Surely that would be quicker than whatever these demons have planned for you.

The sounds of squishing flesh and splashing blood fills your ears. Tears drip down your cheeks and fall from your chin. You’re truly alone now. Or, rather, you’re the only human around.

“Hey, do you think Master Muzan will let us keep her?” an arm wraps around your waist and pulls you close. You look up tearfully and shudder when you see the pleasure demon looking down at you with excitement.

“How sad, maybe she would prefer death,” the sad demon says, “I fear that we may break her.”

The red-eyed demon walks up to you and grips your chin tightly, tilting it upwards so he can study you. He is quiet for a moment or two before he lets you go.

“I can’t deny she is quite attractive,” he admits, angry frown still not leaving his face.

“So we can keep her?” the green-eyed demon asks.

“Ahh, my heart is singing with joy!” Urogi crows, “She’ll be ours forever!”

“Until she dies, of course…” the blue-eyed demon moans sadly.

“Don’t be stupid,” the angry demon huffs, “Master Muzan will turn her into a demon.”

“What a sad fate…”

Urogi smiled widely, “Well, why not begin forever now?” He turned to you, smile morphing into a smirk, “Sorry red riding hood, the big, bad wolf is winning this time around.”

He opened his mouth and a yellow light began to glow inside it.

In a moment, you’d be unconscious and completely at his mercy.

#yandere #yandere x reader #yandere one shot #one shot #yandere demon slayer #demon slayer

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ktwritesstuff · 2 years ago

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The Babysitter (a Last of Us fanfic) pt. 1

Title: The Babysitter Fandom: The Last of Us Rating: PG (Later chapters will be explicit) Characters & Pairings: Joel Miller x Reader Word Count: ~2,000 Summary: Sarah's babysitter has a thing for Joel. Lovingly beta-read by @bs-fangirl, The Last of Us's number one fangirlie. <3

Austin 2002

“Hey, Sweetpea!”

You looked up at the sound of your childhood nickname, not sure right away who was calling for you. In a small town familiarity was de rigueur. You went to school with people referred to exclusively as Cooter, Biggie, and Ears, so it could have been worse.

You were waiting for the bus just outside the school cafeteria when your brother, Paul, came over in his football uniform. He almost never talked to you at school, so you figured he wanted something. He was old for his grade and had made the varsity team as a sophomore; your parents were over-the-moon. In your opinion, it had gone to his head.

“You have a dollar? I want to get a gatorade before practice.”

“Here,” you dug through your purse and fished out your last dollar, rolling your eyes as he sprinted off toward the vending machines without so much as a thank you.

“We’re going to the mall when Andy gets out of practice, you wanna come?” Your best friend, Cheryl, asked.

“I can’t,” you said. “I’m babysitting.”

“Nah,” your friend Mercedes teased. “She’s got a hot date with Papi Joel.”

“Oh my God,” Cheryl laughed. “That’s so messed up, stop it.”

“Yeah, that’s super weird,” you laughed along, hoping they wouldn’t notice the blush rising in your cheeks.

The truth was, you had long-harbored a crush on your handsome neighbor down the block: rugged good looks and soulful brown eyes, hardworking, good with his hands, a loving father, the whole package left you feeling weak in the knees. But you would never say so, not even to your best friend. As nice as it was to daydream about, you knew it could never happen and admitting it would just make you look desperate and pathetic.

“Seriously though,” Mercedes insisted. “If you had to pick a dad, he’s primo DILF material.”

“JJ’s dad is kinda hot,” Tina said, stubbing out her joint on the sidewalk ramp.

“JJ’s dad isn’t hot,” Mercedes corrected. “He just lets us party in his barn–besides, clearly Mr. Miller has ulterior motives. What 12 year old still needs a babysitter?”

It was true, Sarah was getting a little old for a sitter, but Joel still asked you to keep an eye on her. You figured he wanted her to have another girl to talk to. Someone older and wiser she could confide in about bullies, to go shopping with her, and teach her how to use a tampon. On paper, you were a certified good-influence: a church-going honors student, marching band, a literal Girl Scout.

Joel couldn’t afford to pay you much, but he was a good guy. He kept your favorite snacks in the house and gave you rides when your daddy wouldn’t let you use the Jeep; last summer he had installed a phone jack in your room so you could have your own line. More than that, Sarah was actually a pretty cool kid; you liked hanging out with her.

“Seriously, Mercedes,” you warned. “I know you’re just fucking around, but you can’t talk like that. Not at school. That’s the kind of shit that got Mr. Spaden put on a watchlist.”

“That and flashing sixth period APUSH,” Mercedes laughed.

“He’s like a widower, right?” Tina asked. “Kind of emo.”

Your brow furrowed.

“I don’t know,” you admitted. “They don’t really talk about Sarah’s mom.”

“I mean, she has to be dead, right?” Cheryl said. “What kind of mom would just abandon her kid like that?”

You shrugged. “Maybe that’s why they don’t talk about her.”

The Millers’ house was just two streets over from yours. At 4pm you met Sarah at her bus stop and walked her home.

“So how was school?” you asked.

Sarah shrugged. “You know, it’s school.”

You wrapped an arm around Sarah, giving her an encouraging squeeze as you walked.

“Guess what I brought,” you said, reaching into your bag for your copy of Clueless on dvd. “We can make popcorn and paint our nails, give you a little makeover. What do you think?”

“Sounds good,” Sarah leaned into you. “As long as you use real butter this time. None of that diet crap that gave me the shits.”

“Well excuse me,” you rolled your eyes. “Not all of us can be effortlessly thin.”

You ordered pizza–an indulgence, but Joel insisted on treating when he had to work late–and put on the movie. By the time the credits rolled your mani-pedis had time to set, so you brought out your makeup bag and let Sarah pick out a CD to put in the stereo–some twangy duet. A man and a woman singing along to a surprisingly cheerful tune.

Bye bye love, bye bye happiness Hello loneliness, I think I’m gonna cry…

“What happened to Destiny’s Child?” you asked.

“Nothing,” Sarah stuck her tongue out. “It’s one of my dad’s.”

You knew Sarah had more alternative sensibilities–even more than yours–and sometimes struggled to fit in. She didn’t shop at Hollister and Abercrombie, she didn’t have straight hair and pencil-thin eyebrows. She didn’t even have a traditional family. Everyone wanted to belong somewhere, but you hoped with a little guidance, Sarah could avoid some of the pitfalls you had faced in high school and figure out she didn’t have to change herself for the sake of others.

“You don’t have to like something just because your dad does,” you said as Sarah took a seat on the carpet beside you. “You have to decide for yourself–make your own way in the world.”

“For your information,” Sarah said. “Loretta Lynn is very punk.”

“Alright, punk,” you laughed. “We can work with that.”

You gave Sarah a mirror to hold as you dusted her eyelids with sparkly blue shadow and showed her how to apply pencil to her waterline.

“You’re pretty enough as it is,” you said, dipping a brush into the blush to apply on the apples of her cheeks. “We’re just enhancing your natural beauty.”

Sarah shifted her seat, her brows furrowing with tension.

“How do you find somebody,” she asked. “Someone you like and let them know you want to get to know them.”

“I’m sorry, honey, I think I’m the wrong person to ask,” you said with a laugh. “I haven’t had much luck in that department. Just be yourself, anyone who doesn’t appreciate that isn’t worth your time.”

“There aren’t any boys you like at school?”

“To be honest, high school boys are pretty gross,” you said. “Why, is there someone you’re interested in?”

“Do you like my dad?” Sarah blurted out.

You froze; the hairs on the back of your neck prickling.

“What? Are you being funny?” you forced a laugh, setting down your makeup brushes. Your ears burned red. “Of course I like your dad. He’s super nice.”

“No, I mean do you like him like him,” Sarah pressed. “Do you think he’s cute…”

“He’s a good looking man,” you stammered, hoping it sounded like it was the first time this had occurred to you. “You know, for a grown up.”

“He doesn’t have anybody,” Sarah frowned. “Doesn’t go out..Meet people…Date. If he’s a good guy and girls think he’s cute. It’s gotta be me, don’t you think? I’m the reason he’s alone.”

“Oh Sarah,” you sighed, taking her hands. “It’s not you. And even if it were, you’re worth it. Your daddy loves you more than anything–I wish my parents had half as much interest in my life as your dad has in yours. You are amazing; you have such a good heart. So you can’t think like that, okay? You are enough. You are everything.”

Sarah nodded and you dabbed her eyes with a tissue before her mascara started running.

“Come here, let me put on the finishing touch.” You swiped peach-flavored gloss across her lips. “What do you think?”

“I look different,” she said, observing her reflection in the little compact mirror. “I think I like it.”

“You should keep this one,” you said, handing her the lip gloss. “Color looks better on you.”

Sarah held the tube of gloss in both hands and finally cracked a smile.

“It’s getting late. You go wash up before bed, alright,” you told her. “You want to take a bubble bath? I brought Warm Vanilla Sugar.”

You waited downstairs while Sarah cleaned up; she changed into her pjs and was in bed by 10:30. You nodded off on the couch for a bit until Joel came in a little after 11.

“Hey, Sweetpea, thanks for staying,” Joel said, reaching into his back pocket and pulling a $20 out of his wallet for you. “I really appreciate it.”

He looked tired. In your half-dozing state, you wondered what it would be like to be the one he came home to at night. To greet him at the door with a beer and a kiss. To curl up on the couch together for movie nights with Sarah nestled between you. To have someone to take care of and someone to take care of you.

“Yeah, of course,” you yawned, rubbing your eyes. “She’s been good as gold. Just got to bed about a half hour ago.”

“Let me just say goodnight and I’ll give you a ride home,” Joel said, heading up the stairs.

You gathered your things while Joel tucked in Sarah. He grabbed his keys and ushered you outside. He opened the passenger side door of his truck for you to climb in.

Joel started up the car and pulled out of the driveway. His hand was resting on the gearshift. You stretched, letting your hand brush against his. He pulled away like you had burned him.

“Your hands are freezing,” he said, reaching for the heater, turning the dial all the way up. “It’ll warm up in a minute, put your hands up to the vent.”

You drew your hands back into your lap, sitting stock-still and ashamed as Joel turned the car at the end of the cul de sac.

“So how’s school going?” Joel asked, breaking the silence.

“Pretty good,” you nodded.

“You thinking about college, or–”

“Right now, UT Austin,” you said.

“That’s a great school,” Joel said. “Close to home.” You watched a muscle in his jaw flex.

“It’s a guaranteed scholarship once I finish my Gold Award,” you said. “I’m building a rosary garden for the church.” That was if the stupid council ever approved your damn project. Even after you had planted and mulched and hauled paving stones and gravel, they kept insisting you needed to do more. Apparently anything less than solving world hunger fell short of their expectations–and yet the Eagle Scouts got all the prestige?

“I remember, you were working on that the last time you came over,” he said. “How’s it going?”

“Actually, I was wondering if you might let me borrow some tools,” you said. “I’m building a pergola, you know, to shade the Blessed Virgin.”

You chuckled and Joel chuckled.

“Yeah, absolutely,” he said. “Can’t let the Blessed Virgin get heat stroke, right?”

“I really appreciate it,” you said, glancing sideways at him. “My daddy’s kind of useless.”

“Your daddy’s a good man,” Joel said sternly as he turned the truck down your street. “A good man.”

“I know.” You stared out the window. Your father had helped the Millers out after Tommy got arrested at Benji’s drive in for decking some guy for calling him a wetback. But clearly Joel had never seen your daddy drunk. “I just wouldn’t trust him around power tools.”

Joel stopped the car along the curb at the end of your driveway. You held your breath as he reached over you to unlatch the door and push it open.

“You go on now,” he instructed. “I’ll watch you get in the door.”

“Goodnight, Mr. Joel,” you said, sliding down from the seat of the truck. You were keenly aware of his eyes on your back as you made your way down the driveway.

You paused with your key in the front door, looking back down the drive before you stepped inside. Joel was still waiting; you waved at him and he smiled back before shifting the car into gear as you closed the door.

#joel miller x reader #the last of us fanfiction #the last of us #the last of us hbo #joel miller #pedro pascal #tlou fanfiction #tlou #tlou hbo

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chappcdlips · 1 month ago

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// ( aldis hodge . cis man . he/him ) . ⸻ cyrus cromwell , a thirty-eight year old , has survived another day in red creek where they have lived for ten months (but grew up there) . the magnet is known for being charismatic and vain and is often associated with caffeine fueled days, loud laughter in quiet places, displeasure hidden behind a dazzling smile . in a small town where they work as a teacher at red creek k-12 word travels fast . it’s hard to keep a secret , and it looks like the boogeyman knows that redacted .

STATS

full name: cyrus carson cromwell hometown: red creek, mi sexuality: closeted bisexual birthday: may 23 zodiac: gemini sun, sagittarius moon, sagittarius rising height: 6’2” languages spoken: english, arabic, mandarin, russian, spanish, conversational french and german marital status: married children: 2, zeke (8) and lily (6) traits: charismatic, intelligent, driven, vain, manipulative, sycophantic

BACKGROUND

second oldest of the cromwell family, cyrus always knew he was expected to achieve great things

while he helped tori with their younger siblings sometimes, he spent a lot of time out of the house with his friends

he was popular at school and super involved in the red creek community, star of the high school basketball team, class vice president his senior year, valedictorian — his list of accolades is long

when he graduated, he immediately got tf out of red creek, attending stanford

he majored in political science and linguistics with a minor in international relations, eyes on a job with the UN eventually

when he graduated, he moved to europe and then continued to move around the world, working as a translator at various embassies and UN facilities

somewhere in there he met his wife (submitting as a wc... *eyes*) and they had two kids

but about a year ago REDACTED happened and cy shortly after moved his family back to red creek very abruptly

now he's working as a teacher at his alma mater, teaching government to high school seniors and probably is a language tutor on the side for anyone who wants to learn a language he knows; he claims he just wanted to "slow down" but... yeah, that's not really true... ANYWAY!

PERSONALITY AND FUN FACTS tw brief mention of internalized biphobia

kind of an egomaniac, thinks he is god's gift to this earth (and maybe he is idk)

he knows he's hot

very protective of his siblings and family and anyone he cares about

very charismatic, easily commands and keeps a room's attention and LOVES it

was absolutely a ladies man in high school and college, dated a lot before meeting his wife; recent conflict with his wife probably has him being a little flirty when he shouldn't //: men smh

is bisexual but insecure about it and very much tries not to let people know that as he's always kind of felt pressure to be the typical big, strong Man of the House, especially because his parents weren't around a lot he's always wanted to fit the picture perfect image he was "meant for" which only included heterosexuality in his mind

hates navy blue, refuses to wear anything in that color

has an insane workout routine and is in the process of constructing a guest house in his backyard just for a gym space (not very handy like That, so someone please come help him build it)

does not feel guilty about getting tf out of red creek as soon as he could, doesn't feel guilty about most things he does even if they're somewhat questionable????

fake as fuck, even if he hates you he will smile at you like (((:

the murders scared him as a kid since he was around 13 but now he kinda thinks the whole resurgence/boogeyman returning theory is bullshit; he was friends with one of heather's siblings and saw firsthand the kind of grief people were going through, so now he thinks people are bringing it back as a story to scare the young people in town

character inspo: mr. incredible (the incredibles), steve (the haunting of hill house), patrick bateman (american psycho), mouth (the goonies), fitz (scandal)

#redcreek.intro

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rust-painted-fingers · 3 months ago

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Day 2 ... Full Moon

Techno's finger's glided over the keys, touch quick and playful. His shadow danced and flickered, following the rhythm of the music.

It was half past three, and Phil has yet to arrive home.

A dissonant chord echoed through the house, Techno's accompanying sigh hidden.

"I swear if you come back with an open wound…" Techno murmured, gaze enraptured by the flickering flame.

Phil was having a very bad, no good, terrible fucking shift.

12 hours till 3 am:

"You ready Phil?"

He met Niki's eyes and they shared a sigh.

"I swear to god I'm never taking this shift ever again, I'll fucking transfer if I have to," Phil grumbled, going over inventory.

"That's what you say now, but then you'll start feeling like a hare in a colony of bunnies soon enough," Niki quipped, scrubbing down the inside of the truck. "If I couldn't stand three hours what makes you think you can?"

Phil ignored her.

"Uhh, what are you talking about…"

Ranboo jumped at the sudden attention from the two of them.

"Shit this is your first time, isn't it?"

Niki bulldozed through Ranboo's spluttering, "Ignore him, he's just grumpy his and Techno's schedule never align." She waved her, now ignoring Phil's indignant 'Hey!' "All you need to know is everything's about to be more chaotic."

"Chaotic…?" It was clear Ranboo had no clue what was going on.

Phil sighed, "The full moon is here and its about to make every patient ten times more difficult."

"I thought that was just a myth," Ranboo said, fingers fidgeting with the box of supplies Phil asked for.

Taking the box, Phil called over his shoulder, "Believe it or not, be prepared for the worst."

10 hours till 3 am:

"How do you cut your finger off with a pumpkin scoop."

Phil looked up from his stretch. "You alright?"

Ranboo lifted his head, wonder shining in his eyes, plus some speck of pumpkin guts. "It was a kid kit."

21 year old male, helping his nieces carve their first pumpkin. Overeager and began carving the pumpking before all of the guts were scooped. Wanting to clean it up a little more, he grabbed ahold of the pumpking bowling style and lobbed his ring finger off.

Phil shrugged, "You've seen worse."

"Yeah, and somehow a pumpkin full of blood is still more disturbing."

"Ok it wasn't filled—"

"Alright boys, we can worry about Ranboo's mental state later, can you reach the top? I think I saw some guts fly up there."

Phil watched as Ranboo sweeped pumpkin innards into a bucket, already tired.

8 hours till 3am:

"Oh my god Jason you fucking asshole!"

"Ma'am we need you to step aside."

"You know I get scared easy, why would you—"

"Hey I know this is a lot, what's your name?"

"Jessica," the young woman sobbed, tears and blood streaming down her face.

"Ok, hi Jessica, I'm Ranboo. I need you to follow me outside, I promise you my team is doing everything they can to help— Jason was it?"

"They named him after that stupid fucking movie, I know!"

"Hey this is not a judging zone, promise, let's get you…" His voice went distant, escorting the distraught wife outside of the kitchen.

Phil locked eyes with Niki.

"On three, one, two, three—!"

30 year old male, father. Wanted to surprise his wife who was preparing dinner. Instead, he got a surprise slash to the chest, inches away from his neck.

"Well there goes our scary movie nights…" Jason groaned. Phil and Niki were careful but speed was critical and a few bumps were unnavoidable.

They passed Ranboo and Jessica. "I can't fucking believe you did that on our anniversary." She seemed more composed, her wobbly voice the only sign of distress.

"Ranboo."

"Ready."

5 hours till 3 am:

"I thought firefighters were the ones who helped people stuck on trees."

"They do, but our patient isn't stuck in a tree anymore," Ranboo said. Phil was more preoccupied cleaning his hands once more with a wipe. Blood always got tacky and settled inside the skin. It was a feeling Phil grew used to but even he could only tolerate it so much.

Niki glanced over to the front. "Hey Ranboo, are you sure they gave you the right direction? The city doesn't have any trees, at least not this far in."

"Didn't you guys know, they installed a new sculpture downtown," Ranboo grimaced, eyes on the road.

A beat.

"You're joking."

"Honestly would've thought you knew, Phil, didn't Techno mention it?"

Phil didn't answer the question, because Techno did mention it. In fact, he talked about it in great detail, and Phil already knew the scene awaiting them was going to be bloody as all hell.

"Niki, get double of everything ready." Because the tree they were headed to was an installation that featured spikes surrounding the trunk. Phil can still remember the excited way Techno spoke of the symbolism, how there was a birds nest that the cuckoo chick basically took hostage. It wasn't meant to last long, there was a numbered amount of normal eggs the cuckoo was meant to push out.

Phil wondered if Techno would be fine missing that particular date night.

4 hours till 3am:

"You alright there mate?"

Niki nodded, as if there wasn't a huge black eye forming on her right side.

Ranboo was a little too quiet for his taste, so Phil let her organize the remaining inventory to check up on him. She was used to the frenzy.

Taking in a deep breath, he released it as he knocked shoulders with Ranboo. He really was too tall, sitting down and yet he only barely reached his chin.

"It's not my fault you're short."

Any and all good will left Phil as he captured Ranboo in an elbow lock.

"It's not a matter of short or tall, Ran," Phil gritted, "It's about the abnormaility that is your femur being longer than our entire torso."

They grappled for a bit, with Phil as a clear winner because Ranboo may be over two meters, but his limbs were gangly and a trip hazard more than anything.

"Ok ok! I'm fine I promise!"

Phil let him go, but left his arm resting on his shoulders. "Yeah?"

Those shoulders shrugged. "I mean, you were right. I'm used to seeing worse. Honestly I don't think anything will ever beat that time with the maggots." Phil suppressed the urge to gag. He managed to block that memory.

"I get the feeling there's more."

A chuckle, "I don't know man, it's just weird. Usually the worst of worst gets spaced between shifts, but we just came back from a scare actor punching Niki, and that's the tame part."

Three highschoolers, ages 16 and a 17 year old, excited for a haunted house promoted as free for students. The cost came in the form of unsafe practices and two electracuted teenagers. The seventeen year old sported broken knuckles for getting into an altercation with an actor right before they arrived. Niki was mistaken for the teenager and got sucker punched.

"You gotta admit, it was pretty funny seeing the guy fly through the air."

He got a laugh, and Ranboo wheezed in between breaths, "I keep forgetting she has a black belt in Brazilian Jiu Jistsu."

"And you better not anymore after that demonstration."

Both Ranboo and Phil jumped, Niki cooly leaning against the truck.

"Aye aye, captain!" They chorused.

Niki grinned and went to sit next to the driver's seat.

2 hours till 3am:

"How ya holding up," Niki chirped.

Phil looked at her questioningly.

She rolled her eyes. "We're close to done, did you and Techno have any plans?"

"No jinxing! I am so close to saying goodbye to the mortal realm and you are not taking that from me!" Ranboo chimed in.

"You just had to ask en route?" Phil grinned.

Niki shrugged. "Can't really ask after, can I? The minute the clock strikes and you're gone," she teased.

Phil conceeded. "There's nothing planned, maybe I'll listen to a new piece he practiced." He laughed at her pout. "What do you want me to tell you? We're old and I can hear our bones crack in the morning."

She blew a nonexistent strand of her off her face — Phil didn't want to mention the tightness of her bun in case of causing unecessary stress of balding— and snapped a new pair of gloves. "Well I'm going on a picnic. It's going to be romantic and I'll have LED candles to set the mood."

"Can I come."

"I thought you were leaving this mortal realm?"

Phil just smiled, and against his better judgement, hoped this would be the last call of the night. Maybe he could surprise Techno.

30 minutes till 3am:

"I swear to gods if they don't count this as overtime—"

"Are you kidding? I'm pretty sure the director is afraid of you."

"Ranboo bring the truck around, I don't think we can move any further without making the injury worse."

Long legs disappeared around the corner before Niki finished her sentence.

"At least it isn't too bad, we should be able to get back to the hospital just before clock strikes three," Phil said, patting the man's pocket for a wallet.

Unknown adult male, heavier with height and weight, a sliced achilles heel on the right leg. Currently unconcsious.

"It's kinda weird, they didn't tell us how he got hurt… Did you find a wallet?"

It was strange, even more strange how there was nothing, not even a social security card or anything. "No, did they say anything about his mental state?"

Niki hummmed, hands busy with bandages, "Not that I remember, but they said the line cut after he provided the address, maybe he got mugged?"

The male wore a typical business suit, four pant's pockets and nothing inside them. He checked the jacket's inner pockets and yielded similar results. "This is weird, he doesn't have any further bruising or lacerations—"

"Uhm, guys…" Niki and Phil looked up, and froze.

Ranboo, with shaky fingers and a trembling lip, said, "Sorry, I didn't mean to bring them to you."

Aimed at his head, a man pointed a gun.

Bored of waiting, Techno abandonded the piano in search of Carl.

"There you are, I guess you're waiting for him too huh?"

The tortie looked up at him with wide unblinking eyes, curled in a cute donut shape on the couch.

"C'mon, let's watch something while we wait. We'll make Phil jealous that he can't join the cuddle pile until after he showers." Techno scooped up Carl, and as predicted, he began purring up a storm.

Techno wasn't paying attention all that much when he turned on the TV. Really, he just wanted some background noise while cuddling Carl so it opened on the news channel.

So focused on the soft fur beneath his hand, Techno barely caught the next words.

"—hostage situation that is using three EMT workers and an unknown civilian. Currently the hostage taker speaks of religious affiliation and requests to, quote, 'let the ritual commence without interruption—"

Techno's chest got felt heavier as he drowned out the noise of the news anchor because suddenly he was meeting Phil's gaze. It was his word ID, the one he always complained about because he looked like a sleazeball when in reality he was caught mid blink.

"Mrow."

Techno barely noticed Carl leaving his lap, his head full of static. No fucking way. It couldn't be. There would always be weird shit that happened but never did Phil get caught in a fucking hostage situ—

"Techno, hey woah—"

Before he could think beyond 'danger' his fist swung. A hang grabbed and pulled him forward, but he caught their foot to unbalance them. As gravity pulled them down Techno met Phil's eyes and only had a proficient 'fuck' fly through his head before they hit the ground. Hard.

"Ah, mate, I just got out of a hostage situation, I don't think I can spar anymore without a warmup at least."

Techno was still speechless at several realizations at once. And then he grunted as he felt Carl's 15 pound body put all his weight onto his shoulder. "Carl why are you doing this to me."

"It's called karma, Tech."

"And you!" Techno shouted, surprising Phil, "Why the hell didn't you call me! Why did I have to endure five minutes of pure adrenaline before your pasty ass got home."

Phil spluttered, choking out a laugh. "If I called you would've been even more of a wreck, what are you talking about!"

"But it would have been a controlled nervous wreck instead of an unrestrained catastrophizing spiral into—"

"Techno we're still on the floor."

"— a future where Carl would be raised by a single father—"

"Can I please shower before reassuring you I'm ok."

"I'm not letting you anywhere out of my sight from now on," Techno sniped, pulling Phil up.

Phil scritched Carl from where he curled around Techno's shoulders. "I really wasn't hurt, Niki had the worst of us and the black eye wasn't even from the guy."

It took a few minutes of patting Carl before Phil looked at Techno's unimpressed face.

"And Ranboo?"

A wince. "We pushed for him to take a break but the kid doesn't know how to stop. I think he would go insane if he actually took it."

Techno sighed. "I'm organizing a tea party and you're all expected to attend."

Phil laughed, taking off in the direction of the bathroom.

#techza #techzaspookyweek2024 #rose writes #crying cause i took a break that went on too long #i'll probably re work the ending for ao3 so it'll live on tumblr by itself for a while #next time im writing something UNDER 1k cause i cant do this daily TwT #also apologies for the formatting i don't think it transferred and i refuse to look at it any longer rn #happy techza week~

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srim01997 · 1 month ago

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Second Chance | Aemond T. x OFC

Paring: Aemond “One-Eye” Targaryen x Viseara Targaryen (OC), Implied Aegon II Targaryen x Celtigar! OFC

Fandom: House of The Dragon (HBO)

Warning: Angst, Character Death, Blood and Violence, Criston Cole being shit

Writer’s note: Please don’t kill me; this fanfic has five more chapters remaining. I promised that I would provide an ending for Ser Crispin.

Please ilke, comment and reblog!!

Previous Chapter | Second Chance masterlist | Next Chapter

Chapter 12 A Song of Ice and Fire

Viseara felt a wave of nausea during a family meal at Dragonstone, forcing Rhaenyra to check on her aunt while the others waited outside the room. Maester Gerardys examined the rogue princess thoroughly before delivering his verdict.

“Princess, you are with child.”

“How is that possible?” Viseara protested, disbelief etched on her face. “I drank moon tea. Besides, at my age, I shouldn’t be able to conceive anymore.”

The maester hesitated before replying, “Perhaps you missed a dose during your stay, or this is the will of the gods. Shall I inform your family, Princess?”

“No!” Viseara’s sharp response was immediate. “If you tell them now, my brothers and cousins will turn the realm upside down looking for the father of this child.”

Deep down, Viseara knew exactly who the father was. There was only one man she had lain with over the past months—and one night in particular when she’d neglected to take moon tea after he’d spilled his seed inside her repeatedly. If her family found out, Vhagar would likely be torn apart by two other dragons, and her rider would be chop by Dark Sister.

“But…” Gerardys began.

“I’ll tell them when I’m ready,” she cut him off, waving dismissively. “For now, tell them I’m unwell from stress. Can you do that?”

The maester nodded and left to deliver the message as instructed.

Outside the room, Aemond had shifted his focus to Viseara, his usual hostility toward the Velaryon brothers replaced by concern. Tensions had risen since King Viserys had left the dining hall. Everything had been fine until a platter of roasted pork was served, which made Luke laugh as he recalled an old prank he had pulled on Aemond. In response, the one-eyed prince raised his glass for a toast, deliberately emphasizing the word “strong,” which nearly escalated into a brawl if Daemon hadn't intervened.

Viseara, however, knew she couldn’t let her condition be discovered. Adopting a look of discomfort, she feigned illness to divert attention. “The food doesn’t sit well with me, and I’m feeling a bit unwell. If the queen doesn’t mind, I’ll retire for the evening. Please, continue to enjoy your meal.”

Rhaenyra quickly instructed Jace and Luke, “Take your grandaunt to her chambers.”

The brothers helped Viseara to her room, with Aemond’s intense gaze following her retreating figure. Once inside, she dismissed them, removed her outer gown, and collapsed onto her bed.

After some time, she felt a presence near her. A soft kiss pressed to her forehead startled her awake.

“Daemon, stop bothering me…” she mumbled groggily.

“Afraid not,” a familiar, deep voice replied. “I brought you tea and some fruitcake.”

She sat up abruptly, her mismatched eyes meeting Aemond’s as he set down a tray. His hand moved to check her forehead, but she flinched away.

“You should leave. I need rest,” she said firmly. “Thank you for the tea and cake, but go before my brother sees you here. It’ll cause trouble.”

Aemond frowned but relented, leaving the room after a gentle nudge from her. Alone again, Viseara sipped the tea and nibbled on the cake while flipping through a book. Her thoughts wandered as she realized tonight marked the end of Viserys’ reign—and the beginning of Aegon’s as the usurper king.

Determined, she finished her meal and locked her door. She accessed the hidden passage in her chamber, leading to Viserys’ room. Kneeling beside his bed, she clasped his frail hand.

“Viserys,” she whispered.

“Rhaenyra?” his voice rasped.

“No, it’s Viseara, your youngest sister,” she replied softly, her heart aching at his deteriorated state. “Brother, do you still affirm Rhaenyra as your heir?”

“Yes… Rhaenyra,” he murmured, his feeble hand tightening around hers. “Viseara… protect her.”

Before she could respond, the door creaked open. Startled, Viseara slipped back into the hidden passage, watching as Alicent entered and sat beside the king. He began to ramble incoherently, but one phrase caught Viseara’s attention:

“...Aegon… Song of Ice and Fire… the Prince That Was Promised…”

Viseara’s blood ran cold. Alicent’s misinterpretation of these words would ignite a war, one that would claim countless lives—including her own if she didn’t act swiftly. She retreated to her room, hastily drafting a letter.

When her handmaid Angera knocked urgently, Viseara opened the door.

“Princess—”

“Angera, listen carefully. Take this letter to Dragonstone and deliver it to Princess Rhaenyra and Daemon. Tell them I’ll join them as soon as possible,” she instructed. Angera nodded, slipping away unnoticed.

Viseara then prepared her escape. As expected, Alicent moved to crown Aegon while imprisoning her and Rhaenys in their chambers. Feigning compliance, Viseara tied sheets to her balcony as a decoy while plotting her true escape through the secret passages leading to the dragon pit.

Her dragon, Nyx, stirred as she approached. The Midnight Executioner, as it was known, was silent and deadly. It crouched low, allowing her to mount before slinking toward the exit.

“We’re leaving, Nyx,” she murmured, her hand resting on her belly. “Let’s get away from the father of this child for now.”

The dragon soared into the night, heading for Dragonstone, where Meleys soon joined them. Upon landing, Viseara stumbled, caught by Rhaenys.

“Viseara, are you alright?”

“I’m fine, just a little dizzy. I skipped breakfast,” she lied. “We need to see Rhaenyra.”

Inside the hall, Daemon embraced her tightly.

“Viseara, you’re drenched in sweat. You need to rest.”

“I’ll rest after delivering my news,” she insisted. “Did Angera’s message reach you? Where is Rhaenyra?”

Rhaenyra’s anguished cries cut off Daemon’s answer. The tension was palpable as Daemon began fortifying Dragonstone. Meanwhile, Viseara felt the world spin and collapsed into darkness, Rhaenys’ voice and the maester’s hurried footsteps fading as she slipped into unconsciousness.

The scent of medicine and incense tickled her nose, rousing the rogue princess from her slumber. As her eyes fluttered open, she found herself in a chamber occupied only by Rhaenys and Maester Gerardys, who was busy examining her. Her cousin's face was etched with worry, her brows deeply furrowed as she gazed at her. Rhaenys dismissed the maester with a wave before settling at the foot of the bed.

"Viseara, why didn’t you tell anyone you’re pregnant?" Rhaenys asked, her voice calm but laced with concern. "The maester says you’re in the early stages. Who is the father?"

The rogue princess rubbed her face, hesitating before replying softly, "Aemond. My nephew."

Rhaenys’s expression froze in shock, her composure faltering for the first time. She hadn’t expected that the relationship between the two had escalated to such an extent. The revelation left her momentarily speechless, but she quickly recovered, clasping Viseara’s hands tightly.

"Does Daemon know?"

Viseara shook her head vigorously. "Not yet, Rhaenys. I’ll tell him when the time is right. If I tell him now, he’ll do something reckless, without a doubt."

"You plan to wait until you’re showing to tell your twin brother?" Rhaenys sighed heavily, shaking her head in exasperation. "I can help you keep this secret, but if he finds out on his own, I won’t intervene. You’ll have to explain it to him yourself."

Viseara hugged her cousin tightly, her voice barely a whisper. "Thank you, Rhaenys. Thank you so much..."

She must have been unconscious for hours, as by the time she entered the hall, Rhaenyra was already wearing King Jaehaerys’s crown. Lord Corlys, now recovered from his injuries, stood tall. Aenys and Meria were present beside Lord Celtigar, but there was no sign of Elia. Daemon approached her, placing a hand on her forehead to check for fever.

"Are you sure you’re up to this?"

"I’m fine, brother. How far along are the discussions?" Viseara asked as she approached the table, where the map had already been lit with fire, indicating the council’s seriousness. It seemed they were back to planning their next moves. What came after this meeting would determine whether she could save Lucerys.

"Aenys, can you try bonding with a dragon again?" she asked her second son. "Celtigar Castle needs protection against enemy dragons. Do you have one in mind this time?"

"I’d rather not tell you just yet," the young Celtigar smirked, clearly keeping his choice a secret on purpose.

"And Elia?"

"I didn’t see her at the coronation," Rhaenys said to Viseara. "The Greens didn’t kill her because she’s still useful to them. They’re likely using her and her child as leverage against Aegon."

That leech Otto! He’s going too far this time. He’ll be dragon food for Nyx soon enough.

Because of her earlier exhaustion and fainting spell, Viseara had missed Otto’s bold move—showing up at Dragonstone to propose a deal. He offered Rhaenyra recognition of Aegon as king in exchange for avoiding bloodshed. Rhaenyra would be Lady of Dragonstone, and her sons would remain unharmed.

As if anyone would accept that, you decrepit green leech!

The only option left for Rhaenyra now was to summon the houses that had sworn oaths to her father: Arryn, Stark, and Baratheon. Jace suggested that using ravens would take too long, so he and Luke volunteered to go as dragon riders to secure their loyalty.

Viseara immediately spoke up. "Let Lucerys go to the Eyrie, niece. Storm’s End is too dangerous for a young dragon if a storm arises. My dragon is strong enough to weather any storm. Don’t worry, Rhaenyra—I promise I won’t burn Storm’s End to the ground."

Before leaving for Storm’s End, Viseara bid farewell to Daemon and Rhaenys. Daemon chose to stay and guard Dragonstone while also keeping an eye on Aenys, ensuring he wouldn’t recklessly attempt to claim a wild dragon. Rhaenys, meanwhile, would lead the Velaryon fleet to patrol the Gullet and secure the sea routes.

"You’re in the early stages of pregnancy. Be careful," Rhaenys urged, gripping her hands tightly. "I’m not sure whether you or the Greens will reach Storm’s End first. Promise me you’ll return to Dragonstone safely."

"Are you worried about me, cousin?"

"I admit I’m more worried about you than Daemon," Rhaenys quipped.

"Rhaenys!"

Her cousin laughed before climbing onto Meleys. Viseara mounted Nyx and watched as her nephews flew toward Winterfell and the Eyrie. With a firm command, she directed her dragon toward Storm’s End, fully aware of what awaited her there: Aemond and Vhagar.

The sky darkened, and the wind picked up as if heralding an impending storm. Viseara leapt from her dragon's back the moment her feet touched the ground. The roar of Vhagar echoed, warning her of what lay ahead. Steeling herself, she strode into the hall of Storm’s End, where One-Eyed Prince Aemond stood beside Lord Borros Baratheon and his four daughters.

Ignoring her nephew, she walked forward confidently, reading the letter in her hand aloud against the backdrop of thunder and rain.

Lord Borros eyed Viseara with clear disdain, his memory vivid of the scandal involving her and her nephew. Yet, he refrained from voicing his contempt or acting against her, aware of her reputation on the battlefield and her status as Daemon Targaryen’s beloved sister.

“Which of my daughters will your nephew wed?” Borros demanded.

“My nephews are already betrothed,” Viseara replied coolly. “Not that I find your daughters unsuitable, but I abhor seeing women used as pawns in men’s political games—”

“And yet, you allowed your daughter to marry King Aegon.”

“My daughter has long loved Aegon, in case you didn’t know,” Viseara shot back, her tone laced with mockery. “And I can already guess you’re scheming to offer your daughters to him if anything happens to Lady Elia. Let me make it clear—dream on. As long as I breathe, your daughters will remain unmarried. Besides, my nephew has a taste for strong-willed women.”

Viseara tilted her head and laughed. “If you dare claim ignorance of Lady Jocelyn, I’d laugh louder. At least your father must have mentioned her. And lucky for you, it’s me standing here, not Daemon Targaryen—he’d turn this place into a second Harrenhal.”

“If you refuse our offer, so be it. But don’t come begging for mercy from my queen.”

As she turned to leave, she froze under Aemond’s gaze. Drawing her dagger, she threw it to the floor.

“Nyke dare ao naejot gūrogon issa laes. Aōha muñnykeā jorrāelagon se laes, daoriot ziry?” (I dare you to take my eye. Your mother needs the eye, doesn’t she?)

Aemond was momentarily stunned by her boldness.

“Skoriot iksos issa nephew? Nyke jorrāelagon zȳhon laes, daor aōhon.” (Where is my nephew? I need his eye, not yours.)

“Issi ao nykeēdrosa angry rūsīr zirȳla syt taking qrīdrughagon aōha laesi? Pār gūrogon issa laesi naejot issa nephew. Nyke sacrifice ziry syt ao yn keligon holding nykeā grudge against aōha nephew.” (Are you still angry with him for taking away your eye? Then take my eye instead. I sacrifice it for you, but stop holding a grudge against your nephew.)

She picked up the dagger and pressed its hilt into Aemond’s hand. “Gūrogon ziry. Nyke dare ao.” (Take it. I dare you.)

Aemond shouted, “Daor!” (No!)

Breathing heavily, Viseara shook her head and retrieved the dagger. Turning to Lord Borros, she said, “I bid you farewell and thank you for the most hospitable welcome.” She offered a mocking bow before striding out of the hall.

“Viseara!”

“You shouldn’t address your aunt by her full name, nephew,” she retorted, turning to face him. “You and your bride suit each other well—ha!” A pang of emotion struck her unexpectedly. What was she beginning to feel for this man?

Aemond’s lilac eye widened as he shook his head. “I’ve been clear with you, Viseara—have you not heard me?”

“Heard you say what—?”

Thud!

Viseara felt a sharp pain as a blade pierced through her chest, the weapon striking from behind before being pulled out. Crimson spilled from the wound, mixing with the rain-soaked ground. Aemond rushed forward to catch her, pressing his hands against the wound. His eye turned to the knight lowering his bloodied sword.

“Ser Criston...”

“I’m sorry, my prince, but the Hand commanded her death,” Criston said coldly.

Rage ignited within Aemond as he lunged at the white-cloaked knight, pummeling him until his face was a bloody mess. He stopped only when he noticed Viseara’s breaths weakening. Her expression revealed a hint of disappointment—did she believe he was involved?

“Viseara... I didn’t know,” he pleaded, holding her close. He saw her trembling hand rest on her abdomen, her pale lips forming a single word.

“Baby...”

“You’re with baby?”

Before he could say more, Nyx’s furious roar echoed through the storm, the dragon’s eyes blazing with wrath. It crouched low, nudging Viseara’s lifeless form before lifting her with its claws and taking off into the stormy sky.

Aemond watched helplessly as the grey-and-blue beast disappeared. His jaw tightened as he turned to the bloodied knight.

“I won’t kill you, Ser Criston,” he said icily. “But you’ll beg her brother for mercy yourself—as her murderer.”

He bound Criston Cole and mounted Vhagar, commanding the dragon to carry them to Dragonstone. For Viseara, Aemond was ready to kneel before Rhaenyra.

Daemon struggled to hold back his tears as a raven delivered a message from Lord Baratheon, accusing Prince Aemond Targaryen of being involved in the murder of Princess Viseara Targaryen at Storm's End. Overwhelmed with rage and grief, the rogue prince swept everything off the table in a fit of anger, causing the soldiers and servants nearby to avoid him in fear. Rhaenyra decided to intervene, stepping in to calm her husband before he could destroy any more of the room's furnishings.

Rhaenys stayed silent as she observed Viseara’s children, who stood nearby with puzzled expressions, unsure why their uncle had suddenly lost his composure after reading the letter. Rhaenys couldn’t believe that their maternal family had allowed a dragonrider to be killed in their own castle—especially someone she had cherished as the sister she never had. Before their grief could fully set in, the sound of a dragon's roar echoed through the air, drawing Daemon’s attention to the window, where he saw a massive dragon approaching Dragonstone.

Daemon's face twisted in fury as he recognized the approaching dragon, Vhagar. Grabbing his helmet from the table, he stormed out toward the dragon pit, determined to mount Caraxes and confront the one-eyed prince along with his ancient dragon. Aenys, following closely behind, prepared to mount the dragon he had recently bonded with.

Vhagar dropped Ser Criston Cole’s battered body onto the beach before the Queen’s Guard, who rushed out to seize him immediately. Meanwhile, Daemon and Aemond faced each other from atop their respective dragons, their mounts snarling and roaring in challenge. The rogue prince’s voice was laced with venom as he addressed his nephew.

“You killed my sister! I will slay you and your decrepit beast!” Daemon roared, his tear-streaked face filled with anguish. “You’ve stolen the last memory I had of my mother!”

Aemond shouted back, his voice trembling with emotion. “I did not want to kill her! I swear by the Seven gods I had no part in this!”

“You liar!” Daemon spat, his voice dripping with disdain. “You’re as deceitful as that leech of a Hightower. I’ll send your head to that green queen. Any last words?”

A deafening roar interrupted their exchange, forcing both dragons to pause. The shadow of an enormous beast loomed over them—Vermithor, the Bronze Fury.

“Uncle! Cousin! Stop this madness!” Aenys called out, panting as he struggled to steady himself. “Hold your blades for a moment!”

Daemon’s eyes narrowed as he addressed his nephew. “Aenys, you’ve bonded with Vermithor?”

“That doesn’t matter right now, Uncle. Let’s hear him out first.” The Celtigar youth stroked Vermithor’s neck, calming the beast before dismounting. Now on the beach, the three Dragonriders faced each other. Aenys, his golden-brown hair damp from sweat, turned to Aemond.

“What happened? Explain yourself.”

“Ser Criston Cole acted on orders from my grandsire to kill your mother,” Aemond confessed, his voice heavy with guilt. “I failed to protect her and…”

“And what, Aemond?” Aenys pressed, his sea-blue eyes sharp with intensity. “Say it.”

“Your mother… she was with child.”

“What did you say?!”

Both Daemon and Aenys stood frozen, stunned by Aemond’s revelation.

Viseara once again witnessed her death at Rook’s Rest, as if fate sought to remind her of the mission that had brought her back to this time before the Dance of the Dragons erupted. However, this time, the rogue princess saw something new—something she had not observed in the moments after her body and dragon struck the ground, shattering upon impact. Through her mismatched eyes, she saw Aemond leap from Vhagar and rush to embrace her lifeless form.

The one-eyed prince wept silently; his strong face buried in the curve of her broken, twisted neck. His muffled sobs carried words she could not decipher.

So that’s why his embrace felt familiar, she realized.

But she was dead, which meant her mission had failed. She had failed to stop the Dance of the Dragons. As despair overtook her, Viseara found herself standing before her parents and older brother. They stood across from her, shouting something she couldn’t understand. Moments later, she felt a firm hand cup her face.

“You must go back, Viseara! You cannot die yet!” bellowed Baelon the Brave, her father, his voice as commanding as ever.

“Viseara, my dearest daughter, return to where you came from, now!” pleaded Alyssa. “Please, my love, you still have time.”

Viserys, now appearing whole and strong, nothing like his frail self in his final days, stepped forward and spoke. “Follow the light, my sister. Do not look back. Keep moving forward and do not stop.”

The three of them pushed her forward into an empty expanse. A moment later, it felt as though she was drowning. Flailing desperately, Viseara clawed her way upward, trying to escape the unknown force pulling her under. Her slender hand reached out toward a glimmer of light, grasping for it as if it could save her.

Then, everything turned blindingly bright, so intense that she could barely see.

TBC.

#house of the dragon #hotd #hotd fanfic #aemond targaryen x oc #prince aemond #aemond one eye #aemond fanfiction #house of the dragon fanfic #aemond x oc fic #aemond x oc #hotd angst

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