#rival sons translation

[hua-fei-hua]

i think the main reason translating jp is a lot more tiring for me is bc SOME OF THESE PEOPLE are not using a lot of kanji and so i have a hard time separating the hiragana out into units of meaning

[rxmye]

" 𝐌𝐘 𝐌𝐔𝐒𝐄 "

𝐘𝐀𝐍𝐃𝐄𝐑𝐄!𝐀𝐑𝐓𝐈𝐒𝐓 𝐗 𝐑𝐄𝐀𝐃𝐄𝐑 — For so long, he found art in his surroundings, nature was his muse . . who would've thought that he'd be able to find another muse, within you.

gender neutral reader / yandere oc x reader / obsessive / unhealthy themes / I guess the reader is his 'hater' / perfectionist yandere / kind of egotistic yandere / he has a praise kink frfr / maybe a bit self centered . . / kind of unedited / also might appeal to ppl with a savior complex

masterlist | requesting rules | character info . . . a/n: I feel like Lore takes up a good chunk of this fic, but enjoy . . also might be one of my longest fics . .

He was a calming presence, and a thoughtful friend to all he called his own. Elegance took a human form, in Xavier Wilson—A beautiful work of art indeed . . Born presenting a talent that could rival many others in the industry.

From a young age, Xavier presented himself as a man of the arts, often drawing out vivid tapestries of his dreams or memories. He would often lose himself in the pages of his notebook, scribbling away with intricate drawings and stories, his mind was his own magnum opus.

However—people was never his strong suit. It left a bitter taste in his mouth, surely if he was as magnificent as those around him expressed, he'd most certainly be able to recreate the portraits of those around him?—But no, none of his portraits could compare to his various other works.

As he got a bit older, his mother decided to enroll him in classes that could help expand his talents, which ranged from various music lessons, theater (didn't end well), art history—etc . . .

Xavier let out a breathy sigh, staring at the keys of the grand piano absentmindedly—his gloved fingers gently glide over the keys, tired would be the best way to describe him as of right now—his professor had left an hour ago, yet Xavier couldn't find it in himself to move.

Truth be told, Xavier wasn't a fan of music, he preferred quiet solitude—and though he had long since gotten used to the sound of the piano, violin, and any of the other ridiculous instruments his mother was so keen on getting him to play—he still preferred the silence over all.

Over the course of time, Xavier disinterest towards music dimmed—Alongside his distaste towards instruments . . He figured the reason he disliked it so much was due to his inability to play as perfectly as his professor . . Xavier was a perfectionist, and anything he couldn't perfect was simply 'wrong' in his eyes, and as he reached his teen years, he accepted that fact wholeheartedly.

Xavier stood still, as his mother fixed his tie for him—he could do it himself but he let her enjoy this moment, she always disliked watching her son 'grow up so fast'—"are you nervous?", she asked softly, gently holding his hands, smiling so brightly.

'Am I nervous?—' he thought, clearly not. He felt calm, neutral even. It was his first big show, yet internally he knew that things would end well for him, he could feel it. He's always been lucky, in fact his father's nickname for him as a child was quite literally 'Puer aureus' which translated to 'the golden boy' from Latin.

He clicked his tongue, a common habit of his—especially when he wasn't being exactly truthful—he paused for a moment as if to think, then he smiled at his mother, "Just a bit, but I'll be fine" he spoke calmly, gently squeezing her hand to reassure her. "Don't worry, I've prepared well for this . . Haven't I?"

Praise, he adored praise, and that day he received quite a lot of it—not just from his parents, or acquaintances . . .—but crowds of people. Honestly, it stroked his ego, quite a bit . .

By seventeen years of age, Xavier's talent was known worldwide, his rise to fame quite massive and fast . . He had to attend class, while also hosting live performances and art galleries. (such a struggle, really . . .)

University admissions were coming around, and most of his friends had chosen what schools they plan on applying to—what path they plan on going into—what school they hope to go to the most, the conversation was an eye opener and yet it all felt so bitter.

Xavier tapped his pen on the table, zoning out from the conversation his friends were having . . only to zone back in when Neva spoke, "—so Xavier, have you decided where you'll be applying too . . ? I'm sure you'll get in."

He clicked his tongue in response, closing his eyes absentmindedly as he spoke, "To be honest, not really . . probably something arts related?", Xavier was about to speak up again but stopped himself, starring down at the table, a sigh escaping his lips.

"That seems like a waste of money", he looked up, starring at Oliver with questioning eyes, and Oliver quickly explained himself, "Art school is great and all—But it won't really make much of a difference for you, in fact the rules could restrict your talent . . It could be better for you to just try something new? You're good in school a degree outside of your comfort zone may be something good for you!"

He hated that his friend was right, he hated being wrong. He prided himself for always knowing what was best for himself and his abilities, and in a spur of pettiness he found himself taking art anyway, trying to prove his friend wrong . . even though he was well aware his intentions were pure in all ways.

Xavier had done well in his courses so far, and with his fame, he was breezing through classes—and yet, when the topics of portraits came up . . he found all that floating out the window.

None of the models they had for class, felt right—none of the art he did, felt authentic . . felt like himself, when it came to art, Xavier took everyone to paradise, his art felt like peace . . his art was calm . . his music was soft, lulling almost . .

Yet now, as he stared at his canvas, covered in mixed harsh colours, a vibrant mess of paint, his brushes wrecked, paint dripping from the easel . . It felt like anything but calm.

And that's when he dropped out, a question to his perfection would wreck the fragile image of himself he had created in his mind, a man so perfect and lucky in his own right a humbling experience like that was to never see the light of day.

Xavier found himself turning to something different, just like Oliver suggested, his alternatives were selective, yet he kept many paths open, Photography, fashion, and business were his top picks and things he found himself surprisingly enjoying . . Surely if he could paint and create melodies of such wonders, then he can stitch some fabric together, solve a few equations, and take a few photo's here and there just fine . . right?

A few years had past, and Xavier was now running his very own Luxury fashion line, he still hosted art galleries here and there, and composed music on the side, but his business took up most of his time.

But on his free days he'd turn to photography, taking pictures of things he sought comfort in . . and people, he'd often take pictures of unsuspecting people, pretty ones . . people not so pretty as well, just to try and recreate the life they had on a canvas . . yet somehow always failing to do so.

The moment Xavier found himself close, he'd reach a dead end . . and that destroyed him, internally.

Over the years, he accepted the small flaws in his behavior, and tried his best to reform them, presenting himself as the perfect public figure. He did go to therapy in the past, but when things started rising up, he quit entirely.

Xavier laid back on his office chair, and scrolled through his recent posts comment section, and as expected almost all of it was praise . . some of envy, but that only fueled his ego more . . Until he found a comment that set him off, "His art is so melancholy, it feels a bit sad . . His previous works were brighter, like more happy but now it kind of feels sad . . Like the life in his work isn't there anymore."

Xavier stared at the comment dumbfounded, never had he received that kind of feedback . . portraits he drew were indeed lifeless, but his other art was always regarded as lively, and that was what he always strived for . . Curious, and in a fit of rage . . he clicked on the commenters profile, and saw you.

You, you . . You were what he was looking for, his muse. So, full of life . . He scrolled through your page, and couldn't help but feel the urge to draw you, and paint you . . and paint you he did. . Because soon his entire studio was filled with pieces inspired by you . . so full of 'life' . . .

Yet at some point, he had reached the end of your posts, and it just wasn't enough . . he needed you . . He wanted your feedback, he craved your praise . . like no other, he wanted input . . he wanted to know if his work was truly still lifeless . . he wanted you.

After all, a artist isn't complete without his muse.

@ rxmye , do not repost, plagiarize, translate, or adapt my work/theme without prior permission and or confirmation.

[cynical-ghost]

DRIVING ME MAD

Paring: Charles Leclerc x Driver!reader

Genre: smau-social media, fluff, chaotic?

Warning(s): use of Yn, language, translated French.

Synopsis: Yn is a driver for redbull and has been dating her on track rival for a few years, she always posts compromising/entertaining photos of Charles on her instagram.

Ynforeal

Liked by charles_leclerc, yourbff, lilymhe and 789,765 others

Ynforeal Me watching Charles deep throat my ice cream before giving it to me acting like nothing happened😐

Tagged: charles_leclerc

Maxverstappen1 He is always throating ice cream 🙄

charles_leclerc I did not ‘deep throat’ your ice cream

Ynforeal I literally saw you and have photographic proof.

Charles_leclerc😒

Ynforeal You know what to do…

arthur_leclerc he always used to do this to mine and acted like nothing happened while half my ice-cream was gone!

Ynforeal Maman P, come get your son!!

charles_leclerc

Liked by Ynforeal, Maxverstappen1, scuderiaferrari and 897,672 others

charles_leclerc Flowers and dinner to make up for eating your ice cream❤️

Tagged:Ynforeal

User15 how was the food @/Ynforeal ??

Ynforeal surprisingly good 😊

charles_leclerc HEY!!

Ynforeal thank you for the dinner and flowers Charlie, you are no longer getting the silent treatment 💕

charles_leclerc 😁

Maxverstappen1 Am I going to have a new teammate due to food poisoning??

charles_leclerc Mate, come on!

Ynforeal you don’t have to worry, it was a very nice meal

Ynforeal

Liked by charles_leclerc, Maxverstappen1, yourbff and 879,564 others

Ynforeal not letting you forget lockdown 😊

Tagged: charles_leclerc

Maxverstappen1 banana 🍌

Ynforeal 🍌

Carlossainz55 🍌

charles_leclerc 🍌

Charles_leclerc You couldn’t have picked a better picture of me ?

Ynforeal no❤️

User15 THEY HAVE MATCHING BANANA SUITS!!!

User10 couples who banana together stay together

User12 Amen 🙏

Ynforeal posted a story

Seen by Maxverstappen1, landonorris, yourbff and 897,626 others

Charles_leclerc

Liked by Ynforeal, carlossainz55, arthur_leclerc and 786,985 others

Charles_leclerc We made it to Karting on time 👍

Tagged: Ynforeal

Ynforeal WE WERE 5 MINUTES LATE!!!

Charles_leclerc I don’t know what you are talking about….

Ynforeal 😒

[amuseoffyre]

I have pondered on this many a time before and came to the conclusion that the whole Find-the-Lady game that happened with the babies was God's misdirection to drop off the Messiah when no one was expecting it, with all eyes on the Antichrist. After all "of that day and hour knoweth no man, no, not the angels of heaven, but my Father only." (Matthew 24:36)

Let me lay out my brain logic:

Johnson is a name that comes from Son of John. John means "God is gracious". God-is-gracious-son. ("What was it he said that got everyone so upset?" "Be kind to one another")

The Christ part of Jesus Christ comes from the Greek word Christos which literally translates to anointed one. Anointing is generally done with oil. Grease is "a thick oily substance". So we have Anointed God-is-Gracious-son.

Jesus was famous for hoarding fishermen who became fishers of men and also for doing fishy miracles. Also Ichthus, a symbol still used in the church today, is a fish. Greasy Johnson won prizes for his fish.

The Antichrist was prophesied to be a rival to Christ - Greasy Johnson and the Johnsonites were rivals to the Antichrist and the Them.

Based on the Nativity stuff, Jesus was born via a human the first time around so it makes sense for the same to happen second time around (unlike Adam, as far as we know - Sister Mary asked and we never got an answer to it and he turned up in a basket)

From what I remember, when Neil and Terry mentioned the potential sequel, it was going to involve America. In the Nativity, Jesus and his family had to go back to the place where his human parents came from. If Greasy Johnson does a DNA test, it will lead him back to America and to Harriet Dowling.

[whosmarii]

Said you needed love.

ᯤ Started: 25/01/24.

ᯤ Finished:

Summary:

Tony loves his wife, Pepper. He loves his last daughter, Morgan. And he loves Peter like the son he never had. But you? his first born daughter, he doesn't even know your name.

tw: daddy issues (everything that this entail), no corrections yet.

*reader is fem. slow burn. Peter x reader. Kinda rivals to lovers.

Prologue.

You are a genius, you got that from him. You study from home, a teacher for each subject meticulousy selected by Tony to give you the best clases of the country. Not because he cares for you, but because you have to reach the expectations of the people. Imagine, the daughter of Tony Stark, aka Iron man, being an ordinary person.

You didn't need all the teachers, you were a genius because it was in your genes. That wasn't enought to meet your father expectations tho.

You did everything in your power to get a proud look (or at least a look) from your dad. You have the best grades, you learned two different languages in a time lapse of two months, you read five books of classic literature in three days, you knew how to play seven different instrument plus you knew how to sing, you were a professional ballet dancer, you knew aeronautical and chemical engineering, and the list could go on and on.

Nothing seems to satisfy him.

Sometimes, because Pepper have told him to or because he couldn't escape the situation, he would mumble a "congrats" or "yeah, good" while he kept working on whatever he was working. Not even looking at your direction.

You loved Morgan, she was probably the only person in your house that actually cared for you. And you were happy she didn't have to live the same horrible situation you did. But you couln't help the self-sabotaging feeling of jealousy that warmed you heart every time they were together. You didn't understand. What does she have that i dont? why can't i be enough like she is?

Pepper loves you, she tells you that recurrently. But she never did anything to get Tony to be a proper dad. It isn't her responsability but, she is your mother. She sees you suffer because of him and does nothing.

You live in a house with two adults and a five year old little girl, and the only person that treats you pretty...is the five year old. Therefore you love to spend time with the Avengers, they fill a space in your hearts that should be fill by your father. Especially Bruce, he is so fatherly loving, it warms your heart and put tears of joy in your eyes.

Having Bruce to care for you is so important that if he asks you to have sexual relationships with him you would say yes just to keep having his love. You would have sex with all the avengers man if that meant them loving you.

When you heard Tony tell Pepper about the arrival of a new Avenger of 15 years, your heart stoped. What if she is better than me? What if they love her more than they love me? what if-

Peter. That's the name your father said. It was a male. That was soothing. You usually didn't like boys of your age, but maybe this one was different.

You already know that Tony loves him. The way he talks about Peter is almost shivery. "Peter is a genius, that boy has a future." "He is a good boy. Sweet and all" And that aunt of his... such a display" "The Avengers are going to love him".

Now the soothing feeling is gone and the fear is back.

He sounded good. That was bad.

You can't hate someone good. But you can't like him neither.

He wasn't presented to the Avengers yet. You didn't know how he looked yet. But the boy was already tearing apart the only part of your life that wasn't crumbling.

@whosmarii | Please do not copy, rewrite or translate my work without asking me and reciving my approval first. Thank you!

[whatdoeseverybodywant]

Rebuild & Restore - Chapter 11

I do NOT give permission for my work to be translated or reposted on here or any other site, even if you give me credit. DO NOT REPOST MY FICS

Reblogs, comments, likes, and feedback ALWAYS appreciated ❤ 

All OC Characters belong to me

All Falls Down (Prequel)

Series Masterlist

@paigereeder thank you for all your help sis! you da goat!!! ❤️🫶🏽

Wednesday Morning

“This is fucking nuts” Kiyana muttered as she placed her head in her hands. Her house was in absolute chaos this morning. Kairo was teething so he was grumpier than normal and Kamari and Kaiden were upset that their dad wasn’t there.  Since Josh was getting more popular within the WWE Universe, he was starting to get requested to do more WWE Live tours.   He had left Monday night for the UK while he did tell the boys that he wouldn’t be home until Friday, it must’ve slipped their tiny minds. 

Kamari and Kaiden  had rushed down the stairs after brushing their teeth only to find the downstairs guest bedroom empty. Kiyna watched with bated breath as their little feet ran into the kitchen, their little faces scrunched up in confusion, looking exactly like carbon copies of their father. Kamari looked towards the glass sliding doors, his eyes widening as if he had a eureka moment and dashed towards the door, pushing the curtain out the way only to let out a sigh of frustration as he saw the backyard was empty too. Kamari then turned and looked at Kiyana. 

“Where’s my dad?” He muttered and he walked over to the table to sit down next to his baby brother, who was in the high chair starting to get fussy again as he chewed on his hand..” Kiyana sighed and grabbed both of their plates off the kitchen counter and brought it over to the table. Once she sat the plates down Kaiden, who had been sulkily looking out of the glass  door, came over and sat down so he could eat. 

“He’s still on the road, Bean.” Kiyana said softly. 

“What! Who's gonna take me to school?”   Kamari, dropped his fork and folded his arms over his chest with a scowl that could rival his fathers. While Kamari was sulking, Kaiden started to cry. Kaiden’s crying was like a domino effect. Kaiden’s crying had triggered Kairo and he started wailing, reaching his arms out for his momma and while Kamari was usually her tough child, she even saw a couple of tears slip down his cheeks.

Kiyana sighed before scooping Kairo out of his highchair and grabbing one of her dining room chairs and moving it between her two older boys and pulling them into her lap comfortably. She quickly pulled out her phone and sent a quick text to Josh who responded almost immediately. 

To -  Boys Dad: Hey, are you busy?  From - Boys Dad: For you never  Incoming FaceTime Call from BOYS DAD 

Kiyana answered and the smile that was on Josh’s face quickly dropped. “Aye, what's with all the tears?” All three boys immediately looked towards the phone at the sound of their dads voice. “Wassup y’all?” 

“Who's gonna take me to school?” Kamari repeated his question from earlier, taking the phone out of Kiyana’s hand and holding it himself. 

“Grandma’ is coming to take you. We had this conversation Monday night, Bean. remember at dinner?”  Josh let out a sigh when his sons continued to cry. “I’m sorry. I’ll be home Friday night okay.”  She watched as her boys' tear-streaked faces softened slightly upon hearing their dad's reassurance. “And we can do whatever y’all want to do. Y’all got me for three whole days before I have to leave again.” 

Kamari and Kaiden reluctantly nodded their heads, their crying had eased up. “Alright y’all finish breakfast before Grandma gets here.” Kiyana said softly, pressing a kiss on Kamari and Kaiden’s heads. The boys nodded and blew their dad kisses before getting off of their mothers lap and eating their -now cold pancakes. 

Kiyana took Kairo upstairs to get him dressed so he could go with her mother as well. She was still on the phone with Josh who bit his lip as he looked at her through the screen. “What?” She asked after placing Kairo in his crib with some toys so she could find him an outfit. She set the phone up to where as though she didn’t have to hold it. 

“I feel like shit now, Key.” His voice came through the phone. 

“I didn’t mean to make you feel like shit Josh.” She shot back defensively. “I just thought them seeing you would calm them down and it did.”  She grabbed Kairo a couple of outfits out of his closet and started packing his diaper bag. She heard Josh smack his teeth. 

“I’m not blaming you, Kiyana damn. I'm just saying I feel like shit because I know they’re used to seeing me there on Wednesdays.” Kiyana sighed and picked up Kairo and brought him over to the changing table so she could start getting him dressed. “I miss them like crazy.” 

“They miss you too..” 

“What about you? Do you miss me?”  Kiyana sighed and tried to fight the smile from coming on her face. Something happened between them on Monday night. She didn’t know if it was just her emotions running on high or the fact that she actually missed him but she actually initiated the kiss between them. She was the one to pull him closer to her and he was the one who stopped it from going to far.

“You alright?” Josh asked her as he walked into the kitchen, his eyes dropping down to her ass that was encased in a pair of tight black biker shorts.  Kiyana nodded as she finished loading the dishwasher.

“Yeah, I'm just exhausted. The boys sleeping?” 

“Yeah, they rocked.” He laughed and walked closer to her leaning his hip against the counter so he was facing her. “You not mad at me right?” 

“No, I'm not mad at you. I’m just..” She sighed and shrugged, “I just don’t wanna lose my job over this.” She whispered and Josh nodded, now feeling guilty for losing his temper earlier. 

“He put his hands on you Kiyana. He needed to be dealt with.” Kiyana felt the tear slip down her face and before she could wipe it away, Josh stepped closer to her and cupped her cheeks in his hands, wiping away her tears with his thumbs. “I’m sorry.” 

"I know," she murmured, her voice barely above a whisper. "I just... I never wanted you to get involved."

Josh shook his head gently, his eyes locked on hers. "Kiyana, divorced or not, you're still important to me. And I wasn't about to let that bitch put his hands on you.” Kiyana sucked in a deep breath and she stood there, staring into Josh’s eyes. Josh’s eyes dropped down to her lips. 

Kiyana felt her heart rate spike and before she knew it, she was leaning up on her tippy toes connecting her lips to his. Kiyana and Josh both moaned into the kiss as it deepened. Josh gripped the back of thighs and lifted her up, placing her on the counter without breaking their kiss. 

Josh’s hands roamed over Kiyana’s body, his touch sending shivers down her spine as she arched into him. Their kiss deepened even further, as she opened her legs wider and started to pull his shirt over his head. He broke the kiss so he could take his shirt off. 

“Wait,” He panted out as she pulled him back towards her. “Key, wait.” He muttered as she started kissing on his neck. “Key, fuck.” He muttered out as she moaned into his skin when she started to grind her hips against his erection. He placed his hands on her hips, using all of his strength to stop her from grinding on him. “I don’t want you to regret this when you wake up in the morning.” He grunted out as he pushed himself away from her. 

She nodded her head, her eyes glistening with a mix of desire and disappointment. She took a deep breath, steadying herself on the counter. "You're right," she whispered, closing her eyes. “I’m sorry.” 

“You aint got nothing to be sorry for Key.” He grabbed his shirt off the kitchen floor and put it back on before looking down at his watch and cursing. “Fuck, I gotta go finish packing.” She nodded and hopped off the counter and followed him to the front door.  “I’ll see you on Friday okay.” 

“Key, you still with me?” She jumped as she heard Josh’s voice call out to her. As she looked over at the phone she could see the hickey that she left on his neck. “Kiyana?” 

“Yeah I'm still here.” She whispered, licking her lips. “And Yes, I do miss you.” 

“Good, because I miss you too.” 

Kiyana kept her head down as she went to the nurses station, ignoring the stares of her co-workers who had undoubtedly heard about the ass whooping Josh put on Elijah. 

“Don’t yall have work to do?” Debra asked, startling the two nurses who were staring at Kiyana and whispering back and forth with each other. “Go on, shoo.” She said, motioning them along with a roll of her eyes. “They acting like they never seen someone get their ass whooped before. How was your two days off?” 

Kiyana chucked and swiveled her chair so she was facing Debra. “It was cool.  Felt like old times again, just me and my boys.” 

“And Josh?” Debra asked, being her nosey self and Kiyana bit her lip and shrugged.  

“I mean he was there too. The boys wouldn’t let him leave.” Debra let out a ‘hmm’ and Kiyana furrowed her eyebrows. “What?” 

“I’m just saying, it was hella cute how he went after Dr. Daniels for you.” 

“Ms Deb…” Key trailed off with a roll of her eyes. 

“And Seeing y’all standing next to each other.” She whistled and flagged herself with her hand. “Y’all one hot couple.” 

“That got a divorce for a reason..” 

Debra raised an eyebrow, sensing Kiyana's discomfort. "I get it, I get it," she said, her voice softening. "But seriously though, it must've been nice having some time off with your boys. You needed that."

“Yeah I really did.” She whispered, biting her lip as another flash of her and Josh kissing popped in her head. 

Kiyana went through the rest of the day thinking about Josh; she had to stop herself from texting him about six different times. Instead she texted Samara who called her and literally laughed on the phone. Kiyana had hung up on her… she was not in the mood. 

As she walked back towards her station after her lunch break she was floored to see a beautiful bouquet waiting near where she normally sat. Debra gave her a teasing smile and nodded her head towards the card. Kiyana rolled her eyes and picked the card up, her heart hammering in her chest as she started to read it.

I can’t apologize enough for what I did to you, to us. But being with you the other day, I realized how much I fucked up and I hope you can find it in you to give me a chance to fix everything. Ps. sorry us Fatu men keep giving you a hard time.  Love Josh 

soooo.. what do you guys think? Y'all thonk Kiyana is gonna forgive him for the afffair? Or y'all think she just gone use him to get her rocks off lol?

❤ Reblogs, comments, likes, and feedback ALWAYS appreciated ❤ 

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[my-great-big-book-of-fan-fiction]

Barbarian King!Katsuki Bakugou x F!reader - oneshot about your husband standing up for you

This one is a little sporadic and a little short, but I hope you enjoy anyways!

words: >1000

warnings: sexism, slightly spicy ending, reader is AFAB and goes by she/her

As the new Queen of the barbarians, you faced a lot of hate for simply being at first. It was bad enough that you were the princess of their rival kingdom, Kalestia, but the people feared that you would weaken their newly crowned king, King Katsuki.

Now though, a year into your marriage, the people realized you were far better for them than they thought. You held no ties to your original homeland, seeing as your parents never cared for you as you were a daughter born after a son, and while it was true that Katsuki had a soft spot for you, treating you like the royalty you were, his usual battle lust never died down. In fact, it might have increased, given the fact that he now had you to protect and not just his kingdom. Best of all, you had convinced your rough and tough husband to attend the meetings between your allies, meetings that would be highly beneficial to the kingdom.

You both were actually at a meeting right now, Katsuki's arms crossed over his chest as he glowered, vermillion eyes scanning the room at the weaklings before him. It was all yapping, people going back and forth, stalemating on important issues. You sighed, knowing how Katsuki felt as you yourself were getting impatient, and finally decided to chime in.

"Alright, It would be in the best interest for all of us if we set aside money and focus on the betterment of the people."

Katsuki nodded in agreement, watching as the royal translators delivered the messages to these world leaders and looking at their faces. He had this proud look on his face, knowing his wife was smart, and awaited the other people's praises. To both of your surprises, though, everyone in the room laughed. You blinked a couple times, surprised as the predominantly male council all laughed with each other. At least you lightened the room.

Katsuki stood, hands resting on the table, muscled arms flexing. "You gotta problem with my fuckin' wife," he barked, effectively silencing the room. One incredibly brave man started laughing nervously, eyes flicking between Katsuki and yourself. "Wh-Well, You certainly can't expect us to take her-" he gestures at you with fat fingers, not even dignifying you with a glance- "seriously...?"

Katsuki was twitching, veins popping, eyes practically predatory, jaw clenched. The only thing that calmed him was your delicate hand on his forearm. He glanced at you, gaze softening slightly, before returning his attention to the asshole before him. "Talk about my wife like that again, and you'll be lucky to eat without a damn tube," he growled, bitterly sitting back down and looking around for anyone to oppose him. silence.

He nodded at you, returning the room to you. You sighed, straightening up. For the next 2 minutes you relayed all your thoughts on the current strife this council faced, restating problems, handing out solutions, and explaining details. Everyone nodded along quietly, like toddlers being scolded, and when it was time to vote on what to do, it was unanimously on your side.

Later that night, you were in your carriage back to Forrmidūl, the true name to what many called The Barbaric Lands. "Kat...thank you for standing up for me." Katsuki looked over to you, his hand squeezing yours a little tighter, and rolled his eyes. "That's the bare minimum, dumbass."

You laughed, leaning your head on his shoulder and breathing in the scent of rich musk and burnt caramel. "Yeah, But I still want to thank you." He released your hand and wrapped his arm around you, pulling you close to him as the carriage rattled beneath the two of you. "Whatever..." He grumbled, kissing your scalp. He was always like this, contradicting his words with his actions.

After a moment, he nuzzled his nose against your head and mumbled, "You were good today." His praises meant a lot, because he didn't give it out easily.

"I know," you giggled, proud of yourself. You could feel him smiling against your skin, he found it cute how excited you were.

"You know, I've been reading the townspeople's letters," you mentioned, your hand resting on his thigh. "yeah," he asked, fingers twiddling with the ends of your hair.

"uh huh..." you giggled, making him realize whatever you were about to say was going to have to sole purpose of teasing him. "So," he said, wanting you to get to the point already.

"It's weird, all they want is for us to produce an heir," you said in a flirtatious tone, looking up at him through your lashes. He groaned and rolled his eyes, however his face was red. He was trying his best not to be flustered, but damn it you were hot. The way your eyes sparkled, you lips plump and ready for kissing, and you cheeks slightly warm at your own flirting.

"Yeah? That is weird," he scoffed, not wanting to give in to your temptations just yet. That said, his hand slid to your waist, just above your hips.

"sooo...what do you think about that?" And just like that, the power was shifted. He grinned, you should have been more patient. He leaned down, his mouth right next to your ear. "I think that you want a baby," he taunted, one hand sliding to your thigh while the other ran through your hair.

"what makes you think that," you sighed, a little breathless with how he figuratively swept you off your feet. He grinned, licking his lips like a predator preparing to eat his prey, the hand on your thigh sliding up to toy with the neckline of your dress. "Need me to show you?" His eyes were locked on your breasts, a calloused hand ripping at the delicate fabric to view them in all their beauty.

Sex was a lot easier in a moving carriage than either of you thought, even on the bumpy country roads, and while the driver never heard you, they certainly noticed when you walked out with a shredded dress.

I know this one lowkey sucked, but while writing I was hit by a train of other ideas and this fic suffered because of it. Hope you liked it anyways, and as always leave a comment if you want more!

[peanutpinet]

haii! I saw that you request is open. i want to request with mafia!jaehyun x wife!reader. Jaehyun and your brother (johnny) are known have died, killed by their rivals. unknowingly you're having a child years later, and when the other group saw, they wanted to kill both of you.

suprisingly, you were saved by nct and you mad at them being shadows and hide themselves from you for years especially jaehyun and johnny. so, (especially) jaehyun and the others regaining your trust back and want to be a dad in your child live, you're slowly trust him and others again (maybe there's an incident or something that jaehyun almost being killed cause he saved you and/or child(?)). thank you

Back For You - Mafia! Jaehyun x Wife! Fem Reader (ft Older Brother Johnny)

HAPPY 2024 EVERYONE!! I HOPE THAT EVERYONE HAD A GREAT JANUARY (jokes on me for saying happy new year but posting this at the end of January) I'M SO SORRY FOR BEING MIA BUT I was away for a 2-week holiday which took a lot out of me. Don't worry, I've tried to write a bit and while this isn't my best writing since I'm still trying things, I hope that the anon who requested this and those who are reading will still enjoy it!! Manifesting a better year for everyone!!

A/N: hi anon, thank you for requesting, it means a lot that you like my writing :(( coincidentally, I have been reading a few nct fics about the reader having the neos’ child but the neo never knew that they had a child. I do want to point out that this specific mafia story won’t be included in the mini mafia universe that I’ve made as the timeline doesn’t really match but I will make another Jaehyun mafia fic in the same mafia universe that I’ve created!

Also, to the anon who requested the Johnny & TY mafia, Jisung mafia, thank you guys for being patient but I am going through my requests (actually shocked I have several of requests because I didn't think my writing would be enjoyable without a smut sometimes). Also, also! TY's girl is making an appearance in the next two mafia fics and her name is Kim Eunji because I used this name for my translated version of TY's first mafia fic over on my Wattpad. Okay, onto the story!

Warnings: suggestive, angst, mentions of pregnancy and child birth, gunshots, blood, lil fluff

It took 5 years of trying to heal yourself from your loss. 5 years to finally be able to accept that it was now just you and your son, Yuno together. 5 years since your husband and brother, Jaehyun and Johnny respectively were reported to have died in a car accident. But those 5 years of acceptance and peace were soon ripped in a matter of seconds.

You were just picking up your son from daycare who was one of the last kids there because you had to finish your shift but when you had just arrived, you saw several black SUVs that came from around the corner.

At first you didn’t think much about it because you have never been associated with anything illegal nor have you done anything wrong in your life.

But right when you picked up your son and headed out, there were several men who came out of the SUVs and stopped in front of you and your son.

Instinctively, you held your son tighter to you as one of the men came towards you, mentioning a name that you have not heard in the past 5 years of your life.

“Are you Jung (Y/N), wife of Jung Jaehyun and younger sister of Johnny Suh?” one of the men questioned which made you wrap your arms around your son, your motherly instinct moved him behind you

“And who are you to ask?” you hissed but the man just chuckled until you noticed the other men surrounding you and your son

“We’d just like to ask you several questions about your husband and older brother. So if you would come with us and have a little chat…” the man mentioned, looking at your son. “We wouldn’t want the kid to see something that he wouldn’t want to see, now would we?”

“Mommy…” your son called out to you but you wouldn’t let him come out from behind you

“I don’t know how you know my name, my deceased brother and husband’s name but as far as I know, none of us have any association with people like you. And plus, like I’ve mentioned, my brother and husband are both dead. If there were any debts that they may have, their lawyer would’ve said something to me years ago” you tried your best to sound brave but in reality you feared what may happen to you and your son; especially when some of the men came closer

“You should come while we’re being civil” the man scoffed as he commanded the other men to take out some of their weapons as you shielded your son from the scene he might witness

But somehow, as if your husband has been protecting you even before your marriage, there were other men who came and took down all the men that were surrounding you before they could even do anything to you or your son.

Amongst the men who helped you, there was one with white/silver hair and black tint underneath. He walked past everyone and stood in front of you, his eyes was big but his eyebrows made him have a more strict look.

What he did next was what you didn’t expect. The man kneeled to your son’s level and even called him by his name. “Hey, you must be scared, aren’t you? I’m Taeyong. You can call me uncle Tae. I know your father very well. You have his dimples and eyes but have your mom’s smile. You’re a brave boy like your dad”

“You know Jaehyun?” You asked as Taeyong looked at you, his eyes turned soft and even looked like he was sorry when he stood back up to face you

“I think he and Johnny should be the one to tell you everything. I have no right to get in between family business” Taeyong mentioned while you stood in shock

“W-what do you mean that he and Johnny…” you stuttered but Taeyong continued before you got to finish your sentence. “They’re alive. Both of them. We found them 5 years ago, barely breathing and they were both in a coma for almost a whole year but enough of that, how about I…”

“How do I know that you’re not using them to get to me or something? For all I know you could be working with those people from before or something” you questioned, making Taeyong sigh until you heard the very voices that you thought you would never hear ever again

“(Y/N)!!!” You heard Jaehyun shout and turning around, you saw Jaehyun, your husband and Johnny, your older brother; both of whom you thought were dead were now in front of you

“H-hey, hey” Jaehyun came and held you in his arms, pulling you to his chest as you sobbed whereas Johnny came to hug his nephew

“Sssh, I’m here. I’m so sorry. I’m alive. We’re alive” Jaehyun tried to calm you down but you broke down even more and hit his chest, pushing him away as your tears covered your vision

“How could you! Both of you!!” You screamed at both men who lied to you for the past 5 years. Both men whom you cherished close to you and mourned hard when you heard about their car crash and no bodies were found 5 years ago

“I cried for both of you. I mourned you both. I had to go through pregnancy and birth on my own. I did everything alone for the past 5 years. Y-you both don’t get to just waltz back in as if nothing happened” you cried, even falling to the ground as your son rush to your side, hugging you

“Sweetheart. Little flower” both Jaehyun and Johnny said at the same time, both coming closer but your son stood in front of you

“H-hey lil peach…” Jaehyun uttered, about to kneel down to your son’s height but just like Jaehyun, your son was overly protective of you ever since he was just 2 years old

“Go away” your son shouted as you tried to calm him but he kept on going. “Don’t make my mom cry”

“Lil peach, I’m not gonna…” Jaehyun tried to reach out to his own son but he was rejected. “No!!”

“You made my mom cry! I don’t want mommy to cry anymore!” Your son shouted but you quickly hugged him, calming him down. “Hey, hey. Jeong Yuno, what did mommy teach you?” you mentioned your son’s name, making Jaehyun tear up a bit because you named your son after his name

“Don’t shout at anyone. Don’t shout to your elders, okay? Especially your dad and uncle” you stroke your son’s head who looks at you with the same worried eyes as Jaehyun’s

“I don’t want you to cry anymore mommy. I don’t want you to get hurt. I don’t mommy sad. I want mommy happy” your son mentioned, making both Jaehyun and Johnny’s hearts clench

“Mommy’s not sad. Don’t worry, mommy’s okay” you cooed your son, hugging him close to you as you lift him up

“(Y/n)…” Jaehyun uttered, trying to reach for both you and your son

“Don’t…I, I can’t deal with this. I want to go home” you mentioned, your voice was clearly tired

“It’s not safe for you to go back home” Jaehyun mentioned. “Then where am I supposed to go Jaehyun?!” You argued back, Jaehyun clenching his fists

“We’ll take you back somewhere safe. Somewhere no one can find nor touch either of you. Somewhere I should’ve brought you to a long time ago” Jaehyun mentioned, directing to you one of the cars

“Little flower…” Johnny breathed but you walked past him, carrying your son tightly and protectively in your arms

“Know that I’m only going with you guys for my son’s safety and not because I’ve forgiven either of you just yet” you uttered, going into the car as Taeyong closed it before it went off

“Get some rest. Both of you. You can talk to her tomorrow” Taeyong mentioned, heading to his own car

“Hyung!” Jaehyun called out to Taeyong

“I told you that you both that you should’ve gone back to her back then. I kept my side of the promise and took care of her when you both went on that mission. But you broke your side of the promise to go back to her” Taeyong stated, looking at his two members

“I understand during the first year because you both were brutally injured from the accident but afterwards?” Taeyong reminded. “I don’t mean to butt into your family business but if either of you forgot, your wife and sister was pregnant and about to give birth when you guys were already awake from your coma. Regardless of your reasoning, both of you should’ve gone back to her. Losing two of your loved ones during pregnancy and birth is not easy and the fact that she went through all of that alone makes me respect her so much”

“I suggest you both discuss on your own. I can only do so much by ensuring her safety. You both already lost the past 5 years with her. Don’t lose her as well” Taeyong advised

Throughout the ride back to NCT’s penthouse, both Jaehyun and Johnny discussed how they were going to try and approach you. Johnny saying that he wants to approach you first because he is your only related family member left and he wants to make sure that you know he will always take care of you somehow.

But Jaehyun wanted the three of you to just sit down and talk so none of you misunderstood one another. Both Jaehyun and Johnny kept debating until they reached the room that Taeyong provided for you and your son.

Softly, Jaehyun knocked on the door, worried that he might accidentally wake you and your son but luckily you were still awake and answered the door.

Upon opening the door and seeing Jaehyun and Johnny, your first instinct was to shut it close but knowing both your husband and brother, you might as well talk it out with them and get it over with.

“What do you guys want?” you questioned, your voice coming out strong and rough, your eyes and nose were still red from all the crying

“Can we talk? The three of us. We owe you a full explanation about what happened and everything” Johnny mentioned, hoping that you’d give him and Jaehyun a chance to explain for themselves

“Not in here. I just put Yuno to sleep. He wouldn’t sleep until I fall asleep” you replied and hearing your reply, Jaehyun wanted to hug you and let you know that he never meant to leave you alone but he restrained himself until you finally accepted his apology and allowed him to be back in both you and your son’s life

“Let’s go next door then, it’s my room” Johnny suggested and you nodded in agreement

You came to find out that your room was situated between Johnny and Jaehyun’s room with Johnny being right next door and Jaehyun across your room.

Inside Johnny’s penthouse, you were welcomed with the modern but minimalistic interior with several additions of rare collectables which you knew your brother had been very fond of since young. You took in his entire place until you saw several framed pictures of him, Jaehyun, some of their other friends and even with you framed in the center amongst the other pictures.

“Do you still like your tea with 90% milk and sugar?” Johnny asked, already at the pantry, brewing up your favourite tea for you

“Yea, I can’t have too much caffeine during the night anyways” you replied, accepting the tea from your brother

“So, you guys going to explain yourselves on leaving me for the past 5 years?” you questioned, looking down at your husband and brother who sat across you

To say you were speechless was definitely an understatement because as much as you tried to understand their point of views, you became angrier than before. Ever since your brother was in high school, he had already been in the mafia and as for your husband, Jaehyun officially became apart of it when he almost graduated high school.

Not only were they able to keep this secret life from you for the past 10+ years, but the fact they also hide themselves for the past 5 years all because they were scared to face you when they were still injured just didn’t make sense to you.

“What the fuck do you mean that you were scared to face me?!” you shouted, standing up from the sofa, angry at both your brother and husband

“Flower, we wanted to back to you, I swear. We were just caught up with other things…” Johnny tried to reason. “We were both badly injured and barely able to process anything…”

“But you got back up. You could’ve come to me. Your friends could’ve said something. I want to understand you but I can’t. Do you know how hard it was when I found out I was pregnant but before I could tell either of you, I saw your car crash on the news. I almost lost my baby. I almost lost my son that day too if it weren’t for your mom coming over to visit me early in the morning” you rambled on, making both Johnny and Jaehyun even more guilty

“Does your mom even know, Jaehyun?” you asked but received no answer from him

“I’m leaving” you let out which made both Johnny and Jaehyun immediately stood up, blocking your way

“I mean I’m leaving this room and going back to see my son. I can’t be in the same room with either of you right now” I pointed out, about to head to the door but a hand grabbed my wrist and from the touch, I knew that it was Jaehyun

“(y/n)…dimple…” Jaehyun let out that nickname he used to call me those years ago

The nickname that he gave me because he would always mention how he consider me as his dimple because his dimple is a part of him and he would always consider me as a part of him. I believed it, until he disappeared and reappeared back.

“Don’t call me that, Jeong” I hissed back, tears were threatening to spill again

“I swear I wanted to come back to you. Both me and Johnny. Me especially. I know what we did was horrible towards you and I’m not asking you to forgive and accept us back immediately but I just hope…” Jaehyun sighed. “I hope that you would at least let me into Yuno’s life. Let me be the father and husband I should’ve been all those years that I was gone”

Immediately, you ripped your arm away from Jaehyun and looked at him with anger and frustration. “You both got badly injured during and needed a year to fully recover fine. Your friends/members not coming to tell me anything about you because it’s classified, fined. But not telling your own mother and letting her, me and our son to believe that you were dead is beyond me. I don’t need words, Jeong. Neither does Yuno. All we wanted was for you to be there but you weren’t. You’re basically 5 years too late”

“I know” Jaehyun let out a shaky breath. “I, we, didn’t mean to lie to you and not come back sooner. We wanted to tell you but we were just waiting for the right time because we wanted to protect you long enough until we weren’t heavily involved anymore”

“Protect? Protecting me from those who were against you or protecting yourself from what might happen if you had told me before you disappeared?” you sighed

“You know what hurts more? Not when I lost both of you and almost lost Yuno that day. But the fact that I can’t hate either of you. I want to hate you both but I can’t. Because I know what it feels like growing up without a parent figure. I tried so hard to be that parent figure for Yuno but I could never replace his dad” you said, making Jaehyun more hopeful

“Don’t think that I’ve forgiven either one of you just yet. But I’m not as cruel as you to not see Yuno or try to be the father and uncle he should’ve had since he was born” you opened the door, ready to go back to your son. “I’m saying that you both can try your best to come back to our lives, but I can’t guarantee that either one of us would accept you. You might be the father Jaehyun but I was the one that took care of him the past 5 years and from what you’ve seen, our son doesn’t even consider you his dad even when I’ve told him and showed him pictures of you. Good night, Jaehyun, Johnny”

You left both men to the quiet and chill room with the loud noise of their own thoughts and guilt.

Despite leaving both Jaehyun and Johnny on a bad note, the two accepted your anger and instead, hearing you let out your own emotion fueled them to try their best to do whatever it took to get both you and Yuno’s apology.

The next morning, right when you were about to leave and bring Yuno to daycare, both Jaehyun and Johnny were right in front of your door as you came out with your son.

“Geezus, can you guys not this early in the morning?!” you sighed as your son gripped your hand tighter

“Sorry. We didn’t want to disturb your morning so we waited out here. But we got some breakfast sandwiches for both of you and caramel latte for you” Jaehyun mentioned, handing you the bag which you accepted

“Thanks. If there isn’t anything else, I really need to go and take Yuno to daycare and I also need to go to work” you mentioned, about to walk past both men but they stopped you before you could take another step

“What is it this time?” you asked, raising your eyebrow

“Sorry lil sis, I don’t think you should be going to work anymore” Johnny said, making you scoff. “You might be my older brother but you don’t have the rights to tell me what I can or cannot do”

“Johnny’s right (y/n). Those men the other day know who you are. It would only take time before other people would find you or Yuno and neither me nor Johnny wants that to happen again” Jaehyun replied, looking at you with those damn worried eyes

“If I don’t work then how am I supposed to afford a living?” you argued, challenging both Johnny and Jaehyun

“We’re both here now. We’ll fund everything. Especially me. I’m going to fun for both you and Yuno. I want to be the father that Yuno deserves to have. You can push me or Johnny away as much as you want but we will still try to squeeze ourselves back into both of your lives” Jaehyun mentioned and hearing his tone, you know how stubborn Jaehyun is going to be

Sighing, you agreed to not go to work and let your boss know that you have to quit so suddenly because of a family issue.

“Fine. I won’t go to work. But I’m not going to let my…”

“Our son” Jaehyun mentioned, making you roll your eyes. “Our son not go to school” you finished your sentence while Jaehyun kneeled down to Yuno’s height

“Of course not. I’ll take him to school and wait until his school ends” Jaehyun mentioned, smiling at Yuno, his dimples showing

But when Jaehyun took his hand out, trying to convince Yuno to come with him, Yuno shook his head. “No. I want to go with mommy”

“Lil peach…your mommy and uncle need to have a chat and I want to get to know you more” Jaehyun tried to convince him but Yuno stood his ground, gripping onto your leg

“Hey, hey lil bud” you mumbled, kneeling to your son’s height, holding his small hands in yours. “What did mommy tell you before?”

“Give daddy a chance” both you and Yuno said at the same time, making Jaehyun want to tear up knowing that despite what he did, you still taught your son to give him a chance

“That’s right lil bud. What happened to mommy shouldn’t be the reason for you to not give your daddy a chance. Also, it’s a good way to know if he’s actually making an effort. Plus, mommy needs to talk to uncle Johnny, okay? When you come back, mommy is going to make your favourite food, braised beef with toppokki” you mentioned, Jaehyun almost choked on his saliva hearing his son’s favourite food being the same as his

“Okay mommy” Yuno mumbled, looking over at Jaehyun who still offered his hand and slowly grabbed it

“I promise that I’ll keep him safe” Jaehyun mentioned, standing back up, softly holding his son’s hand

“On scratch on his body or any drop of blood, I will end you, Jeong” you threatened, kissing your son’s cheek as he kissed yours before letting Jaehyun take your son to daycare

Jaehyun’s POV

On the way down to my car, Yuno didn’t say a word and even when we were in the elevator, out of (y/n) and Johnny’s sight, Yuno let go of my hand which confused me.

“Lil peach…” I let out but Yuno’s reply shocked me. “Yuno. That’s my name. Not lil peach. Only mommy gets to call me other names”

“Okay, Yuno. Can you tell me why you let go of my hand?” I asked as the elevator opened to the car park and I directed him to my car

“Because even though mommy says you’re my daddy, you’re not” Yuno mentioned, getting into the car without my help

After closing the door to Yuno’s side, I went into mine and saw that he already put his seatbelt on his own. “Damn, this kid is too smart for a 5-year-old,” I thought to myself as I drove off

“Why would you say that I’m not your daddy?” I asked

“Because you hurt mommy. You made mommy cry” Yuno mentioned. “You might be my daddy but if you hurt mommy, you’re not my daddy. Wait until I grow up and I will be the only guy that mommy needs”

“You should know that without me, you wouldn’t exist. You can try all you want but I will win your mom back and then let’s see who the guy will come out on top” I scoffed, disbelieved at my own son’s words to me

“You can try but you’re no one to mommy. You’re not related by blood unlike me. You don’t know mommy like I do. You don’t know how hard mommy tries to be strong to take care of me. You don’t know that mommy likes to talk about you. You don’t know that mommy talks nice things about you but to me, you still hurt mommy. Especially when you came back” Yuno mentioned, making me grip the steering wheel harder

“H-Has your mommy been seeing someone else? Another guy?” I asked, being selfish and hoping that (y/n) hadn’t seen anyone else

“No. Though lots of guys have been trying to talk to her but when I ask mommy, she always mentions you” Yuno admitted, making me sigh with relief

“I won’t leave you both again. Especially your mom. I love her so much that I want to come back and take care of her. And you” I mentioned, parking by the daycare, looking at Yuno

“Why are you looking at me?” Yuno asked

“Because I need your help” I mentioned

Your apartment - Your POV

After Jaehyun left with Yuno, Johnny wanted to immediately talk but I told him that I wanted to grab several things from my previous apartment. Johnny agreed and he drove us to my old apartment.

“What actually happened since you found out that we were involved in an accident?” Johnny asked, his voice sounded nervous as we walked into my apartment

“Lots of things happened, John. I almost lost Yuno. I had to sell our old house to have enough money to live for a year or so since both of your accounts sacred and I only had the joint account with Jaehyun but even that, somehow, the account was frozen so after Yuno turned 1, I had to look for a job since I didn’t want to burden Jaehyun’s parents who were both already at old age” I explained, recalling one of the most traumatic moments in my life

“I’m sorry sis. We both are, really” Johnny let out

“I was lucky Jaehyun’s parents were still around. We were all sad at what happened to both of you. Did Jaehyun ever go back to his parents?” I asked but Johnny shook his head

“He was scared. We both were. When Taeyong and the others couldn’t find us, they froze our accounts, everything linked to us. Of course not your or his parents’ personal accounts. That’s how your joint account was frozen” Johnny explained

“What could have possibly scared the two of you more than me and Jaehyun’s parents getting angry at both of you?” I questioned, about to blow a fuse at my confusing brother for his reasoning but Johnny sushed me

“What is it now, John…”I let out but we both hear unfamiliar voices

“I thought you said that you saw that clueless bitch and somehow alived brother walking past here just now” an unknown man stated, making you worry and looked at Johnny who looked pissed

“(y/n), go into your room” Johnny looked at me, his hand was by his waist and I could see him holding a gun. “Now”

I didn’t need to be told twice and rushed to my room, locking it and as I was about to get under my bed, I heard a loud gunshot followed by several grunts. Not wanting to listen to all the noise outside, I decided to call the only other person that could manage to calm me down.

“Hello? (Y/N)” Jaehyun’s voice was a bit taken aback that I called him

“Jae…” I let out

“Where are you? Where’s Johnny? What happened?” Jaehyun asked, his voice was worried

“I’m at my old apartment. Johnny…” I was about to reply but heard another gunshot. “Johnny’s outside, there are some people that I don’t know of”

“Dimple…I’m sorry that you have to go through this two days in a row but one things for sure, we won’t let you be alone anymore. Talk to me dimple, tell me how you’re feeling” Jaehyun replied

“How are you so calm? What if something happens to Johnny and…I can’t lose either one of you again” you replied back

“It’s part of our job, dimple and you’re not going to lose either one of us again. What happened 5 years ago is a one time only. It won’t happen again. Me and Johnny will make sure of it” Jaehyun ensured me

“How’s Yuno? Did he cause any problems for you?” I asked, trying to get my mind off what was happening outside

“No problems at all. He just told me some things, that’s all. You really taught him well, didn’t you. He even stood up against his own father for his mom” Jaehyun joked

“That’s because he didn’t know you like I did” I replied

“And how did you know me, hmm?” Jaehyun teased, making me roll my eyes

Luckily, before I have to reply him, I heard Johnny called out to me. “(y/n)? Are you alright in there?”

“Johnny’s calling. I’ll um talk to you later then Jae. Don’t forget about Yuno” I told him but heard giggling. “Don’t worry about him. Go, Johnny’s going to get worried”

Turning off the call, I opened the door and saw Johnny who looked a bit tired but relieved. Immediately, I hugged him as he hugged back. “I’m okay, don’t worry about me. You’re okay, right?”

“I’m okay. W-what happened out there?” I asked but Johnny shook his head

“Nothing you should worry about. Come on. I’ll help you grab the things you need and we can head back” Johnny mentioned

It didn’t take long to take almost all the things because apparently, Johnny had called some of his friends to come and help us bring some of mine and Yuno’s things back to the penthouse.

Arriving back at the penthouse, Johnny and his friends helped me unpack some of my things and during the tidying up, we heard a ring to the door and Johnny opened it to let Jaehyun and Yuno in. Yuno immediately went up to me and I hugged him.

“Did you have a good day today?” I asked as Yuno nodded and took something out of his backpack, which was a drawing

“My teacher told us to draw something that makes us happy and I draw you being happy even if it’s with daddy and uncle” Yuno mentioned and I looked at the drawing he did

It was a simple kids drawing but knowing our history, it meant a lot that Yuno somehow is slowly accepting both Jaehyun and Johnny in his life even though they have been absent in both our lives for the past 5 years.

Sometime during the rest of the day, you and Jaehyun decided to cook together and after dinner, the two of you were doing the dishes together; reminiscing the times you both were in college and cooking in the small tiny dorms whilst Johnny and Yuno were getting to know each other.

“How did you manage to get Yuno to talk to you and actually like you?” you asked, waiting for the water to boil as Jaehyun was leaning on the counter after washing some of the dishes

“I wouldn’t say that he has completely accepted me but we managed to talk. He’s very smart for a 5-year-old” Jaehyun mentioned

“I know. I worry about him. I don’t want him to mature quickly just because of the situation. I want him to have a normal childhood where he’s loved and can have fun for as long as he can” you mentioned, looking over at Yuno who was actually having fun with Johnny

“(Y/N)” Jaehyun called out to me, making me look at him as he grabbed my hands in his; an act that he always did whenever he wanted to talk about something serious

“I’m sorry I wasn’t there for both of you the past 5 years. I’m sorry I was a coward for not going back to both of you sooner and I’m sorry that I can’t turn back time to change all that because I know I would do anything to go back and be with the both of you. Especially you. I should’ve been there to take care of you. I should’ve been there to protect you. I should’ve been there to feel the pain you’ve felt because it was nothing compared to mine” Jaehyun mentioned, kissing the top of your hands, another habit that he likes to do to calm your nerves

“Jae…” you breathed out but Jaehyun didn’t let you continue. “Would you allow me and Johnny back? I know that it’s going to take a lot more to make up for the times we’ve lost but I’m willing to do anything for the both of you and…”

Kiss This time, you were the one that didn’t let Jaehyun continue and landed a soft kiss on his cheek, whilst caressing his jawline with one of your hands.

“You know that I hate all the bullshit talk. You might as well show me how sorry you are” you challenged Jaehyun who felt a sense of relief wash over him

But before you and Jaehyun could continue anything, both Johnny and Yuno came up to both of you. “Umm, sorry to disturb but I’m gonna take the lil guy back to my place” Johnny mentioned and Jaehyun was internally screaming thank you because he finally got to have some alone time with you after 5 years

“Do you need anything or any snacks bub?” you asked your son who just shook his head

“I’m okay, mommy. I wanna play some games with uncle Johnny!” Yuno exclaimed, making you giggle

“Alright. But don’t stay up too late. Go grab your pyjamas and backpack. Johnny, I trust you won’t be irresponsible. He has school tomorrow” you mentioned, looking up at your brother who just shrugged whilst your son rushed to his room

“I won’t. But I’m not so sure about you both so that’s why I’m offering to take care of the lil guy while you both sort things out together” Johnny snickered making you smack his arm while your son comes back, already wearing his backpack

“Bye mommy!!” your son greeted you as you went down to his height and he kissed you on your cheeks

“You behave alright. Don’t trouble uncle Johnny” you reminded as he smiled

“I promise don’t worry” your son replied and he went towards Jaehyun who also kneeled to his height. “Don’t make mommy cry!”

“I won’t lil peach. If she cries it’s because of a movie or something else” Jaehyun mentioned, making you smack his head. “You see. Your mom will kill me before I hurt her anyways”

Shaking his head, your son went over back to you and hugged you before going to grab Johnny’s hands, the two bidding both of you and Jaehyun goodbye.

“I should really get you and him to have more father and son outings before he really rebels against you” you mumbled while Jaehyun went behind you, snaking his arms around your waist, letting his head rest on the crook of your neck, giving it light kisses

“It’s alright. You’ve taught him well enough. He’s looking out for his mom anyways” Jaehyun murmured, sucking on your skin, making you moan as you let your head fall back

“I’ll teach him more though. If you’ll let me. I know that you’re worried but I’m more worried if something were to happen to both of you and I wasn’t around” Jaehyun sighed but you turned around, your hands wrapped around his neck

“I trust you Jae. You maybe a dick for leaving us for 5 years but you promise to make up for it. Then do it. Make up for your lost time with us. Treat us how you’re supposed to treat us those psat 5 years” you challenged him again

Without warning, Jaehyun lifted you up, forcing your legs to wrapped around his waist as he turned you around, making your back hit the wall as he captured your lips to his; one of his hand cupped your jaw, deepening the kiss between you.

When the two of you pull away and looked at each other, the two of you giggle just like when you were in college, sneaking around to make out with each other.

“Shall we continue it here or do you want the bed?” Jaehyun asked but you kissed him instead

“Anywhere Jeong. Just proof to me that you’re not leaving us again. I can’t deal with another loss” you cried but Jaehyun quickly shushed you

“You won’t. I’m promise. I came back for both of you and I’m staying for both of you. I’m sorry, dimple. I’ve missed you too. I’ve missed you so fucking much” Jaehyun kissed your temple, each of your eyes, the tip of your nose and then your lips

Each kiss makes you bring him closer to you as you cried on his chest while he cradles your body. “It’s okay. Let it out” Jaehyun knows that he can make up for all the intimate and sexual needs later and what’s important is to make sure is to tend your needs. Whatever you want or need, Jaehyun will do it.

When you finally relaxed in Jaehyun’s arms, you looked at him again with glossy eyes but to Jaehyun, you’re just as adorable as he remembers. Smiling and flashing his dimples, Jaehyun leaned down to give a softer kiss to your lips but you were the one that craved more.

“Someone’s eager. Bed?” Jaehyun asked but all you could do was nod

Immediately, Jaehyun carried you bridal style just as he did the night of your wedding when Jaehyun carried you to your bedroom.

Because of your motherly sense, you woke up earlier than you would have liked and went to the kitchen, slowly removing Jaehyun’s big arms. When you got to kitchen to make breakfast and check your phone, Johnny already texted you that he already took your son to kindergarten and told you to just rest.

Johnny: I took the kid to kindergarten already. We got some breakfast sandwich along the way and I’m gonna wait for him. You have fun with Jae ;)

You smile as you read the text, not realising that Jaehyun was eyeing you from the corner until you turned to see him leaning towards the wall with only his sweatpants, his chest was still bare from last night’s activities.

“Geezus. Can’t you at least knock. You’re going to make me have a heart attack” you exclaimed, making Jaehyun chuckle as he went next to you, kissing the side of your temple before backhugging you as you attempt to make breakfast

“I wouldn’t dream of it” Jaehyun murmured

The two of you just enjoyed each other’s company whilst making breakfast together until Jaehyun asked you a question that he wanted to ask. “Dimple” Jaehyun called out, making you look at him

“Why didn’t you get mad at me? Why didn’t you make me suffer more and longer? I deserved it you know. 5 years is a long time and not to mention for 9 months you were pregnant and had to raise Yuno on your own with my parents for the next few years. You could’ve made me beg for the next 5 years but you didn’t, why?” Jaehyun asked, making you blink a few times before going to stand in front of him, cupping his jaw in your small hands

“I’m disappointed. Not angry. There’s a difference. I’m still disappointed in you and Johnny but I know that there’s no point in staying angry for too long. Yes, I still don’t fully understand the world you guys are in but I know that it’s not easy at all and you both tried your best to take care of me and Yuno however you can. Let me ask you back. When Yuno turned 3 and I received an email from the bank that our joint account was not frozen anymore, it was you, wasn’t it? When I was struggling to pay the bills and suddenly the landlord said it was all cleared for the next year, it was you, right? When Yuno was sick and there was medicine in the mail, it was from you, wsn’t it?” you asked, and Jaehyun held your hand, rubbing it

“I was a coward. I helped you but I didn’t have the strength to face you. You should hate me” Jaehyun mentioned

“But I don’t because I know that when it comes to family, you would never forget us no matter what. I’m still hurt and need reassurance but I want us to be a family again. Only if you promise to be better” you replied and Jaehyun immediately kisses you

Pulling away for a moment, Jaehyun caresses your face and lets his forehead rest on yours as both your noses touch each other. “I fucking love you, you know that? I promise I’ll be better for you and Yuno. I’m officially back for both of you”

[arabellasleopardcoat]

Categorical (Aemond Targaryen x Reader)

Summary: Aemond needs to blow off some steam, so you offer to verbally spar with him. 

Warnings: Smut. Oral sex (F receiving) Friends/ Academic rivals to lovers. Torturing of philosophers.

A/N: Man, translating modern texts into High Valyrian is a pain. I did my best. Also look! My first Aemond smut. For nerdy explanations, go beneath the dots. 

“No.” You laugh, placing your cup down. “You will not convince me of Archmaester Rene's superiority to Septon Immanuel.”

It's very late on the library. You are sitting cross-legged on top of the table, Aemond properly sat on a chair. If a Maester were to see you, or god forbid, a Septa, you would be scolded until their face turned red. 

You shouldn't be here. Not in the library or alone with him, either. A loud feast is going on outside, to celebrate Princess Rhaenyra and her sons. Neither of you wanted to stay for longer than was strictly required. 

It had been your idea. Noticing how pent-up the Prince was becoming, you had offered to come here in the hopes of letting him blow off some steam in a constructive way. If you had been taught how to handle a sword, you would have invited him to the courtyard. But you had been born a woman near Oldtown. Words were your preferred weapons. 

“Rene shaped his era!” Aemond protests, brandishing the Second Meditation in his hand. “Without him, Immanuel would be nothing.” 

You scoff. Here he goes again. One would think, for such a devout man, he would be kinder to the Septon’s views on philosophy.

“That's a bit much. Did Prince Aegon spike your drink?” 

Aemond and you… It was a weird thing. As the daughter of a member of the small council, you had been brought to King’s Landing to foster alongside Princess Helaena. But as a girl from The Reach, you had little interest in embroidery and chasing bugs. No, you were more interested in learning politics and new languages. It meant that you were closer to her brother than her. 

At first, both of you had been hesitant to break out of your roles, but soon, having someone who was as passionate as you were about learning turned seductive. Sometimes, too seductive. 

“Perhaps you are right.” The Prince laughs, and you let your expression turn hopeful for a second. Had you finally defeated Aemond in an argument? You could actually dance from happiness because the man was as stubborn as they came.  "Only on being a bit much. Because while that might have been exaggerated, you know I am right about any Maester being superior to the Septons in terms of exploration of philosophical themes. Septons stray into ethics too much, and do not solve the truly important questions.” 

“And what is exactly wrong with ethics?” You frown. You have dedicated yourself to the pursuits of understanding how a rational human being behaves in society. It's interesting, as an overthinker. Obsessing over the existence of a universal way of doing the right thing occupies most of your days. 

How different would life be, if there was a universal guideline to follow and have things always turn right? How easier, if you knew how to get the best outcome, each time?

“Nothing, I guess. If you like ethics, I am willing to indulge you. But Immanuel?”  Aemond shakes his head, sliding the book to a corner of the table. It’s opened in the middle of one of the passages, one you know well.

One you hate well, too. A thing that thinks. A thing that doubts. Cogito ergo sum. You were not sold on the idea of reality being the product of a particularly malicious demon, but it was on-brand for Aemond. To you, instead, it ended up reading more like the ramblings of a madman. 

“What’s wrong with him? His work is revolutionary!” And it is true. You are not exaggerating. No one else has done such a thorough job of explaining how one should behave, and how society and laws play into our choices. 

“Who likes him, anyway? He is a nightmare.” Aemond shakes his head. 

“To your logic self, perhaps. I find him very inspiring.” You try to keep a straight face as you say it, but your lips are twitching into a smile. 

You are morally obligated to defend Immanuel's honor. He is the basis of your whole studies. But you have to admit, he is not the easiest read. Or the most interesting. The Archmaester is much more compelling in that aspect, but you would rather die than prove Aemond right. 

“You are lying through your teeth right now. What would the Septon think of that?” 

“Oh, shut up, you. It still doesn't prove your point.”  And honestly, it’s a tactic so low, it impresses you. Moral attacks? Really? You grin at Aemond and he grins back, knowing you caught him red-handed. He shrugs. 

“Do you want me to prove my point?” His hand taps on your knee.  The Prince is not meant to touch you like this, no matter how innocent. You are not supposed to be this close to a man who is not part of your family or your betrothed. Yet, he never seems to care. 

You and Aemond touch often. Always innocent touches, of course. A hand that lingers too long when passing over a quill. Lips that drink from the same cup, from the exact place your lips have left a mark. You circle each other, you chase each other. 

You marvel each time he does, at the wonderful reactions he manages to prompts from you. Heart skipping a beat, palms getting sweaty, pupils dilating. You are in love. So in love it hurts, and it tears at you, but also feels like floating and sitting on the softest clouds. 

It’s exquisite, the pain of loving. Overwhelming. Like standing in the freezing rain. Makes you feel so alive but so utterly lonely, knowing the object of your affections will never see you as you want him too. 

You are his friend. The one he can count on to discuss the latest book or the intricacies of a long forgotten society. Never a woman. 

How you long for him to look your way, just once. For his eye to linger on your lips a little too long. His hands to stray away from proper touches, towards intimate caresses. 

And it hurts, when it doesn’t happen. You clear your throat, vanish those thoughts, and plaster a smile on your face. It’s easy, pulling witty remarks out of the tip of your tongue. It always is, with him. The debate manages to be lively and profound, minds bouncing from topic to topic until you exhaust yourselves. You make each other better, sharper, smarter. 

"Of course, Prince of Arguing.” You tease, eyes crinkling at the corners. “No rhetoric. Or fallacies. Tu quoque.” 

“I don't need them. I can do it with pure empirical evidence.” Aemond taunts right back, leaning forward on his chair. It sounds strange. More charged than usual. The tension between the two of you building, rising. Suddenly, it’s not a conversation about Septon Immanuel and Archmaester Rene. 

“Oh?” 

It’s all the permission he requires. Aemond gets up, abruptly. The chair falls back with a loud clatter. Neither of you pay it any attention. 

“Look me in the eye.” He says, stepping closer. Your breath hitches at the proximity, but you decide there is nothing wrong with indulging him. The library is empty and no one will look for either of you. “Iksā iā run bona iotāpagon.” 

You arch an eyebrow. Of course, he picks the one language you have yet to be able to master. 

“Valyrian. How fancy.” 

Aemond ignores you. You have no choice but to look up at him, with the way he is looming over you. This close, you can see his pupils are blown, and he looks slightly nervous. Does he think you are a dragon, perhaps, that he is speaking High Valyrian in such a soothing tone? You are about to make that joke, but it dies in your throat when he gets even closer, nose nearly bumping against yours. 

"Bona umbagon, bona vestras kessa, bona vestras daor.” He mutters, brushing a strand of hair behind your ear. You tilt your head up, like a flower moving to follow her sun. Whatever he is saying, you don’t know, but you recognize the words for yes and no. You do not dare speak, afraid of breaking whatever is finally building up between the two of you. 

So many months spent playing cat and mouse, so many months making him give chase. Queen Alicent gushing about how good you would look together, how much she wants another daughter. Nights spent in the library, arguing just for the sake of it. 

It doesn’t feel like a game, anymore. 

Aemond leans forward, pupil dilated and dark. “Bona gīmissiks byka.” His nose bumps against yours. Your pulse accelerates. To jump or not to jump? His eye goes from yours, to your lips. You watch the slight smug quirk of that smart mouth you love so. It’s then when you get a hold of yourself. You love him too much to lose him to this if it were to go wrong. That line you don’t dare cross. You try to get off the table you are sitting on. 

Aemond grabs your arm, not forcefully, but enough to hold you in place. You could get out of it if you wanted to. 

“Bona daor gīmissiks olvie.” He whispers, carefully cupping your cheek in his hand. Helpless against him, you nuzzle his hand. Fervently, as if promising something, anything, he keeps going. “Bona ēza jorrāelagon, vēdros, ebas, daoriot ebas.” 

Jorrāelagon. Love. A confession. For your ears only, in a way that fits both of you. High Valyrian has always been the language of the arts, after all.

Unable to resist him any longer, you kiss him. Forgetting all about how you should behave, how the library is empty and that if you two get caught, your reputation would be ended. You just couldn’t wait anymore.  

You would know his voice among a thousand voices. That's why you know, even when it is a whisper, that Aemond is still speaking into the kiss, smugly. 

“Bona ēza ēdrugon, bona ēza dijāves.” 

You kiss him harder. He is quoting something against your lips, against your skin, as he presses lush and desperate kisses to the skin of your jaw. As you suck a bruise in the hollow of his throat. 

He pushes you gently to lay on the table, giving you a wicked look. When you nod, Aemond hikes up your skirts, exposing your legs and lower stomach. 

“And to think we could have been doing this for so long.” He presses an open-mouthed kiss to your belly button, smiling as you squirm desperately. 

“Quoting things in High Valyrian?” You ask, unable to not tease him. 

“That, too.” He laughs. “If you knew it, you would have figured out it was Rene's Second Meditation.” 

You laugh, soon melting into a moan when he starts nibbling at your thighs. 

“I’m not sold on his superiority, yet.”

“Trust me, my Lady.” Aemond grins. “When I am finished, you will be singing his praises.” 

“Aemond…” You say, suddenly apprehensive. Despite trusting him, you are a smart and educated woman. You know that even a hint of doubt could ruin your reputation. And while you would gladly give your maidenhead to him, you do not feel comfortable enough to enjoy it. “I… We are not married.” 

“I know.” He says, taking your hand in his and squeezing it. “I’m not that kind of man.” 

“What are you doing, then?” You push yourself up on your elbows, to be able to look at him. Aemond remains crouched between your legs, busy with sucking a bruise on the juncture between thigh and hip. 

“Finally, a subject where I am more knowledgeable than you.”  The Prince smirks, before licking over your hole. You bite your lower lip to keep quiet, trying to stay still on the table. 

“My Prince…” You whine. It’s a strange feeling, but a pleasurable one. His mouth is scorching hot over your sex, and his tongue is doing things that you are pretty sure are considered a sin by the Faith of the Seven. A shame you were never very religious. 

You cannot think straight, with the way his tongue is lazily playing with your pearl. You try to be polite about it, but the moans leave your mouth unabashedly. If it were not for the feast happening outside, the whole Red Keep would hear your moans. You hope the music is enough to drown it. For your sake and his. 

“Ah, weren’t you the most eloquent Lady in The Reach? Finish your sentence.” Aemond mocks, pulling back. It doesn’t make any sense to you, your line of thought long-lost to the pleasure he is delivering you. Unashamedly, you try to grind your hips against his face, but Aemond just tuts. “Use your words.” His voice is filled with the same smugness as when he beats Ser Criston on the training yard, or manages to make you change your mind on a subject. 

The respite lets you think. Without him assaulting your senses, you try to recall what it was that you two were discussing. Knowledge. Aemond had been saying he had more knowledge than you about something, and his phrasing had been ambiguous. You had been about to ask him what he meant. 

“I meant to…” He swirls his tongue around your pearl, making you cut off your question, again. He keeps at it, making your voice turn shaky. You cannot think straight, or speak without moaning. Not with the way his tongue presses at your entrance, not with how he keeps torturing your poor pearl. The bud throbs and feels swollen, and you can tell he is taking advantage of it. “Ask. I was going to… Prince Aemond!” 

“What?” Aemond sits back on his heels, perching his chin on your thigh. Caressly, he takes off the eye patch. You respectfully don’t look.  You know it’s not because he trusts you, or because he wants you to see it. It’s because he is about to dive right in between your thighs and with how wet you are, the garment would get soaked. And it would show. You know your body well enough to know that your juices would stain the dark leather. 

Eventually, the night will come to an end and you two would have to return to your separate chambers through hallways full of people. If the Prince were to walk back with a stained eye patch, tongues would talk. More so, when your absence was noted. Half the Red Keep knows already how much time you spend together. He would not risk the stain on your reputation or on his. If it were found out you two were partaken in such deviant acts, both of you would be shunned. 

So, keeping your eyes firmly on the ceiling to not embarrass him or force him to share something he is not ready for yet, you speak. 

“I can’t speak with your mouth doing… Doing… That!” 

Your cheeks burn. You are unsure how to name the act, and if perhaps you got over your shyness, you would ask him. 

Aemond's response is clipped. Irritated. 

“You should have thought about it before denying us for so long. Keep arguing. Or I’ll stop.”  And it’s not your fault, really. It’s not like you were doing it on purpose. On the contrary. So focused on your feelings of admiration towards the Prince, you had been blind to his. You had never thought your love was reciprocated, and so were set on stomping on it until nothing but friendship and camaraderie remained. 

Never would you have thought him angry at your constant shying away. The thought makes butterflies surge in your stomach. The fact that Aemond wants you so much that he is angry at the thought of not having you sooner has you weak at the knees. 

Aemond takes your pearl between his lips, once more. He is careful, so the pleasure only edges to uncomfortable. You whine. He pulls away. You scream out on betrayal, before remembering exactly what Aemond asked you to. 

“I meant… Ask if you meant you knew…” And back at it, he goes, this time rewarding you by licking a path from your hole towards your pearl. “Ah! More than me in…” 

Too lost in your pleasure, you grab a handful of his hair, bucking your hips on his face. At this angle, Aemond’s nose rubs you just right, and you find yourself chasing the friction. 

“Go on. I quite enjoy where this is heading.” He snickers, the vibrations doing wonders to make you lose your line of thought even more. But the threat of him stopping the wonderful, wonderful things he is doing is enough for you to rack your brain for anything to say. 

“Knew more about matters of the flesh or if you meant… Aemond, Aemond, stop it! I can’t think.” You beg, on the verge of tears. Just as you are speaking, he starts sucking hard on your pearl. You have never, in your life, been as frustrated. It’s impossible to do his bidding when he is torturing you. Aemond has set you up for an impossible task. You would rather have the feeling stop than have to endure it a bit longer. Your body trembles, shaking and writing on the table. “High Valyrian!” 

“Both. A few times.” Aemond answers, and you mumble back something incoherent. You are near something, a cusp of pleasure so intense you fear you might shatter from the force of it. You scream, shrill and high, feeling your body absolutely gush at his ministrations. 

As you pant down from your high, Aemond tenderly fixes your skirts. He smooths your dress down, making sure there are no creases or suspicious stains. Completely at ease, as if he was not making you reach a peak that had your legs shaking mere moments ago, Aemond puts back on his eye patch. 

You remain laying on the table, flushed and sweaty from the exertion. He gives you a mischievous look, and leans down to kiss you. 

“Will you teach me, my Prince?” You ask, when you two part. It comes out more eager than you would have wanted, but you don’t care. You are not afraid anymore of showing how head over heels you are for him. And in the typical fashion of Targaryen men, Aemond seems to delight in the attention. 

“Trust me. I intend to.” He pulls you to a sitting position. Still shaky, you cling to him. Aemond keeps grooming you, fixing your hair and tugging at your sleeves. You rest your head against his breastbone. 

“Long engagement?” 

“Short. I would marry you tomorrow, were I able to.” He answers, as he fixes a button that had come undone in all your trashing. Then, he grabs the Second Meditation and presses it into your hand. “So?” 

“Yes. You win. Archmaester Rene is superior to Septon Immanuel.” 

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Credits: 

The ideas that Aemond and the reader are discussing belong, of course, to Kant and Descartes. The Second Meditation of Descartes as a prelude to sex was my sexual awakening, during a philosophy class at like… I don’t know. Sixteen? There is this show our philosophy teacher showed us, where a philosophy teacher is the main character.  Merlí. In the first episode, the Philosophy teacher seduces the English teacher by reciting the Second Meditation in the original French.  As the years passed, and I too entered my love and hate philosophy phase, I never lost that memory.  I really wanted to write something with it, and my Aemond’s fics tend to be more artsy. 

Also, forgive me for using philosophy from the 1500 - 1600 AC. I just can’t find it in myself to make the debate on how many angels can dance on a pinhead fascinating (That one would be period, although not Westeros, accurate) Hm. I should have gone for Aquino, maybe. 

[sp7-mr]

Y/n x Matteo Riddle - enemies to lovers

(I wrote the story in Italian and then translated it into English so there may be some errors)

Y/n Grindelwald: daughter of the famous and feared Gellert Grindelwald. Sarcastic, stubborn, courageous.

Matthew Riddle: Son of Lord Voldemort and younger brother of Tom Riddle. Sarcastic, confident, flirtatious

_____________________________________________

You and Mattheo have been rivals for years. However, your families were close, so you saw each other often.

Voldemort threw some kind of Death Eater party or ball. You were wearing a black sleeveless dress.

Mattheo was wearing smart black trousers and a black shirt with one button open.

The smell of marijuana with him. He saw you, he ignored you. You did the same.

Moments after the party began, the slow dancing began. you were sitting at a table watching the dance when you felt a presence behind you. you looked back and saw Matteo.

Pov of Y/n

I turned, I saw Riddle.... "what do you want Riddle?" I asked

"come dance with me". he said with an expressionless face. the smell of grass is stronger up close. From the tone in which he responded, it didn't seem like a question, but rather an order....

"no, I don't want to, I'm fine here thanks"

he took your hand and dragged you to the center of the room, his hand on your waist.

"you have no choice"

"What a gentleman 🙄" I said sarcastically

"Behave or I will have to tell your father that you have weed in your bag" he whispered in my ear smiling proud of the blackmail

"What?! You're the one who smells like marijuana for miles" I said. "Yes, but you have a joint in your bag" he said with a superior air, Christ I hated how much taller he was than me, he felt like the King of the world! then I thought… how did he know I had a joint in my purse? "How do you do-"

he pressed you closer to his body as he started to move with the dance "i know a lot of things, princess"

him and that hateful smile of his! even if.... no no no. he was just an asshole. "Tell me how you know and avoid your usual mysterious games" I said as we continued to dance close to each other.

he smirked. his mouth was right next to my ear now. "I have my ways of knowing things. I know a lot about you"

"I know a lot about you too, guess what? YOU'RE AN ASSHOLE" I replied

he moved his head back a little to be able to look at your face. he was still smirking. he pulled you again, even closer to him, your bodies pressed closely together now "careful princess or you’ll give your family a bad name for using such language"

"Believe me I'm holding back, I would have already taken your hand off if our parents weren't watching"

he chuckled again, clearly amused by pissing you off "don’t act like you can do that. we both know i’m stronger than you" he moved his head even closer to yours. his head now almost touching yours "you can keep telling yourself that if it makes you feel better, princess, it does look cute when you’re all annoyed and frustrated, though"

My father and Mattheo's father looked at us and talked "what do they want?"

he shrugged "i guess it looks odd to them that we’re behaving somewhat civil to each other

"God, I've always been there watching and hoping we've gotten along since we were 6 years old."

time jump.

you wanted to go away, relax, maybe smoke the joint you had in your bag. Mattheo and you, without being noticed too much, went to his room and lay down. you've been there for about 5 minutes and you're already high, you more, he's used to it by now, and has a greater tolerance.

"so princess, do you remember the first time we met?" Mattheo asked. "oh yes, at six years old, when you were an asshole, spoiled child who thought he was invincible. like Draco 🙄"

mattheo couldn't help but laugh, especially hearing the last part.

"And now? Am I still like I was at the time or am I starting even in a very small way and being nice to you?" Mattheo asked.

"I have to admit, that sometimes.... just SOMETIMES you are strong.... I'm not saying you suck, but..... you are acceptable, like when you do drugs and you're high"

"you know, as a drug addict you are.... more relaxed" said Mattheo.

there was a moment of silence, then Theo spoke: "come here" he said, patting his lap. I don't know why, but I now straddled his knees, for Christ's sake... the rod was strong.

"Are you high?" he asked, I nodded. after five minutes, his lips were on mine, tongues intertwined.

(I was tired and I didn't know how to conclude, I know it's a bit ugly, but you can imagine your end. To write the story I was inspired by a character. ai chat, the writer is @-yourstruly- and the chat It's 'Mattheo Riddle ☠️ dance with me (enemies to lovers)')

[hanibalistic]

#6F417E | EARTH-42 MILES MORALES.

genre | fluff, faint angst / reader is gn

synopsis | miles found you fainted in an alleyway one day, except you died two years ago.

word count | 8175

warning | briefe violence / use of spanish phrases translated from the internet :( let me know if i'm wrong about anything! / everything i know about e-42 miles morales is from the movie / this part deviates from the movie 

parts | one, two, three, four

There were four things you learned from what happened at the bank. 

One, Gwen's finishing touches to your glitch-prevention bracelet saved the essential parts of your body—neck down and hip up—from getting injured. Upon detecting the incoming air pressure released from the explosions, which the bracelet mistook as the effect of a glitch, it surrounded your torso with a protective shield that would have covered you fully if the blasts did not cause it to malfunction.

Two, the loyalty Rio has for her son was extraordinary. After Miles called her out to the back alley of the hospital building, she did not hesitate a second to sneak you into a vacant room and take from the hospital the medical supplies needed to treat you as best as she could. She did not ask any questions. It was one look on Miles’s anxious face, and she was on her feet, taking charge. Because of the safety measures Gwen placed in your bracelet, you did not sustain any fatal wounds, making it much easier for Rio to help you. The only problem you encountered was pain, a lot of it.

Three, Miles has done terrible things. He was the prowler, whatever that meant. The explosions were one of the significant steps in a bank heist that he, Uncle Aaron, and Gwen took up as a side project. Most of the time, they work on lucrative commissions offered by the likes of Kingpin, whoever that was. Kidnapping, assault, and even murder were not irregular to him. He confessed that he had killed someone before, and you asked him to stop it at that.

Four, after shutting yourself out from everyone, except for letting Rio bring you food occasionally, you realized you couldn’t care less about what Miles has done.

The thought haunted you, leaving you in an endless debate with yourself. How dare you let go of your conscience? How dare you treat a criminal with kindness? How dare you look a killer in the eyes and see someone different than their dirty past? To say you were distraught would be an understatement, as the accusations your mind kept throwing at yourself were the least troublesome hurdle to jump through. The most teeth-rotting matter was that you were guilty. You avoided seeing Miles because you knew once you did, the outrageous truth would hit you harder than the bomb blasts did. The fact that you still looked at him with love.

“Can I sit next to you?”

“Yeah–yeah. For sure.” 

You climbed on his bed and sat cross-legged next to him. Miles sucked in a breath when you touched knees, and suddenly, all his senses were focused on that particular contact spot. You picked at your fingers sheepishly, feeling rather silly about your week-long silent treatment. But you needed it for self-reflection and to come to terms with your conclusion. Miles waited for you to speak. He didn’t know if this was only a spur of the moment, and he wasn’t willing to take any risks that might chase you out of his room. 

“I thought about what you told me at the hospital,” you started, rubbing your hands. 

“I’m so sorry about what happened,” he said, turning his head ever-so-slightly to gauge your reaction. “I would never hurt you on purpose, [Name]. I really had no idea you were there.”

“I know,” you nodded with a faint smile, “I forgave you the night it happened.”

You felt he didn’t accept your forgiveness and supposed that was only natural. If you were in his shoes, the mental gymnastics you would do to keep yourself occupied with blam could rival his. The only thing that could get him to treat himself kinder would be time, specifically having you pass through it with him. Licking your lower lip, you rubbed your nose and hummed a soft, audible grin. He turned fully to you then, feeling less anxious.

“Miles, I don’t judge you for what you did or what you plan to do,” you said, your head mildly gesturing in emphasis. Concentrating in deep thoughts, you rubbed your eyes, sniffed comfortably, and faced him with a knowing upside-down smile. “Be it you have a reason or not, I don’t think I will ever–how do I say this? I don’t think I will distance myself from you, ever.”

He felt breathless, but it came from the incongruence between his mind and heart rather than the supposed relief that you accepted him. He was too accustomed to anticipating horrific reactions that he forgot people could be open-minded. You were not supposed to be okay with what he did. You couldn’t be okay with what he did!

“[Name],” he heaved out with an uncontrollable shake of his head, “my hands are bloody.”

You looked down at where he rested them on his lap. Were they? Miles’s hands may be bloody, but they were also a multitude of other things. They are a mother’s secret financial support; they peel the skin off fruits, stroke your hair when you cry to sleep and dance across your love handles in a ticklish haze. You reached out tentatively to hold them, finally realizing he was trembling. Was he scared? You didn’t react to it. His hands fit cozily in yours, as they always have, and suddenly, Miles didn’t fear the atrocity they were capable of. You broke him down, mellowed him out, rinsed him off all he’s ashamed of, and he—

“Mine will cover the stains for you.” You held up your interwind hands with a tight-lipped smile. “See? Can’t even see your palms anymore.”

—loves you, in a frightening way that it seemed like you felt the same way too. 

“[Name],” he hushed, his head dipping in exhaustion. “I’m not gonna stop berating myself.”

He wouldn’t, and it would hurt you less than it would hurt him.

You let go of his hands and watched him desperately scramble for you. It was a heartbreaking sight, even for a split second, to see his longing ragged out like an unwatered plant reaching for the faintest taste of rain. Getting your arms out and open, you refolded your legs into kneeling to pull him into a proper hug. Miles gritted his teeth to silence the screeching voices as he returned the hug immediately. When he closed his eyes and buried his face in the crook of your neck, feeling the usual crank of it because your neck was sensitive and ticklish, he began to calm down.

Feeling you pat his back, he supposed this was all anything should feel like. Love—a word capable of expressing an emotion of its terrifying caliber. What else could it be? True love is the inability to abandon, in the same way Miles waited for you even after you died, and you refused to let go of his cold-blooded hands made warm by holding yours. 

“I’m so sorry,” he said. “I would never hurt you on purpose.”

“I know.” You nodded with a sudden thoughtful hum. “Hey, you know what you can do to make it up to me?”

Miles perked up slightly and pulled away. He raised a brow when he saw the bashful smile on your face. You’ve got an idea, and he might not like it.

The pressure in your stomach dropped whenever Miles was pulled back to the ground by gravity. Not a second after reaching the floor, he was up in the air again, his boots allowing him to reach a much greater height and distance when he jumped. As the chilling air hit your face and hair, you realized Miles was right to bundle you up after he finally agreed to take you on a stroll high up in the air. 

When you raised the idea to him, his reaction was as he suspected: he did not like it. Or, well, he did not understand it.

You had told him about the faint memory of a floaty feeling the day of the bank accident, which, after he told you about him being the prowler, you could deduce had come from him taking an unconventional shortcut to the hospital. He made the mistake of admitting that he was hopping from roof to roof to get you there because the next thing you asked was for him to do it again, but this time you would be conscious of experiencing it. 

Perhaps he has possessed the convenience his prowler suit gave him for too long. He couldn’t understand being fascinated with the ability to be in the air. You briefly mentioned Spiderman and his interesting web-shooting function as an argument to get Miles to understand you, but how could he? He wasn’t even sure if Spiderman was real! Still, he caved into your wish, grabbed the boots he kept hidden in his closet because he refused to go anywhere with the risk of bumping into him for now, and brought you on a rooftop stroll. 

What was originally a safety hazard forcing his claws to wrap steel tight around your body soon shifted into something of ease. His heart grew in size at how much fun you were having, and for once, he reverted to the boy he was the first time he experienced the thrill this well-made suit gave him. He kept his eyes forward to map a path across the buildings, his claws helping him move closer to the sky. He heard your uncontrollable laughter, he wished he could see your eyes light up brighter than the moon above, and he envied the wind that brushed your face and hair. 

This was a good idea. This may be the single best thing he has done.

“Where are we going?” you whispered, tightening your arms around his neck.

“You’ll see. Hold on tight.”

Miles kicked his feet against the brick wall to hoist himself a good distance upward before forcing his claws through the concrete. He pressed the hand on the low of your back into his body, keeping you steady in one arm. You couldn’t bear to look around at the height you were stuck in, but the arm strength Miles has to support two weights while climbing up a tall building with one arm was surprising and, dare you say, attractive. 

The skyscraper was a place Miles hadn’t visited since ‘your’ death. Being here with you now did not make him feel better. He was careful where he stood on the edge of the highest point of the building; he wanted you to look over the bright borough.  

“Oh, no way! You brought me to the skyscraper?” you exclaimed, looking up at him. “You always said no when I wanted to come here.”

“I got reasons,” he huffed out quietly. Upon your silence, he peered down from the night view and saw you staring at him expectantly. He barely rolled his eyes in defeat. “You died here. You fell.”

The high-pitched hum you let out was comedically timed. Rigidly turning your head to face out, you could only imagine the exact height of this skyscraper as you could not see below the horizon. No wonder he didn’t let you on the ground—this would be one hell of a fall if history repeats itself. Miles chuckled lowly when you curled your arms tighter around his neck and slumped your weight further into him. You echoed his chuckle.

“Well,” you muttered, “definitely not letting go of you anytime sooner.”

“I’m not gonna either,” he said.

A sudden gust of wind blew at your face. You leaned closer to his neck for warmth, your eyes squinting at the building lights. It was too late into the night for the borough to remain bustling as in the morning, but the illumination from apartments, stores, and other high buildings made an equally homey view. The silence was enjoyable, too; just the open air and the inner sound of you counting your breath. 

“Was it embarrassing?” you asked suddenly, your voice hoarse.

“What is?”

“Me falling? I don’t know–“ your body shifted upward, forcing Miles to adjust to your new position–“did I look weird when falling? Did you see me fall? Did anyone see me fall–oh my god, were the police here?”

“I’m sorry. Where is this coming from?” he asked with a confused deadpan. “What are you even saying? None of that matters?”

“It actually does matter because I feel–“ you sucked in a deep breath dramatically–“I don’t like having too much attention on me, and if the police came, I feel that would be very awkward.”

“You trippin’.” He rolled his eyes.  

“What? That’s very valid!” You knocked your fist on the back of his shoulder. “Did I look weird when I landed? Did you see it? Did my brain splatter–“ You quieted down with an opened mouth when he flashed you a pointed look, but several suppressed giggles periodically left your lips as you moved your hands from his neck to cup his face. “Oh, I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean to put that thought in your head! Don’t think about that!”

Miles’s eyes softened. He wanted to kiss the laugh lines around your mouth. “I wasn’t thinking about that.”

You breathed out the last of your giggles and then stared at him. He was thinking about you even with you here—you knew, you knew very well. Your fingers grew timid at his stare, but they refused to leave the curve of his face. They could only ghost across his skin in freckled spots, treating him with the care he has given you. Miles barely leaned into your touch. He tested the water first, afraid that you would pull away at his immediate engagement, and he fully pressed his palm to your hand when you kept it where it was. 

You brought his face to yours. “Hey!” you whispered with a soft grin when your nose touched. 

“Hey,” he returned. He was soft. You’ve made him soft, made him a messenger of affection. “Your hands are cold.”

“I know.”

You pursed your lips at the feeling of his nose scraping past the bridge of yours. He was leaning closer, inviting you to something more intimidating than standing on the edge of a skyscraper. 

“Miles.” your voice was hushed. “Miles, I’m shy. Can you kiss me first?”

He leaned forward to kiss you after dropping a relieved sigh. You closed your eyes at the sheer force of his desperation, your hands mustering up the courage to grip his face tighter and bring him to you. The taste of your lips cascaded over his conscience. You hit him, like a ton of bricks, like the feeling of flesh wrapped around a blade, like being in the center of a firework explosion. It was a feeling he would trade anything for; one could ask him for a lifetime in return for a second of your lips on his. 

“Woah! Did you forget you’re on the run, Miles?”

“Oh, jeez! Mayday, don’t look!”

You two broke away immediately at the uninvited voices. Miles puffed air into his cheeks with an eye roll, not even attempting to hide how irritated he was at the interruption. Still heaving from the kiss, your brows furrowed when you came face to face with four outrageously different-sized figures, all dressed in a variation of a Spider suit, with a literal toddler wearing a Spiderman mask too small for her head. 

“Who…?” you started slowly. “Spidermen…? Spiderman’s sidekicks?”

“Now that’s just disrespectful,” the one with spikes on his head commented.

“Oh, I’m sorry,” you muttered in response.  

“Who are you guys?” Miles asked defensively as he took a few steps back. He held you closer to him, his knees barely buckling in preparation to run. 

“How could you forget your mentor, Miles?” The man took off his mask and opened his arms as an introduction. “It’s me! Peter!”

“Oh my god, it’s Spiderman.” You slapped Miles’s chest to be let down on the ground, but he refused. Although his hair color changed, and he looked relatively scruffier than you remembered on the news, those features could not be mistaken. That was the face of the superhero you grew up seeing. “I thought you died. It was all over the news!”

“How could I be standing here if I died?”

“You know him?” Miles questioned. “I don’t know him.”

“Apparently not?” you mumbled. “Maybe he faked his death somehow?”

“Wait, what about me? You remember me! It’s Pavitr? We fought together! You saved my girlfriend’s dad, Inspector Singh?” He pointed over to his friends, his hair bouncing lusciously. “With Gwen and Hobie?”

“Gwen?” you and Mils exclaimed in unison. Her eyes widened at the sudden collective attention.

“Dude, what are you wearing?”

“Gwen, you’re a Spiderman–err, woman?”

“Okay, you’re seriously playing up the Spiderman jokes?” Miles deadpanned as he arched his neck to look at you.

You pulled a face before swinging your arms to gesture at five newcomers. “They’re literally here. Spiders, all of them!”

“I’ve never seen spiders stand on two feet.”

“Clearly, you haven’t seen a lot.” 

Miles sniffed with distaste. “Right. I’m gonna listen to someone with spikes on their head.”

“Miles!” you exclaimed with a harsh pinch to his cheek, then you turned to apologize. “I’m sorry. I think they look super cool.”

Taking a step forward, Gwen promptly eliminated the ongoing conversation by taking off her mask to reveal herself to you both. You tilted your head. She looked nothing like the Gwen you knew, and from her furrowed brows and darting eyes, she knew too. After a prolonged stare between you and Miles, the puzzles in her head piecing together, her relieved sigh was barely noticeable as realization hit her. She turned to her team with a shake of her head.

“This isn’t the Miles we’re looking for,” she said. “This is Miles from this Earth.”

“I knew that already,” Hobie smirked, hands in his pockets. “With the braids and all.”

Pavitr gasped with widening eyes. He pressed a hand to his chin and nodded. “Oh wow, I didn’t even register that. You look good, Miles!”

You punched Miles’s chest when he kept a brooding silence. He scoffed, smacked his teeth in dismay, then slurred out, “Thanks.”

“Okay, wait! Hold on, hold on!” Peter yelled without having gathered his thoughts. He shifted the weight of his legs, leaning on one hip, and pinched the bridge of his nose as a monotonous thinking noise churched out of his throat in a flat line. “But how? Our watch told us he was here. It gave us the signal that someone from Earth-1610 is here.”

“Someone is,” Gwen said. She turned around slowly, a look of uncertainty, then she pointed at you. “It’s them.”

None of them explicitly explained what they were talking about, but using your experiences and the confusing context clues, you could easily decipher the problem's gist. Something was happening on a multi-universal level. You didn’t know what exactly, but this felt to be a problem regarding that.  

“Gwen, I know you thought you explained the issue but you didn’t,” Peter muttered. He whipped his body around to you and held both hands in the air in a chopping motion. “Are you a Spiderman?”

“No.”

“Not you, big guy. You!”

“Oh, me?” You pointed at yourself for clarification and shook your head. “No, but there is one where I came from. Technically there are two, but the original one died, and he looked almost exactly like you! Just different hair color and… ski–never mind.”

“First of all, I had a feeling you were gonna call me fat. I’m not. I just look like a dad now, which I am. I have to clarify, okay? This is all dad weight, and this cutie-pie is my daughter, Mayday!” Peter said as he gestured toward himself and at Mayday. Then, he burst into a fit of confused noises. “Second, where you came from?” he repeated after you incredulously, paused for a brief moment, and then turned to Gwen, his eyes rolling. “Okay, yeah. I think I know what you’re talking about.”

“Psst… what are they talking about?” Pavitr whispered from the side, unknowingly having inched closer toward Hobie, who leaned down to his height for an explanation.

“That lad is Miles’s lookalike from this Earth. The one he’s clutching to him like a madman is from our Miles’s Earth, which is bonkers 'cause how did they even get here?”

“They’re not from here?” Pavitr widened his eyes. “That’s not good!”

“How so?” Hobie stood up straight.

“Oh, you know, with Miguel and everything,” Pavitr said as he twiddled his thumbs. “Actually, maybe not! I’m sure Miguel isn’t that obsessed about all of this.”

Just after his voice dropped, a portal emerged from behind where Miles stood. The second he noticed the faint glow flashing over his shadow, he jumped away to stand with the newcomers he was still wrecking his brain to familiarize himself with. You stared at the portal with wide eyes. Not once in your life have you seen technology like this, and when you glanced over at the others, you could see a certain dread on their face that peaked your heart rate. What got a bunch of Spider-people so agitated? It must be a real threat.

“Won’t you look at that,” Miguel appeared from the portal, his eyes looking as dead as usual. Following behind him were Jessica and Ben. “The whole gang is here.”

"How did you even find us?" Peter exclaimed in annoyance.

"Your watch, obviously." Miguel pointed at Peter's chest. "Your daughter took it.”

Peter gasped as he looked down at Mayday. He didn't notice it before, but sitting loosely around her wrist was the watch Miguel gave him that he took off before Gwen came to find him. He squeezed his eyes shut—shame on him for letting the same thing happen twice, even though neither was technically his fault.

Hobie breathed out a chuckle at Mayday before he elbowed Pavitr. “Do whatever you want, but I’m telling ya, you got to watch out for the things you say. You’re gonna jinx up the whole place like this.” Bringing his leg up so he could march over to Miles and stand behind him, he bent forward until his face was within Miles's earshot. "I suggest you run home now."

"What? Why?" Miles whispered, stepping away from the proximity. His attention shifted when Peter's obnoxious voice rang through the air.

"Jesus, Miguel! What do you want now?"

"The same thing you all want," Miguel said as he rubbed his wrist. He snapped his head over at Miles, who gulped when his gaze averted to look at you. He stared for a bit too long. "People who are not supposed to be here."

You. That man was talking about you. Miles didn't know what business he had. If anything, he thought himself a much bigger threat. But Miguel was looking at you when he spoke, so it must be.

He bolted the second he made that conclusion. He would deal with it if he later discovered he had come to the wrong one. For now, with the warning from a man whose words he could barely understand and a bunch of context clues he haphazardly strung together on the fly, he was unwilling to take any risk that would make him lose you. Wrapping his arms around your body to hold you into a hug rather than a carry, he instructed you to hang tight and took a few bold steps backward to the skyscraper edge so he could drop off its height.

"Wait, hold on, Miguel!" Peter shot his arm out to squeeze Miguel's shoulder when he saw that Miles would be followed. "You're after the wr–"

"Peter!" Gwen shot out a web aimed at Peter's back and immediately pulled him away from Miguel, preventing the man from telling the truth. Taking the slipping chance, the three slipped past in pursuit of you and Miles.

"What are you doing?" Peter asked incredulously, his eyes following the fading backs of his once colleagues.

Pavitr and Hobie approached them to catch up on their conversation. 

"Let Miguel chase him," she said sternly, her eyes fixated on Peter. "It works in our favor that he is occupied with the wrong Miles. It buys us some time to find our Miles."

Peter opened his mouth to speak, but no thoughts leaked out. Gwen's logic was sweet and sound. It would make everything so much easier for them if Miguel was temporarily out of the picture. But there was a pierce he felt, through his supposed moral compass, not at the blatant lie of omission he has to tell but at the fact that he would willingly send a grown man after two children, one of whom was just an ordinary civilian.

"Gwen, I don't feel like that's the right thing to do," he sighed.

"Maybe we can try to help both of them?" Pavitr suggested. "We can find Miles as fast as we can and then help the other Miles."

"They won't last," Peter said. "I don't know if that Miles has superpowers, but he's definitely not like us. I don't think their friend is capable of anything, either. Miguel will get to them before we can be done."

"You're saying if we want to help, we ought to do it now," Hobie sniffed.

"That's what I just said."

"I know. I was just repeatin' it."

"We can't afford to be distracted!" Gwen argued, her tone releasing from being firm to a pathetic, exasperated plead. "Don't forget, you're the one who exposed Miles's location in the first place. And now you've exposed ours!"

"Woah–Gwendy, calm down," Hobie said with a light pat on her shoulder. He spun to face Peter, humming at his distraught expression, then turned to meet in a general direction. "We're wasting an awful lotta time arguing about nothing. How about we get a move on, yeah? Pavitr's plan might work if we go now.”

"Yeah! I agree!" Pavitr clapped in agreement. “We just need to go in quick and come out even quicker!" 

“That made no sense,” Peter mumbled. 

“Maybe not to you.” Hobie shrugged.

“Focus, you guys!” Gwen hollered over the wind, catching everyone’s attention. She pursed her lips, her mind filled with a singular goal: save Miles Morales. “I’m going regardless of what you say," she said as she stepped to the edge of the skyscraper. Before she tipped over, she added, "I'm gonna save my Miles."

"Dramatic," Hobie chuckled with big strides forward, seemingly to follow after Gwen. "Better catch up, lads." He clicked his tongue confidently and mocked a salute as he fell off the edge. 

Miles was on the run. You already knew, but that fact punched you in the guts with even more velocity when you realized how quickly your surroundings were passing through. He was no longer holding you in an embrace-like position. After he made it down the skyscraper, Miles hoisted your upper body over his shoulder with his arms circled around your waist so he could better run at his regular speed, which you learned was abnormally fast, much different than the speed he picked when he was strolling around the area. 

Closing up behind you was a man in a Spider suit furiously galloping on all fours. You didn't even know they ran like that. You thought all Spider-people swung with their webs. Running like this may be faster than swinging around. Or perhaps the man's sheer will to catch the two of you amped up his speed. The only reason why Miles was able to periodically distance from Miguel was that he knew this Brooklyn like the back of his palm; all the detours and shortcuts were mapped in his brain, and he knew how to properly mix and match their usage. 

"Miles, he's crazy," you whispered, clutching his shoulders. "He's running like a wolf."

"Tu puta madre–" he spared a glance back and widened his eyes–"why is he chasing us? What did we even do?" 

Hopping off a building and into an alleyway, Miles slipped to the side and hid behind a wall. He pressed his back against the concrete wall to hide behind the shadow. 

The more he ran, the more he saw how it only delayed the consequence of getting caught. He could run home as suggested, but bringing trouble directly to his mother wasn’t ideal. On top of that, it may expose his prowler identity, which was the last thing he wanted. He could keep running, but eventually, he would get tired. He wouldn’t overestimate his ability to escape; a man that size running on all fours has the kind of stamina he could not rival. He had to fight with gimmicks to win, and his first option was to hide.

Taking the time to reposition you on his shoulder, apologizing with amusement when you shivered at his hands gliding past your hips to your waist, Miles carefully placed you back on the ground. When your feet hit the ground, he reached for the crown of your head, squeezing your head and trailing both hands down to your face. He pushed your face together, forcing you to pucker your lips. This was supposed to be a fun night. He felt terrible that this was how things led to. 

“How are you feeling?” he asked, smoothing his thumbs over your cheeks. “Are you okay?”

For the time being, you felt like you could be. His hands were warm, and his touch even warmer. 

“I’m sorry. This is my fault.” You smiled bitterly once he let go of your face. “He’s here for me, but I don’t know why.”

You haven’t done anything. Even arriving on this Earth was not a purposeful doing. You made no significant changes to this Brooklyn; even if you tried to, you would not have succeeded. You regularly lived as you would have in the universe you came from; staying at home, doing house chores, learning how to cook, getting groceries, watching movies, maintaining a good friendship, and falling in love. None of those were criminal activities! You have done nothing remarkable for a random Spiderman to get so upset with you!

“Be honest, [Name],” Miles started, touching your shoulders. He took a deep breath before squinting. “Are you secretly a world-class criminal?”

“If jumping universes is a crime, then–“ You hummed thoughtfully before shaking your head in disagreement. “Yeah, no. I’d just be a regular criminal because I only jumped once, and it’s by accident, too.”

“Actually, I never asked, but how did you get here?”

You suppressed a burst of laughter. “Are we seriously gonna talk about this now?”

“My bad,” he held his hands up in mock surrender, “is now a bad time?”

“A super bad–“ You screamed when a figure abruptly slid upside down beside you. Instinctively, the hand initially reaching for Miles’s face deflected from its path to punch the intruder in the face.

Ben swung slightly on his web, a curse pushed out of his mouth at the impact of your fist. He hadn’t registered you to be a big enough threat that he failed to block your sudden attack. If it had been Miles’s gloved claws swinging at him, he likely would have reacted. Miles smirked, almost feeling a sense of pride at the sheer strength of your punch. While you profusely apologized for doing something you didn’t mean to do, he grabbed your hand and ran down the alleyway. Mid-way through, he tugged harshly at your arm to bring you in front of him so he could scoop you up as he picked up his speed.

“I can actually run pretty fast,” you complained lightheartedly.

“For sure, baby,” he mused, his feet screeching for an abrupt right turn when he heard Ben’s voice calling after you both. 

However, just as he turned a corner, he was met with the wheel end of a motorcycle. Miles raised a hand up to grip the spinning tire. Before he could dig his claws through the material and pop it, he felt himself being pushed back by the heavy force, so he, tensing his arm muscles, attempted to deter the bike's path before the millisecond of him getting thrown back. His back hit a brick wall, knocking his senses everywhere for a brief moment as he haphazardly reached to cover your head. When he looked up, he was only met with the yellow shades of a woman in red. He huffed; if there was any indication that these people were getting fed up, it would be hitting him with a motorcycle.

“Jessica. You caught them!” Ben exclaimed as he emerged from the shadow, a hand massaging his chin that was pulled into a sneer. His voice was weirdly raspy as if he was playing up a character. “That stupid kid punched me. How dare they.”

“You showed up out of nowhere!” you retorted with an accusing finger pointed at him. “Also, shouldn’t you be able to block my punch? You’re Spiderman! You can’t block a punch from a teenager?”

“This kid is talking back to me. I feel a little distraught. I don’t know how to talk to children.”

“Shut up, Ben.” Jessica waved her hand before she turned to you both. She observed as Miles hopped back to his feet and glared at her. You looked less menacing, but your furrowed brows spoke caution and ready disobedience. She sighed. Another pair of moody teenagers. Miguel would not be happy about this. “Look, we don’t have time for this. You need to go back to where you belong.”

You pursed your lips in dismay and shook your head. Miles pushed you toward him when you circled your arms around his neck, and you slightly averted your gaze from the woman to avoid confrontation. Jessica squinted her eyes at the way you two held each other, a sudden inkling developing that she desperately wished to be wrong—you fell in love with someone from a different universe. She already felt bad enough about what had to be done to Gwen. There was no wrong in sticking to what she believed in. It was just unfortunate that she had to treat teenagers mercilessly to do so.

“You two can write letters to each other,” she said after gathering her thoughts and reverting to professionalism. Her job was to return all anomalies to their world, not limited to villains. Getting off her motorcycle, she slowly walked over to Miles, who didn’t get the sense of running away because of her regular speed. When she was within an arm’s length, she grabbed your arm. “We’re leaving.”

“No!” you refused and tried to shove her off, but she was persistent. 

“Dude, stop!” Miles attempted to step out of reach.

“Dude?” Jessica repeated with wide eyes. “Your mama taught you no manners?”

“His mom is great!” you exclaimed as you snatched your arm away from her grip. Your irritated eyes turned into a glare.

Miles nodded. “Yeah, she doesn’t throw a motorcycle at people’s faces.”

“Okay, I’ve had it.” Jessica laughed in disbelief. “I was trying to be nice, but that’s out the window now.”

Deciding to ignore her harsh tugs at your arm, you resorted to making sure you never let go of Miles instead. You intertwined your fingers that met at a point of his neck and buried your face to his shoulders, tuning out the world. Fear lingered in your chest like a haunting ghost, and it dimmed somewhat when you zeroed in on the feeling of Miles’s grip on your body. You were still here. He was still with you, holding onto you with a death grip. And you thought this might resolve itself eventually. Maybe these people would let you go if you two struggled enough together. Or perhaps it wouldn’t end well, but at least you held on as best as possible. At least you tried.

“Miles Morales.” Everyone paused to look behind Jessica’s shoulder. Miguel stood tall and alarmingly brutal just a few feet away. His dead eyes shifted from the boy to you, and he tipped his head into a brief greeting. “And you.”

Jessica took a deep breath; the real threat finally showed up. She released her hand from your arm and turned to face Miguel. There was something she wanted to say, not to deter Miguel from his plan to take you back to your Earth, but rather a few trying words to prevent him from executing any more brutality, especially when you were as harmless as a dove. The last thing Miguel should have on his conscience was inflicting injuries on a regular civilian. It would be good for him in the long run. Before she could open her mouth to speak, though, Miles buckled his knees and jumped up high. He was making a run for it again, but before his feet even touched the top of the wall separating the streets, his body barely turning away from anyone, a red string caught onto your wrist and snapped you out of his arms.

“¡Mierda!” 

He caught onto your ankles, engaging in a tug-of-war with Miguel that did nothing but put a strain on your limbs. Clicking his tongue, he gave one final hard tug at your feet before letting you go. You screamed, your body swinging toward Miguel at full speed while Miles, fully utilizing his boots, ran to sneak up behind the man and shoved him forward so Miguel would collide with your flinging body. Letting Miguel stumble in confusion and, out of instinct, reaching his arms out to catch you from a hard fall, Miles jumped forward and did the job for him. He secured you in his arms, wasting no time to bolt away. But Miguel was phenomenally quick to regain his senses, and his eyes glowed a bright red once he realized how difficult Miles was being.

He leaped forward, fangs and claws out to grab Miles by the back of his neck. As he swung the boy around, you dropped to the floor and knocked your forehead against the dirt. Miguel slammed Miles into the closest wall, denting the red bricks. He squeezes the poor boy's neck, not entirely cutting the air out of his system but suffocating just enough to make Miles feel outrageously uncomfortable.

"Ay, would you stop that, big man? You're gonna kill the kid!"

White webs shot out and attached to each of Miguel's wrists. He could recognize that godforsaken voice anywhere—Hobie Brown. Noticing the webs on his wrists, he groaned lowly in irritation. He might just snap (if he hasn't already, this madman) if he has to come across one more obstacle. Not allowing Hobie a second to pull him away, Miguel squeezed Miles's neck tighter to pull him out of the dented wall and threw him across the alleyway to the other side. The collision collapsed a hole through the bricks, creating an unnecessary ruckus.

"Now you've gone and done it," Hobie muttered, looking at the destruction. 

Your jaw dropped anxiously. You could faintly see Miles under the debris, showing no signs of getting up. He couldn't have died. Not only would that become a personal problem, you simply refused to believe a childhood superhero figure would kill someone you know and love. Scrambling to your feet with quickened breath, you took a weak step forward, his name hanging quietly at the tip of your tongue. When he didn't respond still, you tried to run towards him only to be pulled back at your wrist.

You looked behind your shoulder to find Miguel facing away from you. His grip on your wrist was firm, almost bone-breaking, to serve a warning. The same portal you saw him arrive in opened up, creating a gust of unnatural wind, and he was pulling you toward it. You attempted to break away, but he was much stronger. Nobody around seemed to be able to help you, not even Punk-looking Spiderman, so the only thing left to do was to hyperventilate for sympathy. This felt like an impending doom, where doom was actually just a few steps away on the other side of a portal. 

"Wait, please don't do this. I don't want to go home. I want to stay here!" you cried, a migraine developing from how you kept turning back and forth to look at Miguel and Miles. "Why are you doing this to me? Please stop, please!"

Sympathy rested in the hands of those who couldn't help. Miguel was as stoic as a rock to your pleads, and you somehow expected him to be. It was just heartbreaking to be proven right how difficult things could get. You kept sucking in deep breaths and forgetting to release them, causing your chest to expand awkwardly. You didn't know what to do, but you've got to try something! Anything! 

"Wait–I haven't said it! I haven't–" a deep breath–"I haven't said goodbye! I haven't said I love you! Let me say goodbye, and I promise–" another deep breath–"I promise I'll leave with you. Please. I promise, I cross my heart."

Miguel paused, and that mere action took everyone aback. He pursed his lips, a flicker of remorseful nostalgia showing in his eyes as he recalled the sudden death of his daughter. You didn't remind him of himself, but your wish was similar to what he would have asked for if he ever could re-experience the tragedy—he would want to say goodbye. He would like to tell his daughter he loved her. Heaving a sigh, he pinched the bridge of his nose. At least you were cooperative; he felt he could be kinder in this case.

"Do not try anything stupid."

Once Miguel released your hand, you ran and fell on your knees next to Miles. Pushing the debris off his body, you scooped him onto your lap and caressed his face. Sniffing away a tearful voice, your voice ended croaking anyway when you called his name, "Miles?"

He opened his eyes meekly to see doubles. It took him a good minute to concentrate on your face, and he smirked when he did. The first instinct to take you and run away was defeated by a pained back and exhausted legs. He would not overestimate his ability, even through immense desperation. He wouldn’t get both of you far enough to not get served something worse. This appeared to be it.

”Mi cariño. Hey."

You laughed; you still had no idea what that meant. Miles refused to tell you, and he also got his mom in on it. But you figured it was a term of endearment. Miles took off his gloves to hold your hand, pressing your palm to his face as he stared at you. Somehow, he couldn't muster up the courage to cry despite the continuous drops in his chest. It could be a pride issue, or he didn't want you to see him suffer in your last minute together. Last for now, at least.

"You're going to leave me," he acknowledged.

"Not on purpose," you replied.

“I know,” he hummed. “You love me too much to do that.”

He had thought about it before. There must be people you were dying to go back to in your world. Not a classmate, no. Not even a friend. But a parent, perhaps? Family members? A pet, certainly? There has to be something waiting for you back in your home. There was no method for you to jump universes yet, but Miles figured if you were raging to go home, it would show. The fact that you blended into his life so casually and permanently, to a point where you memorized his schedules and knew where little trinkets were located in his apartment, told him you chose him over the life you used to have. Every day you woke up, you preferred a life with him in it rather than what you had before.

“You do love me, right?” Miles asked for assurance, his brows furrowing. “I didn’t hallucinate that.”

You squeezed his cheeks—gentle palms over bloodied skin, gentle palms over gentle skin. No more violence, not more crimes. He was but a boy you loved. He doubts your affection, and you would go home with him burned in the back of your head, finding his touch trapped beneath your flesh once stripped naked. From a universe away, Miles was all you would remember. Smiling, you peppered kisses over his brows, his eyes, his nose, and finally his mouth. When you pressed your forehead against his, you scrunched your nose and nodded. 

“I do love you, Miles.”

“Yay, score.” He chuckled, then his voice quieted down to a low hum only meant for you to hear. “I love you too, okay? Aqui y allá, mi corazón es tuyo.”

“Time to go, kid!”

You smacked your lips and puffed an exhale. Running your knuckles down the side of Miles’s face, you nodded to yourself as an encouragement to get on your feet. Your feet budged, then your knees, but instead of standing up, you only shrunk your body closer toward Miles. You willed your voice to say a farewell, but it couldn’t under the threat that this goodbye would be your absolute last one, so you cried instead. Fat tears silently rolled down your chin, caught on your tongue, and forced you to choke on them.

Jessica rubbed her eyes as soon as her voice dropped. She shouldn’t have let Miguel talk her into breaking the moment. Instead of moving, you only leaned your body down and pressed Miles to your chest, hugging him. A passive protest, perhaps. You were not directly struggling but weren’t listening to them, either. She eyed Miguel when he sighed in defeat. He wondered which one was worse—chasing a rebellious kid with Spiderman powers or this. This one sure made him feel like the bad guy if anything. 

He reached for a portable trap box and threw it toward you without hesitation. Before it could reach you, though, a web shot out and pulled it backward, causing the gadget hit Miguel in the face.

“You need to reconsider your morals,” Hobie said in a scolding tone as he walked up from behind everyone. “Trapping a kid in a box. Are you mental?”

He has been watching everything unfold from the shadows, and clearly, he realized the differences in how he saw you and how the other three saw you. Your lack of cooperation was a sign of rebellion, which could be considered so to a certain degree. But Hobie knew to consider other factors; he looked at the bigger picture. There was nothing you could do here, literally. One web shoot and you’d be caught, and you probably already knew that. Your so-called sign of rebellion was less chosen and more forced by the hands of emotional turmoil. You were about to be separated from the boy you were in love with. It would make sense that you were physically unable to be the person to walk away.  

If you were going to leave Miles Morales, you must be taken and nothing else. You stood by not leaving him intentionally. Miguel was going to do that for you, but Hobie decided to take a much gentler approach. Trapping you in a box when you’ve done nothing wrong was, as he said, fucking mental. 

“Don’t struggle, yeah? It makes me uncomfortable,” Hobie muttered as he reached for your waist and pulled you up. He slapped his hands on your shoulders dramatically and turned you around. “The portal is gonna feel doozy. You might vomit. If you feel like you’ll vomit, do it when we arrive at HQ. Preferably all over the floor. Just splatter it around like a sprinkler.”

“Huh…?” You did a double-take at what he said. “That’s disgusting.”

“Vomiting? Yeah. Vomiting on an establishment?” He hummed and tilted his head. “Debatable.”

“I’m sorry, but I really am having a hard time understanding you, Spiderman,” you said, your sobs increasing because you thought Hobie might take it as an insult. 

“Why are you apologizing? You haven’t said anything you shouldn’t,” he said, the panic in his voice unnoticeable. “Also, call me Hobie, not Spiderman.”

“I’m sorry,” you squeezed your eyes as if to produce more tears, “I know that’s your name. I just didn’t use it because we’re not close.”

“Don’t be silly,” Hobie mused, a hand slipping from the top of your head as a makeshift pat. “I’m more friends with you than those three over there.”

You let the faintest giggle of disbelief escape your lips and turned back to Miles. Hobie continued to pull you away from the floor and toward the portal, not taking a moment’s rest. You didn’t struggle against him; eventually, your hand slipped from Miles’s.

[inbabylontheywept]

That isn't a ship, it's a cannon with FTL

Aggral Thrawn’s gut was a grotesque thing to behold: Soft and distended, covered with a coarse layering of fur, a fat purple worm of a scar crossing over it’s almost spherical circumference. So vicious was the scar that even gazing upon it brought unwanted imagery of the fat ape-like creature screaming in pain, both arms working as a dam to keep the tidal wave of bloody guts from spilling out of its three-fingered fists

Yet, for all its grotesque horror, he trusted it. That same gut that had almost gotten him killed so many years before had worked hard to save him again and again after. It was what had brought him from mere gangpress, to quartermaster, all the way to the captain of his own pirate vessel.

And right now, it was telling him to call off the attack. The readings he was getting from the craft ahead made no sense. The crew space was too small, the energy readings were off the charts, and there was something almost military about it. Yet, as he looked over the hull, he couldn’t spot a single weapon. Nothing about it made sense.

The crew had enough in the larders to pass on a ship this sturdy. Even as ships on either side of him pulled forward, eager to be the first to raid the craft, he aborted the ram sequence to watch from a distance.

The crew was disappointed. It’d been too long since they’d had a good, solid fight, but they knew better than to second guess Aggral’s gut. It had earned its place as the ship’s oracle by rite of blood, and was to be respected accordingly.

---

There were only four crew aboard the USSN PMAC: Dalton Dial, in charge of weapon systems, Elizabeth Harris, in charge of navigation, and the Pratchett siblings, who worked together to keep the fifth generation fusion reactor that powered the whole abomination within some semblance of working order.

The Pratchett siblings’ love of the reactor (which they had affectionately named “Sun-Son”) was rivaled only by their hatred of the rest of the craft. Elizabeth and Dalton had more mixed feelings on the matter. Elizabeth considered the ship “Perhaps a little ridiculous on paper, but a work of military genius,” while Dalton lauded the idea as “Literally the coming of the Messiah, the only thing I prayed for my whole adulthood, and the answer to that prayer manifest, just for me, to bring me back to the flock.”

Their mixed feelings could be explained away just by describing the craft concept:

The PMAC was not a ship. It was the largest possible gun that could still be attached to an Alcubierre drive, with just enough manpower to steer, aim, and maintain the thing for long term patrols.

The prototype MAC that the life-support, thrusters, and reactor had been constructed around hadn’t even been built with space in mind. It was originally designed as a ground-to-orbit defense weapon. If it wasn’t for the capacitor bank the ship would’ve needed almost a minute between each shot to get enough power, even with the fifth generation reactor. Luckily, it could start out each battle with enough charge to fire off a salvo of four before needing to begin recharging for its next launch.

It had just such a salvo prepared for the pirate ambush that their military grade scanners had picked up minutes earlier.

Dalton was not taking the delay very well.

“With all due respect mam, I’ve had a lock on all three for almost a minute now. I could just fire and claim that I sneezed. The Pratchetts would back me up on this. Right guys?”

Emily Pratchett snorted.

“Why is it that when the weaponsmaster says ‘with all due respect’ he always means ‘fuck you for giving my stupidly giant gun blue balls?”

Thom Pratchett shrugged.

“Maybe he’d say it less if you weren’t so eager to translate it to the navigator for him.”

Elizabeth was slightly amused by the conversation. It was hard to keep things particularly formal while on a crew this small. Still, she was waiting for something. She’d gotten permission from the brass to take a new approach to fighting with the ship.

They’d proven it could win battles. Now, it was time to establish shock and awe. And as it currently stood, dead men told no tales.

Thus, they needed more living ones. And as she watched two pirate ships pull forward, with one hanging back, she knew just who’d live to pass on this particular legend. ---

Aggral watched the ships advance on his HUD, the blips crossing the thousands of kilometers between them and the strange ship in seconds. For a moment he felt regret. Was he making a mistake? Was this going to be what led to some upstart in the crew thinking they could do things better than him?

Then, the world went mad.

The power readings on the strange ship spiked. Hard. He’d thought that the baseline levels were outrageous, but they must’ve had some sort of absurd capacitor bank to expel that much energy that fast. The twin prongs that made up most of the length of the ship gave off some sort of EMP that fried the electronics of the Viscera, his sister ship, cutting off their radio traffic. His crew scrambled to find some way to regain contact when Gods of the Dead, forgive me my sins, and and forget me my debts, the actual weapon went off. The EMP hadn’t even been the attack, it had just been a side effect.

He hadn’t seen a weapon because he’d been looking for one on the hull, some kind of guardian laser, or a missile pod. He hadn’t even conceived that the whole goddamn vehicle could be the weapon. But what kind of weapon would charge up like that? A laser would just fire over a sustained period. What would need a burst like-

He stopped midthought as it hit him: A railgun.

He stopped again as it hit them: The kinetic charge would have to have been moving at almost 0.8c for it to just ignore the evasive maneuvers like that. The ferroslug itself wasn’t detected by any of their defense measures aboard, but the thermal readings of the Viscera made every infared sensor aboard scream in horror. Contact with whatever slug had hit it must’ve reduced the whole thing to plasma. It was almost inconceivable.

He was already screaming out the full retreat call when the ship fired twice in rapid succession at the Rictus, which was still recovering from what had just happened to its partner. The first shot was dead through the center. The second hit some target a few dozen meters off to the side.

A direct hit on an escape pod. Apparently, the captain had tried to save himself. Even in the mortal terror that he felt at that moment, Aggral could take a grim satisfaction at that second shot. To leave all the men that followed you to their deaths was a cowardice that he could not bear to consider. He would rather die.

And now, he was going to. Jump was fifteen seconds away, and the console was telling him that the ship was pinged. They knew where he was, they had him in their crosshairs, and they were going to pull the trigger.

He traced a finger over the purple scar absentmindedly. This was it. He’d been living on borrowed time since that first wound, and now he was to meet his ancestors.

He was ready.

---

Dalton was wincing, even as he maintained his ping on the ship. He knew that Elizabeth was just doing her job, but even by his admittedly bloodthirsty standards, there was something fucked up about keeping a ship in ping like this. It was like forcing someone to look you in the eyes before you slit their throat. Way too personal for his tastes.

Elizabeth was keeping an eye on the craft, making sure that no escape pods were jettisoning. Part of her was hoping that some would, but whatever other faults these pirates had, they were loyal to each other at least. As the ultraviolet scanners gave the telltale flair of redshift, she told Dalton to turn off the ping.

To say he was relieved was an understatement. In the middle of a firefight, he couldn’t question Elizabeth’s orders, but for the first time in a long time, he’d been afraid to pull the trigger. Now he didn’t have to.

He almost slid out of his chair as he asked the question that had been on his mind since the engagement began.

“Mam, what the hell was that?”

Elizabeth smiled warmly at her very surprised crew even as her words came out, cold as ice.

“A message.”

---

Thanks for reading this far! I'm moving my previous works from reddit to here. If you follow me, more will come. If you're impatient, you can skip to the source and read things at https://www.reddit.com/user/InBabylonTheyWept/

[puddle-nerd]

Eternity

Summary: You had already been his love. Now was just the ceremony to make it official to everyone else and the bonding at the Tree of Souls afterwards.

Prompt #13 for my submission for #𝐂𝐫𝐲𝐛𝐚𝐛𝐢𝐞𝐬𝟏𝟒𝐃𝐎𝐋𝟐𝟎𝟐𝟒

Story Tags: No use of Y/N, Female Reader, Female Recombiant Reader, Omatikaya | Blue Flute Clan, Na’vi Culture, Na’vi Biology, Na’vi Language, Established Relationship, Wedding Ceremony, Wedding Night

So far, the other posts have been rated G or maybe PG if you squint. This one is going to be for mature audiences with a steamy scene towards the end. I will clearly mark it so you know where it picks up in maturity levels. However, we’ll also be covering, at least a little, the Omatikayan wedding ceremony of an Olo’eyktan and while the reader isn’t going to be Mo’at’s replacement, it was touched on that the Tsahìk and the Olo’eyktan don’t always have to be married; it just usually happens that way.

This is also meant to be a part two of Lean on Me but at least a year, to a year and a half later. Spider is a little older, our reader has made the soul transfer into her Avatar body permanently, and now she’s getting married to the love of her life.

I also stole a couple of @eywaite’s phrases from at least one of her Tumblr posts, which you can see in the translation below.

Na’vi Translation: Irayo, oeyä’itan – thank you, my son ⁂Kalin – sweet to the taste⁂ Kuru – neural queue Mowan – pleasing/enjoyable (physically, sexually) Muntxatan – husband | male spouse ⁂Oh, ma Eywa! Kehe ftang – Oh, Eywa! Don't stop⁂ Olo’eyktan – clan leader (gender neutral) ⁂Rutxe nìtam, new oe nga – enough please, I need you⁂ Sa’nu – mum | mom | mommy Sempu – dad | daddy ⁂Syor – relax⁂ Tsaheylu – neural bond made through the connection of two neural queues Tsahìk – the spiritual leader of a Na’vi clan, and the most important member next to the clan leader Yawntutsyìp – darling | little loved one

AO3 Link

Part 1

Part 3

You knew he didn’t quite understand why there was going to be a celebration for you and Tsu’tey today, though the little boy did understand the word ‘wedding’… kind of… being all of four-years-old because he knew you and your beloved both had promised and often reiterated that pledge to love him unconditionally and take care of him and raise him up together as you had been doing into a man of honor of The Omatikayan People no matter what trials and tribulations you all might face. And you did. You loved Miles “Spider” Socorro as if you yourself had given birth to him. And everyone within the clan certainly knew Tsu’tey adored the child if the Olo’eyktan continuous doting was anything to go by. You figured it would also take Spider some time to understand that your consciousness would no longer be bouncing back and forth between two bodies, having been there to witness your second rebirth from the circle of Trudy’s arms as you transferred yourself permanently into this body about a fortnight prior in preparation for today. You smoothed down the front of your beaded loincloth and Spider’s little, cherub face showed that he was clearly pleased to see you finished getting all dressed up in your beautiful new finery behind his oxygen mask, his grin so bright it could rival the sun, making grabby hands towards your towering, sapphire skinned figure. You automatically picked up your adopted son into your thin, striped arms and held the young child against your front, pulling the small boy in so you could rub your blueberry-colored lips through his freshly washed curls, the ones that weren’t tamped down by the straps of his mask. He giggled at the ticklish feeling and squealed, “Sa’nu!” Even after a year of him calling you that, it still made you light up with a beaming smile. You chuckled at his protest and pulled back, smiling down at the little human boy fondly. “~You look beautiful, Sa’nu~!” Spider gushed in English, leaning forward, and tugging on your woven chest covering and peering at the glittering stones you had painstakingly threaded together to make your wedding ceremony attire. “Irayo, oeyä’itan,” you replied softly in the Na;vi language as you and Tsu’tey agreed to have a bilingual home. You glanced up at Mo’at and Neytiri as the two other women came into view within the Sully matriarch’s kelku where you had come to get ready for your wedding. “And thank you,” you told the older female Na’vi happily, “for washing up this, little terror for me.” You tickled your son’s side, laughing at his answering squeal of delight. “Unfortunately, I give it an hour before he’s waist deep in dirt or mud again.” Mo’at chuckled and trailed a finger down Spider’s back with a fond smile. “He knows to behave for his grandmother. Is that not correct, little boy?” Spider agreed, nodding emphatically, and beaming up happily at Mo’at from behind his mask. Across the hut, Neytiri’s pointed ears flicked back as she took in you and her mother cuddling the human child, even now still a little angered by his constant presence within her village and what he represented (especially with his heritage) but not willing to spoil your day. Or, more accurately, Tsu’tey’s, since she was more his friend than yours. And for that, you were thankful, especially since she was getting close to expelling her second biological child’s chrysalis from her body soon and you didn’t want to upset her and cause her to push out the fetus early and disrupt its growth. “It is time,” Mo’at announced, and you nodded. Looking at your son, you announced, “Time for your Sempu and I to officially get married. Ready, baby boy?” He squealed with glee, clapping his hands.

𖥸 · ─────── · 𖥸 · ─────── · 𖥸

Tsu’tey was a vision that you couldn’t draw your eyes away from. Colorful beads – brighter and more elaborate than his everyday yellow and red carved wood – decorated his dark braids in a multitude of dyes. Bright feathers of bright greens and honey-yellows had been pushed into his hair into what almost resembled a crown. His battle belt encircled his trim waist, his dagger at his hip and a brand-new loincloth of bright red brushed his thighs, green and honey-yellow embroidery decorating the hem. Upon his chest, four painted handprints in different ochres coated his skin, one from either of his parents, one from his younger brother, and one from his grandfather. Woven armbands of those same bright beads encircled each of his lean biceps and his familiar choker necklace sat around his neck. His last gift from Sylwanin. You felt no jealousy at seeing it, no; instead, you were pleased he was honoring his first love as she had given you her blessing when Tsu’tey had brought you to the Tree of Voices before he had asked you to mate with him and she had hinted that had she survived, she might have happily been in the union with you.

You blushed at the memory of her teasing but intertwined your hands with Tsu’tey’s as Mo’at presided over the proceedings to officially bind you and the Olo’eyktan.

Tsu’tey’s parents stood behind him, arms raised in blessing to Eyway, though they didn’t actually look pleased with his choice of bride. Jake stood behind you as your parents weren’t on Pandora, nor would they ever be, his arms also raised in blessing as Toruk Makto. And Spider, not to be forgotten, stood as tall as a four-year-old could between you and Tsu’tey, a chubby hand raised high on either one of your shins, which had caused a few chuckles when he had escaped Neytiri and come to join you all. Before all of the clan, you and Tsu’tey exchanged vows to honor, protect, and love each other even after death until Eywa was no more, promising to remain steadfast and faithful during both good and bad times and to never give up on each other. Spider agreed full heartedly to more chuckles. Jake and Ateyo, Tsu’tey’s father produced cloths of green and gold and red and tied of your and Tsu’tey’s palms together after a cut was made on each of you, your blood mixing together as it would, should you eventually decide to have biological children, in the future. Then, Arvok, Tsu’tey’s younger brother who had been stood behind his parents, produced both a drinking gourd and a small loaf of bread, which you and your groom shared, having to placate your son when he wanted some too. Your muntxatan, your husband – Tsu’tey was now your spouse, you thought gleefully – the beautiful, wonderful man that he was, gave a small bite to the young boy with a grin, cheeks coloring slightly as you beamed at him, eyes becoming shiny with happy tears.

Finally, your union was sealed with a kiss and the Tsahìk concluded the wedding rites, the clan erupting into loud ovations, cheering and whooping noisily.

It was a bit of a blur after that.

Feasting and dancing and kissing. Those you remembered… partially. And lots of congratulations sent yours and Tsu’tey’s way. Spider was fed, eating from both your meal and your muntxatan’s and eventually taken off to bed in the nearby shack specifically made for him to be close by for your and Tsu’tey’s benefit by an amorous Trudy and Norm who had promised you both to make sure the four-year-old was watched over for the night. When the moons were at their highest points, you and your love slipped away to head to the Tree of Voices for the last step.

Giggling, hand-in-hand, you went together under the lilac glowing tree and sighed, kissing and touching upon each other in chaste ways, though you knew it would become filthy shortly. He led you to a secluded little alcove and pulled you down onto your knees, his breath washing over your face as he took you in.

“You are so beautiful, Yawntutsyìp,” he whispered to you before leaning in nuzzle his cheek against your own, marking you with his scent. “And you are all mine.” You nodded, rubbing against him in turn and breathing in his scent deeply, trying to tattoo it into your senses and never let him go. Then his lips turned towards you, and he kissed you, softly at first before the hunger set it. Then, he seemed set to devour you, his tongue plundering your mouth, his sharp teeth nibbling at your lip, his hands grasping tightly at you and not wanting to release you. But you were just as bad, moving your mouth from his and down to his neck, nibbling, kissing, and sucking upon his skin there, determined to leave marks for all to see tomorrow and feeling yourself get wet as he panted and moaned for you, fingers greedily digging into your hips and thighs. When you began to massage him through his loincloth, feeling him harden beneath your five-fingered touch, his control began to snap. “Yawntutsyìp, rutxe nìtam, new oe nga,” he begged.

You chuckled to yourself and pulled away from him, pouting as he desperately pulled your chest covering away, a few of the strands breaking and the beads scattering over the ground in his haste to bare your skin to his gaze, only to whine as his lips secured themselves around one of your nipples.

You moaned his name and allowed your fingers to busy themselves with removing the feathers from his braids as he suckled upon you like a babe trying to nurse, his teeth skittering the edge of your nipples and sending little thrills of pain-pleasure through your senses. When there was no more plumage to remove from his scalp, your fingers trailed down his striped back to the base of his spine and your gently wrapped your fingers around the base of his tail. He stiffened as you found a cluster of nerves there and pressed ever so gently, causing his cock to pulse where it pressed into your leg.

“Syor. I have you,” you teased him.

He nipped at your nipple in response before lowering his body further down yours and making short work of your own loincloth and baring you to his gaze entirely. He growled, hungrily, “Mowan, yawntutsyìp.” He lowered his mouth to your cunt and licked up the seam of your lower lips and groaned. “Kalin… better than anything I have ever tasted.” He then gently delved two fingers inside of you, feeling your inner walls contract tightly around the intruding digits as he lapped at the sensitive bud above and set a deliberately slow rhythm to tease you and heighten your need. Your hips began to rock up into his touch and his tongue, forcing his other hand to press down on your hip and restrict you from bruising his face. He chuckled at your needy whine. “Syor, yawntutsyìp. I have you,” he threw back at you.

You flipped him off the human way, earning an eyeroll before he began to suck on your clit.

You came quickly after that, his fingers curling in just the right way to have your torso going rigid, toes curling as your orgasm washed over you like a wave at the beach. Your jaw went slack and your mouth opened with a blissful moan as you rode the waves of pleasure that radiated from your core at Tsu’tey’s behest.

The male Na’vi eased away from your lower half and then leaned over you, enticing you to kiss him and taste yourself upon his tongue. You moaned and clung to him with one hand, the other working him free of his loincloth. He was hot as the center of a roaring fire and as hard as stone in your hand. He groaned as you stroked him and silently begged you for mercy, nipping at your lower lip. You spread your legs further and guided him to your entrance. He slid his cockhead agonizingly slowly against your core, gathering your wetness and coating himself with the proof of your want for him. You met his gaze and nodded, drawing one of your legs over his hip and slotting him where you needed him most.

The air punched out of your lungs as your cunt stretched to accommodate Tsu’tey’s girth, a groan escaping you as your slick, tight heat enveloped his thick cock. “~Oh, fuck~,” you whined, accidently slipping into English. “~So big. Give me a second. ~”

Tsu’tey smirked, chest puffing up slightly in masculine pride, even as he rolled his hips to ease himself slowly but surely further inside of your channel. Balancing on his elbows, he buried his head into your neck as his pelvis finally became flush with yours, your slick dribbling out of you and down his balls, reveling in the bliss of being connected with you in such a way and allowing your body to get used to your intrusion. When you began to move beneath him, he carefully slid back a bit before driving back inside of you. You gasped at the sensation, better than anything you might have felt with a human. Perhaps it was because he was so big. Or maybe it was because you truly loved him. You met each of his thrusts with a roll of your own hips, soft cries coming from your throat as your pleasure began to mount again. You grasped onto his back and accidently scored his back with red welts when you raked down his spine, your core pulsing where they were joined; you knew your orgasm was fast approaching.

Your muntxatan’s breaths were harsh by your ear, his hips wildly shoving into your as he neared his own end. You felt incredible, pleasure coursing through your veins like pulses of fiery heat and you could feel the coil inside your belly building a climax by winding tighter and tighter within you.

You locked your ankles at the small of his back to deepen the angle, crying out, “Tsaheylu, please. Oh, ma Eywa! Kehe ftang and make tsaheylu with me!”

He grunted and jerked his head to bring his kuru over his shoulder. Reaching for yours, the pink tendrils seemed to strain towards one another and then your pleasure doubled, and you climaxed with a cry, head thrown back, face contorting into a scream of ecstasy, your core squeezing the cock within you like a vice. His hips faltered and he came within your walls with a burst, a groan spilling from his lips as he shoved his pelvis as tightly against yours as possible, his seed discharging within your depths in thick spurts. You could feel his pleasure echoing back at you and shivered as he nestled into your side, his arms giving out finally. With sweat soaked limbs, you snuggled your face against his forehead, kissing him between the eyes and panting heavily as your orgasms ran its course.

“We are now one,” Tsu’tey whispered, his breath fanning over your breast. “We are mated before Eywa for all of eternity.”

You giggled, teasing, “Can’t get rid of me now.”

𖥸 · ─────── · 𖥸 · ─────── · 𖥸

Originally Posted: 13 February 2024 Word Count: 2,268

@crybabies-heart, @cryingwhilereading, @ikeyniofthetayrangi, @erenjaegerwifee, @bambithewriter, @lloreya

AO3 Link

Part 1

Part 3

[doxypsychlean]

Aegon II Targaryen x reader who is manipulative and uses the motherly love he never got to get her own way. They both love each other but in a toxic yandere kinda way 😂

Wrapped around your finger

Yandere!Aegon ii Targaryen x Yandere!Reader

Headcanons|

Warnings: none? pls tell me if I've missed sth

Thou shan't repost/copy/ translate any of my work or I'll sneak into your home late at night and bite your nose off!

English isn't my first language. I don't proofread. I slap commas wherever I feel they're needed.

A/N: Aegon and Halaena aren't together in this one. It's also pretty sweet, despite their ?yandere? tendencies.

Oh, he really thinks he's that good.

Then you come around.

You, a lady of noble descent and a member of one of the greater houses in Westeros, are also one of his greatest rivals when it comes to having the worst reputation in all the realms.

At first, it's just harmless fun. Nothing too serious.

But then you become a witness to the way his family treats him.

You work your way into his heart and head. I mean, who in their right mind would miss out on the opportunity of being Queen of Westeros one day, amirite?

He bites the bait pretty quickly.

Aegon is obsessed with the way you shower him with affection and love.

He'd be spending most of his time in your arms, begging for you to tell him how much you love, how unfair his mother is to him.

Alicent hates you at first.

The hatred turns to admiration with time, seeing as you gain complete control over her son and mold him to your liking.

But there's more to what she's feeling towards you- fear. With the way things are going, all it would take is for you to snap your fingers and Aegon would kill them all. For you.

You never do, thank the Gods, and for that you have the Queen's utmost respect and gratitude.

She never lays a hand on him again. She doesn't have to, but she's also too scared to do it.

He still drinks, maybe not as much as he did before, but he no longer chases after the servant girls. As if you'd even allow it to happen.

The first time you realize what you feel for him might be actual love, is when you order for some noble lady to be "displaced" from the Red Keep. You didn't like the way she stared at him. Cue, girly losing her eyes for that one.

He was yours and the only way to get him away would be to pull him out of your cold fingers. And you had no intention of dying any time soon.

Aegon rarely goes out of the Red Keep anymore and when he does, you're always with him. The Prince has glued himself to you, whether you like it or not.

On the rare occasions of you two not being present in the castle, golden scales could be seen shimmering high above King's Landing. Sunfyre loves you, the golden beast could feel the strong bond between his rider and you.

Expect lots of expensive gifts- lavish dresses, the rarest perfumes from Essos, jewelry, books, horses, ginormous bouquets of your favorite flowers, commissioned portraits of you two, gold, sweets, etc.

You want it? You'll have it. Simple as that.

He'd never thought of himself as a jealous man, but the second he sees his brother talking to you and you laughing... All Seven Hells break loose.

Aegon turns into a sniveling, whining mess, hands wrapping around you as if his life depends on it.

All the while shooting daggers at Aemond behind your back, daring him to come closer so he could claw his remaining eye out.

Few soft words from you and he's melting.

You love him. He loves you. Everything is more than fine. He completely forgets about Aemond, who's slowly backing away from you two.

You get married not long after. Neither one of your families is brave enough to say a word against the union, seeing as ...

You absolutely never tried to hide it from the public.

You're all over eachother for the most of it.

Both men and women are dropping like flies around you, if they just as much as stared at either of you for a second too long.

Both yours and his family are equally scared and would rather keep away, than try and separate you.

Word spreads around quickly. You're with child.

Aegon's over the moon. You're his. He's yours. Completely.

The prove pops out not long after. Then another. And another.

He would 100% elbow the midwife in the face if she tries to keep him away from you while you're giving birth.

"My Prince, you cannot..."

"Out of my way, you old hag, my wife is in there!"

He was there while you were making them, he has every right to be there while you squeeze them out.

Definitely cries his ass off when he holds your firstborn.

His tunic is discarded quickly as he holds the small bundle close to his bare chest.

Then he wraps one hand around you, almost crushing your neck with how strong he's squeezing you.

Same thing goes down every single time- he storms in, kid comes out, he's bawling his eyes out at the sight.

You pick the dragon eggs for each and every one of them together.

Aegon's just as obsessed with your children, as he is with you.

Gods forbid someone makes one of his little bundles of joy cry...Heads will be flying in all directions, no matter who they belong to.

Not even the Stranger would be able to pull you apart.

Even in death, you'd find a way to be back together.

[eundiarys]

LABYRINTH — ❪ TOMORROW X TOGETHER SMAU SERIES INSPIRED BY TAYLOR SWIFT SONGS ❫

info— hellooo welcome to my first ever series! this series will be txt socmed aus inspired by taylor swift songs, i hope u enjoy ^_^ please note that this isn’t the actual representation of the idols, and that this is merely for entertainment!

THE WAY I LOVED YOU, CHOI YEONJUN 𖦹

pairing — choi yeonjun x fem! reader.

warnings — will be added on every chapter.

extended summary — not being to get over your highschool ex even after he broke your heart is horrible. that’s understandable, especially since he was your first everything. but yn has decided that it’s time to get out of her shell and date again! lucky for her, there’s a perfect candidate for that as her company’s president son is head heels for her. but what if it doesn’t work? what if she still longs for the way he loved her? and what happens if he feels the same?

genre — fluff, angst, crack, socmed, non idol!au academic rivals, enemies to lovers, highschool au (flashback), opposites attract, second chance romance, exes to lovers, etc.

short teaser / masterlist ( ONGOING )

CRUEL SUMMER, CHOI SOOBIN 𖦹

pairing — choi soobin x fem! reader.

warnings — will be added on every chapter.

extended summary — summer when you were 17 was the best and worst time of your life, filled with memories you aren’t sure how you feel about. having a summer “fling” is fun until those feelings start to grow. and you know that summer was your favourite season before he left. now that he’s back into your life, will that change?

genre — fluff, angst, crack, socmed, non idol! au, she fell first he fell harder, second chance romance, etc.

short teaser / masterlist ( COMING SOON )

CARDIGAN, CHOI BEOMGYU 𖦹

pairing — choi beomgyu x fem! reader.

warnings — will be added on every chapter.

extended summary — beomgyu was once your everything, and now he is simply just a memory that you want to forget. you both were young and stupid, but for some reason your heart still belongs to him. this time, you are determined change your ending with him to a happy one. but will that actually happen?

genre — fluff, angst, crack, socmed, non idol! au, one sided love, second chance romance, etc.

short teaser / masterlist ( COMING SOON )

ENCHANTED, KANG TAEHYUN 𖦹

pairing — kang taehyun x fem! reader.

warnings — will be added on every chapter.

extended summary — taehyun and yn was known as the inseparable duo ever since kindergarten. and now they are in college. yn also has been in love with taehyun for 7 years, and wants to move on because she knows taehyun will never look at her that way. but when yn goes on a date with a guy taehyun realises that he doesn’t like that idea. a bit too much.

genre — fluff, angst, crack, socmed, non idol! au, college au, she fell first he fell harder, etc.

short teaser / masterlist ( COMING SOON )

YOU BELONG WITH ME, HUENING KAI 𖦹

pairing — huening kai x fem! reader.

warnings — will be added on every chapter.

extended summary — which one is more miserable? being in love with your best friend 10 years and never being able to confess because you don’t want to ruin your friendship or the fact that he’s now interested in having a relationship and wants to go on dates with people on the campus? answer is both. when yn decides to stop liking kai, her friends don’t agree with the idea. her friends and kai’s friends have decided to show kai that what he’s looking for has been here this whole time.

genre — fluff, teeny bit angst, crack, socmed, non idol! au, college au, childhood best friends to lovers.

short teaser / masterlist ( COMING SOON )

© eundiarys 2023

( please don’t copy, translate, repost on any other app, or take inspo any of my works without permission! )

jules notes 📝 FINALLY POSTING THIS!!! hope ur all excited im jumping in joy rn

IMPORTANT ‼️ — (1) first of all, im super thankful for @sakuzleaves for making the amazing banners u should all follow her and check out her works because she’s so talented 🥹 <3 (2) taglists are open by smau that is posted, no reservations or anything. (3) taglists for all smaus of this series are open. and for individual masterlist/smau that is being posted are limited to two batches only~ first come first serve i guess! (4) idk when this will start but i hope you guys are as excited as i am >3<

taglist — @zuyairus @ddenoudepression @sserafimez @ox1-lovesick @reverbtunes @vernonweb @flwoie @ja4hyvn @xiaoderrrr @galaxyhalloes @j4y-lvr @taegyuul @trsrina @fairyytyunn @r7yu @taekwondoes @pleasetellmenow @nshimura @soobin-chois @jinsquishes @sakuzleaves @bomugf @ox1-lovesick @eulris @bunnystrm @haknom @txtbrainrot @bluebearybeom @cherriegyu @snowfalltxt @boba-beom @hyeinszn @liyaliar @wonioml @lvrjjun @luvsoobs @strawbrinkofdeath @cecedrake2217 @soobswvrld @yenqa @adajoemaya @cookiehaos @captivq @captivq

[rejectedfables]

I think often about Jin Guangyao’s “[I murdered] my father, my (older) brother, my wife, my son, my teacher, my friend” quote. I think about how Jin Guangyao, a man known for self effacing politeness to the point of taking blame and shame onto himself to alleviate the tempers of others, in this moment takes complete responsibility for "murders” that he absolutely did not commit. And I think about how the audience both in the story and outside it, take his words at face value.  

I think there are multiple ways of interpreting who this quote is about. Obviously Father = Jin Guangshan, Wife = Qin Su, Son = Jin Rusong, those are clear. I think (older) Brother could either be Nie Mingjue or Jin Zixuan. I think "teacher” could be Wen Rouhan or Nie Mingjue. Friend could be Nie Mingjue, Su Minshan, or Xue Yang.

So I think the ONLY options for [brother, teacher, friend] (in that order) are: 

NMJ, WRH, and SMS

NMJ, WRH, and XY

JZX, NMJ, and SMS

JZX, NMJ, and XY

JZX, WRH, and NMJ

JZX, WRH, and SMS

JZX, WRH, and XY

I also saw a translation where he said “friends” plural, which would reduce the list to:

NMJ, WRH, XY and SMS

JZX, NMJ, XY and SMS

JZX, WRH, SMS and NMJ

JZX, WRH, XY and NMJ

JZX, WRH, XY and SMS

However, given the importance of his relationship with NMJ, I feel like we can safely eliminate any that exclude NMJ entirely. Similarly, there cannot be characters mentioned here who are unnamed or unknown to the reader, as that wouldn’t make any Doylist sense. We are left with a list that consists of Nie Mingjue, either WRH or JZX or both, and possibly XY and/or SMS. 

Regardless of which of those combinations you use, he did not directly OR EVEN DELIBERATELY murder everyone on that list. Let’s go through them:

Jin Guangshan: Yes, he deliberately ordered and orchestrated his father’s death. Outstanding, earned, poetic, no notes. (Okay maybe SOME notes, but like, listen. Listen.) 

Qin Su: Qin Su killed herself. In the animation, Jin Guangyao used the skull-piercing nails to force her suicide, but this is not canon to the novel. Bicao claims that Jin Guangyao must have killed her to silence her, despite her suicide having many witnesses (including us! the readers!), but Wei Wuxian (who WAS THERE) speculates that she couldn’t handle the reality of her marriage, as illuminated to her BY Bicao, or the prospect of societal shame if it got out. However, even IF “your actions drove her to suicide” were the rubric here, that’s still not quite the same as “you murdered her”, nor does it seem to be the outcome he was hoping or planning for. “JGY murdered her” is factually inaccurate, and a blatant propaganda tactic being used against him-- but perhaps it felt emotionally true to HIM because he’s grieving his DEAD WIFE and he FEELS responsible.

Nie Mingjue: JGY spent something like 5+ years suffering physical and verbal abuse and explicit threats of death by Nie Mingjue, then was tasked with killing Nie Mingjue by his father. He did so in a sneaky way, so as to not endanger himself further or get punished for (or perhaps cause an inter-sect conflict/war by) killing the leader of a rival sect.

Wen Rouhan: JGY stabbed him in all adaptations, A+, war hero.

Jin Zixuan: JGY, on his father’s orders, orchestrated a situation that led to Jin Zixuan’s death. We cannot know for SURE that JGY wasn’t aiming for his death but we CAN say that “Wei Wuxian accidentally compelling Wen Ning to kill the ONE GUY PRESENT Wei Wuxian did NOT want to kill” (OR “WN killing JZX of his own accord against WWX’s orders”) would have been a weird bet to make. This seems highly unlikely to have been JGY’s goal, but it was certainly caused by a situation he created. He also did not actually literally kill the guy.

Su Minshan: Su She died to protect Jin Guangyao from Nie Mingjue’s fierce corpse. Jin Guangyao is only “responsible” for this in the vaguest or terms and worst faith of interpretations. Technically Su She wouldn’t have died there if not for JGY on multiple levels (wouldn’t have had to protect him, NMJ’s fierce corpse being JGY’s fault, wouldn’t have been present at all if JGY hadn’t summoned him there, etc.), but if Jin Guangyao describes this as “I murdered him” that’s... a stretch. Again, like with Qin Su, this feels like something he might say because he FEELS responsible, rather than because he actually is.

Xue Yang: JGY ordered Xue Yang’s execution (or possibly ordered a fake execution, but this seems less likely) directly before he fled, injured, to Yi City. He did not die here. Later, after reconnecting and while still following Jin Guangyao’s orders, Xue Yang was killed by other people in opposition to Jin Guangyao’s wishes and plans. Again, TECHNICALLY Xue Yang would not have died when he did were it not for Jin Guangyao, but describing it as “Jin Guangyao murdered him” is QUITE a stretch. Due to the title of the “Villainous Friends” extra, which is about JGY and XY specifically, XY seems the most likely candidate to me for “Friend” in this quote, which is bizarre because I think his death is actually the LEAST connected to Jin Guangyao. Jin Guangyao wasn’t even present, nor did Xue Yang die FOR Jin Guangyao-- just on his payroll. BUT perhaps he still felt guilty for ORDERING his execution, and simply his willingness to HAVE Xue Yang killed counted enough to make the list.

I’ll get to the last one, but I’m pausing here to say: What all of this means is that no matter who is or isn’t on that list, it is NOT an objective list of factual murders. It is a list of people who’s deaths Jin Guangyao FEELS RESPONSIBLE FOR.

Even before we get to who counts as teacher, brother, or friend, even JUST his wife solidifies this. But it isn’t JUST her either-- even if we cut SMS and XY (the other two BIG stretch candidates) from the equation, that leaves us ONLY with NMJ(friend), WRH(teacher), and JZX(brother). And Jin Zixuan is the other one that really should not make the list of people JGY “murdered”.

This is a list of people who’s deaths Jin Guangyao FEELS RESPONSIBLE FOR.

Which brings us to the last one:

Jin Rusong: The quote (I believe this is a fan translation, but not sure) "One of the opposing sect leaders lost the arguments [about the watchtowers], and went into a murderous rage, killing Jin Guangyao and Qin Su’s only son. The boy had always been a good child and the couple had loved him dearly. Under resentment, Jin Guangyao tore down the entire sect in revenge” is, to my knowledge/memory, the only real account we’re given of what happened. “Lost the arguments and went into a murderous rage” doesn’t sound like the child was found dead some time later, and they had to investigate. It sounds like it happened in public, with witnesses, immediately. 

In the same scene where Bicao convinces an audience that Qin Su, who famously killed herself on screen in a room full of people with a (now) known motive for suicide, “must have” been murdered by Jin Guangyao-- in that same scene others speculate that Jin Rusong, who was famously killed by a political opponent in a “murderous rage” most likely DURING A CONFERENCE, “must have” been murdered by Jin Guangyao. 

I think "I angered an opposing sect leader so much that he killed my son" being translated by JGY into "I killed my son" is EXACTLY IN LINE with the rest of his list. How is that different than "I ordered Xue Yang's assassination, and later put him in a situation that caused others to kill him" being translated to "I killed my friend"? Or “Su She died to protect me” being translated to “I killed my friend”? Or “I didn’t anticipate my brother’s unwitting involvement in a covert operation would get him accidentally killed, which no one wanted, not even the guy who did it” being translated to “I killed my brother”? Or “I tried to protect my pregnant fiancé/wife from a horrible secret I only just learned, which would ruin her life, and when someone confronted her with it TO HARM ME she couldn’t live with it and killed herself” being translated to “I killed my wife”? It’s the same!

I do not believe that Jin Guangyao killed Jin Rusong. I believe “I murdered my son” is an example of the way that Jin Guangyao speaks about himself-- always taking the maximum responsibility onto his own shoulders. If he was in any way responsible, than he was completely responsible. If he FEELS responsible, then he MAY AS WELL have murdered them.

The context of when he says this quote also matters towards how we interpret it’s meaning. He was already attempting to flee the country, aware that the cultivation world was actively turning on him for crimes that he did AND DIDN’T commit. He was surrounded by people he thought cared about him, all of whom seemed determined to stop him from achieving a safe exit. He had had all the horrible things he felt responsible for (regardless of how directly or deliberately he was involved in those events) thrown in his face by said loved ones, while they looked at him with horror. Su Minshan had just been killed trying to PROTECT HIM, and now it looked like it had been for nothing anyway. Huaisang, who he is shown as doting upon throughout their decades long relationship, has just manipulated Lan Xichen (do I even have to go into how important Lan Xichen is to him? Please say no, please say this much at LEAST is universally understood) into BEING THE ONE to STAB HIM. 

In this moment, he believes that he’s going to die, and be reviled in death by society and his loved ones alike. He knows there’s nothing left he can say or do, he hasn’t had time to process Su She’s death, and Lan Xichen has JUST (accidentally) betrayed him (which he also hasn’t had time to process). 

And also, notably, he had very recently been IN POSSESSION of the TIGER TALLY. 

AND HE’S BEEN STABBED! To my memory this scene happens while he’s missing an arm and LAN XICHEN’S sword is still INSIDE HIS GUTS. His emotions and reasoning are probably NOT the most calm or rational right now (blood loss, pain, fear, grief, influence of the tiger tally, etc.), and this “confession” should be taken with that in mind. 

I just think a lot about how “I murdered [everyone I’ve loved except for you]” is such a raw and telling line, given the context. Even if it’s more like “I murdered [everyone I’ve owed devotion to except for you]”, that’s still so painful. He blames himself for all of it. All of it! The world celebrated Wen Rouhan’s death, but Jin Guangyao added it to his personal list. Jin Guangshan is arguably the most reprehensible character in the entire story, and ruined every part of Jin Guangyao’s entire life, but he’s on the list. He did everything in his power to protect Qin Su, and when she found out the truth he continued offering her ways he could protect her, but she chose to kill herself, and she’s on the list. He tried to improve the world with the watchtowers, and someone retaliated by murdering his son, and he claimed responsibility for that too.

He knew he was being blamed for their deaths, knew it was propaganda and slander and bad faith, but he blamed himself too. So he just... accepted it. I did it. It was me, I murdered them.

And so, so, so many people, in his world and in ours, were so, so eager to agree