#sorry also just like. what a justified anger it is

[cyanide-and-roses]

Vengeance and Valentines

Two-Face x Female Reader

⁽ᶜᵂ: ᵐᵘʳᵈᵉʳ, ʸᵃⁿᵈᵉʳᵉ ᶜᵒⁿᵗᵉⁿᵗ, ᵖᵒˢˢᵉˢˢⁱᵛᵉ ᵇᵉʰᵃᵛⁱᵒʳ⁾

(Author's note: this was originally a request for @yandere-wishes, but I accidentally deleted the original draft. My bad, I can be such a ditz. Anyways, happy Valentine's Day!)

You carefully inspected the image reflected in your vanity mirror. You had a date tonight, and your mind was filled to the brim with worry. Was your makeup good? Did your jewelry match your outfit? Was the dress you picked out good enough?

You take a deep breath.

"You look perfect." you told yourself, your reassuring smile reflected back at you.

You turn your attention to the alarm clock sitting across the room on your bedside table.

It's 6:00 PM. One hour before Harvey should be here.

"Maybe I should have waited a bit before I got ready." you sigh. Well, now you've got some time to kill. You grab a book from your bookshelf and go to sit on the edge of your bed.

You open the book and find yourself unable to focus on the words in the page, your mind still racing with worry.

"Are you putting yourself in danger by dating a known criminal?" You ask yourself.

Not only was he wanted by the police, but there's plenty of monsters who have a bone to pick with your lover. Sure, Harvey, as well as his alter Two-Face, wouldn't let any of them lay a finger in you, but you'd have to be stupid to ignore the fact that by associating with them, you're putting a target on your back.

Two-Face is also known to get jealous. You recall how a few weeks ago he snapped and threatened one of his henchmen because he believed they were ogling you. The poor bastard swore up and down that he was doing no such thing, but Two-Face wasn't having it. You had to talk him out of hurting the guy.

Even though it is obvious that what you're doing is dangerous, you're still hesitant to leave Harvey. You love him, after all, and you seem to have evaded misfortune so far. There's also a small part of you, a darker, maybe even masochistic side of you, that wants to find out how bad it can get.

You try to ignore all these thoughts racing around your mind but to no avail. Frustrated, you put down the book and look at the clock.

An hour and twenty minutes has passed.

"Where the hell is he?" you mutter in mild annoyance, before you hear a knock at the door. You quickly make your way out of your room and to the front door.

Upon opening the door, you are greeted by the sight of your darling in his usual two-toned suit, stained with blotches of deep red blood.

"Sorry I'm late," he begins to speak, ignoring the shocked expression on your face. "I forgot I had some last minute business to attend to."

"Harvey... you're..."

"Oh, right! The blood. Didn't have time to change. We'll just swing by my place before we head out to dinner." He takes you by the arm rather suddenly and leads you to his car which he parked in your driveway. He ushers you into the backseat, before he gets up front and starts the car.

Once the shock wears off a little, you gather up enough courage to ask what exactly is going on.

"Somebody's been getting too close to you for my liking." He explains, still very nonchalant about the very strange situation he's put you in. "You know that guy you work with? The chatty one?"

Dreads courses through your veins as you figure out what he's going to say next.

"He was just a coworker! You didn't need to kill the man!"

"Just a coworker? The man has been planning to ask you out for a while." Harvey justifies.

"How would you know that? What, have you been watching him? Going through his stuff? Fuck, even if he was going to ask me out, I would have just turned him down!"

Harvey's jaw clenches. You can tell you're starting to anger him.

"(Y/N), I trust you enough to know you won't leave me, but that doesn't mean I can stand idly by as somebody tries to steal you away. It doesn't matter that they won't succeed, it's the fact they even think about it in the first place." He says, trying to keep his voice as calm and steady as possible.

There's a silence between the two of you for a few minutes, before Two-Face speaks up.

"I could have been more brutal, you know? The bastard got lucky. If he lost the coin toss, I would've prolonged his death. He's lucky he just got a knife through the heart."

You don't respond.

"Look, I know what I did was drastic. I know I scared you, but I did it because I love you too much to risk losing you. Now, we're almost at my place. How about I get changed, then we enjoy our night out, okay? I'm sorry for worrying you."

Harvey waits for your response.

"Alright, babe... let's just get going." You sigh and force a smile.

You knew how dangerous loving this man could get. There's no backing out now. All you have to do is ignore the dread in your stomach and try to enjoy your special night out.

[sunnnfish]

“If you just do everything you’re supposed to do you’ll eventually end up where you need to be.” Infinity train book 4 you fuck me up so bad still. “You can mess up even if you stand still…” MIN-GI PARK…..

[st4rstudent]

i feel somewhat responsible for this, even if i��m not the one saying these things. I’m genuinely so sorry.

No need to apologize! It's not one singular person doing it and truth be told I don't think it's a large majority that thinks that (albeit the ones that do are quite vocal). I didn't mean to upset anyone or anything when complaining about it, I was just letting off some steam.

Having a yap session under the cut sorry I feel like rambling under your ask anon.

Admittedly, I do think there are reasonings for people thinking this way. A lot of the focus with Clash has been on the cogs, especially after the 1.3 update. Which I can't say I blame them! Managers were something new and exciting and (from what I can tell) really separated them from the other servers. I don't blame them for wanting to put focus on that because that was their thing. Alongside other things, but majorly when you hear Clash the managers are mentioned in someway shape or form. But as we all know, toons ended up taking the short stick from this. This isn't helped by the gameplay itself, being mainly a fetch-quest deal so you often only talk to npcs once or twice unless if they're repeated ones and the taskline wasn't entirely accessible on the wiki for a while (shoutout to the wiki maintainers. The taskline script is a savior). Which I'm quite excited to see if they deal with this issue with the rewrite. I imagine they will, but anyways. Social media posts would often contain more managers than toons, which I also believe they're starting to fix. And ontop of this, I believe most of the team in the early era of the sever is gone, so there's been some stuff lost in the change. So yeah, dialogue/writing has been kind of rocky. AGAIN- I am completely aware of the rewrite going on and I am not judging them harshly based off of their current state. I'm very appreciative of the fact that they took the time to listen and are focusing on trying to fix it up. And then there's also fandom mischaracterization- especially of the cogs. Forgive me for mentioning mischaracterization because normally I wouldn't really care (I've mischaracterized characters before..especially in my younger years. I think it's just a process of learning an having fun and I hate to limit anyone because of it). With that being said, there's a lot of baby-fying and coddling of the managers. Especially with those who have more 'sympathetic' stories (Misty, Chip, Winston specifically). Don't get me wrong, I like these characters and I can appreciate the story they're trying to tell, but I feel like so many people will hear their dialogue and then misplace their anger. People get mad at Bessie for trying to protect HER lighthouse or at the Elders for trying to keep YOTT safe (lets not forget Winston was there to brainwash toons). Yes, yes technically there would've been better ways to do it but consider this: The toons are scared. Their homes, stores, lives are being taken over by a big corporation that has more resources that they do. They don't have the privilege of waiting, seeing, and gathering. And then people forget that the company has such a huge role in both toons and cogs lives. If you're mad over the mistreatment of Misty or the fact that Winston is still in the dungeon, your anger should be directed at the company who doesn't care. I may be completely wrong in saying this, but I feel like the stories with almost all of the managers is a reflection of the company. The toons are only trying to protect themself and their environments and yet this seems to go forgotten when people start bashing them. And of course, I'd consider myself a toon guy so me saying all this and complaining may come off as "I HATE the cogs and everyone who posts only about them!" and for clarification that's not true. You all know how much I like that little brain thing. The cogs are interesting, their designs are fun, I don't blame people for liking them because I do too. I just wish that the thought process behind so many of these discussions wasn't so cog focused because I believe that this anger at the toons for, RIGHTFULLY, defending themselves helps push this mischaracterization of them as a whole. That they're mean, boring, unlikeable while the opposite is true. Yes there are some, what I'd consider, "filler" dialogue from the shopkeepers. This is just because of the gameplay. But there are some funny and cute moments with them if people would just listen and read.

Which also brings me into another point: people skip the dialogue. I've caught myself doing this before (on my first account. I have 4 accounts total, so I reread the dialogue on like 3 of them). But people will complain about lack of toon personalities while doing this. It's like reading through a comic book, only looking at the drawings, and then complaining because there "isn't a storyline". Luckily, there's been efforts to keep track of the dialogue on the wiki but I doubt a lot of people are going through and reading the entire script. It just feels very disingenuous to criticize the dialogue when you haven't even read it. Likewise, people don't seem to read the blogposts either. This is both from a dialogue aspect and from an update aspect (people continuously asking about hammerspace/mix-and-match under unrelated posts).

[angelsdean]

ruthlessly deleting old 2021/2022 posts (not by me) from my dean studies tag like *click* un-incorporating that from my beliefs system! also the way SO many posts have me like ok uh-huh good aaand then say one completely wrong thing that loses me. it's so many posts.

[elle-smells]

the worst kind of disease is thinking that bcs you are not the worst kind of racist, misogynist, homophobe, etc that somehow absolves you of any fault

[solosatan]

thinking about mc and satan bonding over shared identity issues post lilith reveal. i know this trope has been done to death but theres so much to do with it aghhhhhh

[caruliaa]

mamma mia two here we go again has lied to me one again (changed the lyrics to make me think that abba song was originally a parent talking to their child)

[ultimumvitae]

me at first: wow i really love how shadow is written in idw! it's not perfect but it's so much better!

me watching shadow be turned into a zombot: oh

[skyedancer-system]

Going into Poppy Playtime Chap. 4 I was not expecting to get halfway decent plural rep but here we are????

Spoilers for the new chapter under the cut, and also cw for all the general Poppy Playtime stuff (child death + experimentation, body horror, if you know the game you get the gist)

SO THIS GUY HUH

Doey the Doughman, the surprise character revealed just days before the chapter dropped and who finally answered the question of the red/orange/yellow hand imagery we’ve been getting teased with for so long

In the chapter himself he’s pretty important to the plot and is an ally to the player, Poppy, and Kissy for (most of) the chapter, and he’s a pretty nice guy just with a bit of a temper, and very overwhelmed by having to keep the Safe Haven together and protected in Poppy’s absence.

But his personal story? How he was created via Playtime Co.’s Bigger Bodies Initiative? Oh god it’s honestly one of the most messed up ones yet other than Yarnaby (and that’s saying something considering this is child experimentation we’re talking about, and Yarnaby lost his entire self and was treated like a straight up animal, isolated so he would love and obey Harley and only Harley)

Where most of the living toys were made from one child, Doey was made from three. Jack, a visitor to the factory that got caught in a freak accident and was taken into Playtime’s care for his medical recovery. Kevin, a problem child in the Playcare known for his anger issues. And Matthew, an extremely kind boy who tried to keep hopes up among all the orphans in the Playcare, and was a sort of leader to them.

And all three of them are still present in some form; at various points in the game you see them switch, speaking and thinking differently, with varying opinions on everything happening. And from the tape of the Jack’s parents seeing what Playtime did to their son, we see that the three have separate memories as well, at least they did when they were first put together.

And this plurality that was forced onto them isn’t played for scary points like you’d expect from a mascot horror game. Yes it is part of Doey’s monstrous design once they get upset, but them being upset is because everything they had worked to protect was destroyed by the Prototype. All of the other kids turned toys that had kept their consciousness and relied on Doey for protection, mercilessly killed. Anybody would be horrifically upset in that situation. And one of the three boys - Kevin - lashes out at the player, the other two trying to calm him down only for all of them to fall into anger and emotion.

You can clearly see the three kids; one angry, two sad, all of their emotions coming together into a grief induced rage, with physical pain only compounding it. And when you eventually have to kill them and put them out of their misery, their last words?

“I’m sorry.”

They were just kids; three kids forced into a horrible situation and having to learn to live with it. And for a long time it seems that they did, working together rather peacefully until their lives were upheaved by the arrival of the player and Poppy’s reappearance.

Kevin’s anger at everyone and the world is completely justified; I mean he and the other two were experimented on and then kept caged like animals, being practically forced to kill! He wanted to protect them; to avenge the countless others that had been killed by the Playtime scientists and the Prototype! And considering things only went to shit after the player and Poppy showed up? Well it’s no wonder that anger got directed at them

It it a super good depiction of plurality? No, not by a long shot. But it’s definitely way better than I would expect from a game like Poppy Playtime.

I was not expecting this post to get this long whoops fbsnbdns; if anyone else has anything they want to add though we’d love to hear it!

[rose24207]

Can I request something where reader and Mafia Lando are together and Reader gets like sick, and she brakes up with him because she doesn’t want to burden him with her sickness and she also doesn’t want him to be sad because of her but Lando figures it out when he looks into what she’s been doing and he gets suspicious when his guys tell him that readers been going to the hospital a lot. He also looks into her finances and sees she’s making big payment and when he finds out about her sickness he confronts reader at her apartment and she tells him but he promises to be there for her and to pay for the best treatment.

In sickness and in secrets

Summary: When you break up with Lando to protect him from your illness, he uncovers the truth, confronts you, and promises to stay by your side, ensuring you receive the best care and his unwavering love.

Genre: Mafia!Lando, angst, fluff

TW: sickness, breaking up

A/N: English is not my first language. I hope you enjoy it though! Requests are open and welcome!

Masterlist

The first time you met Lando Norris, it was in the most unconventional way possible—at the end of a loaded gun. You had stumbled into his life purely by accident, an unwitting witness to a deal gone wrong. Instead of pulling the trigger, though, Lando had taken one look at you, decided you weren’t a threat, and walked away.

That was two years ago. Now, you couldn’t imagine a world without him. The enigmatic and sharp-witted leader of an underground empire, Lando had always treated you with a rare tenderness that seemed at odds with his dangerous reputation. He was your safe harbor, your anchor in a stormy world.

But life had a cruel sense of humor.

When you’d first started feeling unwell, you had brushed it off as stress. It wasn’t until the symptoms worsened—intense fatigue, frequent headaches, and moments where your body simply didn’t seem to cooperate—that you finally sought medical advice. The diagnosis hit you like a freight train: a rare autoimmune disease, one that would require extensive treatment, medication, and constant management.

Your world crumbled, and with it, so did your relationship with Lando.

“You’re breaking up with me?” Lando’s voice was sharp, laced with disbelief as he stared at you across the living room of his penthouse.

You stood with your arms wrapped around yourself, the weight of the decision pressing down on you like a physical force. “It’s for the best, Lando.”

“For the best?” His brows furrowed, anger simmering beneath his calm façade. “Don’t give me that bullshit, Y/N. What’s really going on?”

“I just... I can’t do this anymore,” you said, your voice trembling. “I can’t be in your world. It’s too much.”

His jaw clenched, his piercing eyes scanning your face for the truth you weren’t telling. “After two years, you’re just realizing that?”

You bit your lip, tears threatening to spill. “I’m sorry.”

“Sorry isn’t enough.” Lando took a step closer, his voice dropping to a softer tone. “Talk to me. Whatever it is, we can fix it.”

You shook your head, your heart breaking as you turned away. “Not this time, Lando.”

He reached out, but you were already walking out the door.

For weeks, Lando tried to respect your decision, though it ate away at him. You had been his constant, the only person who saw past the walls he’d built around himself. He couldn’t fathom why you’d left so suddenly, especially when everything between you had seemed perfect.

When his men started reporting that you’d been visiting the hospital frequently, his suspicions grew. Lando was a man who thrived on control, and the lack of answers gnawed at him.

It wasn’t just the hospital visits. He’d had your finances investigated—a move that left him feeling slightly guilty, though he justified it by telling himself it was for your protection. What he found made his blood run cold. Large, frequent payments to a private medical facility.

Something was wrong.

The knock on your apartment door startled you. You weren’t expecting anyone, least of all *him*. But when you opened the door and saw Lando standing there, his dark eyes filled with a mixture of anger and concern, your stomach sank.

“We need to talk,” he said, his tone leaving no room for argument.

You stepped aside, your heart pounding as he walked into the small living room. He looked out of place in the modest space, his tailored suit and commanding presence a stark contrast to the worn furniture and cluttered coffee table.

“How did you—”

“Don’t,” he interrupted, turning to face you. “Don’t lie to me, Y/N. I know something’s going on. The hospital visits, the payments—what’s wrong?”

You froze, panic rising in your chest. “Lando, I—”

“Tell me,” he said firmly, stepping closer. “I know you. I know this isn’t about me or my world. So stop pushing me away and tell me the truth.”

You swallowed hard, tears welling in your eyes. There was no point in lying anymore. “I’m sick, Lando.”

His expression softened instantly, the anger draining from his face. “Sick? How?”

You sank onto the couch, your hands trembling as you explained. “I have an autoimmune disease. It’s... it’s not curable, but it’s manageable with treatment. It’s expensive, though, and it’s going to take a toll on me physically. I didn’t want to burden you with it.”

Lando sat down beside you, his eyes locked on yours. “Burden me? Is that what you think this is?”

“I didn’t want you to see me like this,” you whispered. “And I didn’t want you to feel like you had to take care of me. You have enough to deal with already.”

He reached out, cupping your face gently. “You’re not a burden, Y/N. You could never be a burden.”

You shook your head, tears streaming down your cheeks. “I didn’t want you to be sad because of me. I didn’t want you to watch me struggle.”

Lando’s thumb brushed away your tears as he leaned closer. “You don’t get to decide that for me. I love you. Do you hear me? I love you. And if you’re struggling, then we’ll struggle together. I’m not going anywhere.”

You let out a choked sob, leaning into his touch. “Lando, I—”

“No,” he said firmly, his voice steady. “No more pushing me away. No more secrets. I’m going to take care of you, whether you like it or not. And don’t even think about arguing, because you know I’ll win.”

Despite the tears, you let out a shaky laugh. “You’re impossible.”

“And you love me for it,” he said, pressing a soft kiss to your forehead. “We’ll get through this, Y/N. I’ll make sure you have the best treatment, the best doctors—whatever you need. You’re not doing this alone.”

For the first time in weeks, the weight on your chest began to lift. Lando’s unwavering determination and love gave you a glimmer of hope. Maybe, just maybe, you didn’t have to face this battle alone.

True to his word, Lando spared no expense in ensuring you received the best care possible. He accompanied you to appointments, held your hand during difficult moments, and made it his mission to keep you smiling even on the hardest days.

The world might have painted Lando Norris as a cold, ruthless leader, but you knew the truth. Beneath the tough exterior was a man who loved fiercely and unconditionally.

And as you sat together one evening, his arms wrapped around you as you watched the city lights from his penthouse, you realized that no illness could take away the bond you shared.

With Lando by your side, you knew you could face anything.

Thank you for reading!

[lyrefromthesea]

Since you lost your list of requests, I'll write mine again 😅. how hashiras would punish reader if they get on their nerves/make them jealous/disappointed them/etc.

Male Hashira x Reader - the punishment you deserve

pairing: Tengen x reader, Obanai x reader, Rengoku x reader, Sanemi x reader, Giyuu x reader, Gyomei x reader

content warning: slight angst?

Tengen:

• truthfully, i think he often gets upset about the smaller things in life. the decisions made in his family of four always have to be in sync with his wants and beliefs, otherwise he could get petty.

• his punishments are unspoken, nothing he really tries to force on other people. however, after Suma, Makio, Hina and you all vote against his plans, his mood immediately drops.

• the punishment you'll receive from him will not only influence you, but his other lovers as well. he's down and nothing is as he wants. he's not happy and through little acts and petty comments, his mood will become all of your moods too.

Obanai:

• he will ignore you. i would bet my right hand. this man will get upset over something either justified in every sense of the word or the most stupid act you'll ever see, because you can't influence it.

• don't get him wrong, he loves you and he's a gentle lover too, but not after you made his day turn out this way. Kaburamaru is not allowed on your shoulder anymore, he stays by his side or can get ignored just like you.

• he'll make a point out of seeing you enter a room and looking the other way, pretending like that wasn't fully intentional.

• however, he stops punishing you rather quickly, because he wants to spend time with you. punishing you is indirectly a punishment for him.

Rengoku:

• i think that Rengoku and you at least share one hobby that you both love. having thrown this into the room, it'll be a thing for the two of you to spend evenings together and live out that hobby.

• he doesn't punish you often, but he has a good reason when he does. his punishments aren't meant to hurt you either, it's more like your actions made him upset.

• he cancels your little hobby dates, saying that he doesn't want to do it in this state. the way he often sadly trots away makes you swiftly follow after him, resulting in a long talk about how certain things just aren't okay.

Sanemi:

• he's downright mean. he'll make a point out of mentioning what you did wrong every chance he gets until you apologize.

• you accidentally fall? "are you trying to make me jealous again? it's not working this time." expect that you hadn't tried to make him jealous to begin with. another person had complimented you and, like the fool you were, you blushed.

• he's a jealous man, and while he often knows how to hide it, he'll also have times to let his frustrations out in these kinds of "punishments"

• "i already said i'm sorry, Sanemi..!" your sad expression makes him pause, quietly apologizing for being rude and helping you up.

• he's jealous, not a monster.

Giyuu:

• just like Obanai, he'll probably ignore you. however, he does it subconsciously.

• there are certain things Giyuu just doesn't like and he'll get upset seeing you do them. the unwanted feeling of anger or sadness forces him to make a quick decision. ignore you or possibly hurt you with his words.

• he'll try to avoid you until he has grown calmer, less prone to acting on his emotions. it's just that you'll feel hurt by the time he finally talks to you again.

Gyomei:

• he's not the type for punishments, at least not for any kind of punishment that could harm you.

• i believe he only really gets upset in extreme cases like hurting other people, which you probably won't do or - the more likely scenario - when you do something reckless.

• he'll certainly tell you that he wasn't fond of your actions, not liking that you put yourself in danger.

• however, if you have an upcoming event with him, like training together, he will cancel it. it's not a punishment in his eyes, he just doesn't want you to get hurt. of course, you perceive the canceled time differently.

[peak-dumbass]

I know I just got done with ranting about tfp/rid2015 starscream’s character but, if you couldn’t tell by my other rid2015 posts, I’m obsessed with rid2015 bumblebee and when I tell you I love this scene of bumblebee making fun of starscream I’m not exaggerating it’s so cathartic to me

“But bumblebee is a good/hero character, why is he being so mean—” did you forget how much starscream hurt bumblebee in tfp?

He killed cliffjumper who, while probably not as close to bee as he was to arcee, was still close friends with bee

He stole the omega keys from the autobots’ base and handed them over to megatron, practically dooming Cybertron at the time to be remade in megatron’s image — of course the autobots get them back last minute, but that doesn’t change how much that loss effected all of them (evidence: optimus shouting in anger for the first and to my memory only time in the series) — including bumblebee

And his greatest offense towards bumblebee in my opinion—

DESTROYING BUMBLEBEE’S T-COG

“But it was silas and M.E.C.H. that took it in the first place—” HE DIDN’T NEED TO HELP SILAS USE IT AFTERWARDS “but Ratchet was able to fix it—” THAT DOESN’T GET RID OF THE TRAUMA THAT WHOLE EXPERIENCE CAUSED HIM

It’s also incredibly fucked once you think about it more because the t-cog is literally a cybertronian organ — while silas is at least mostly detached from how screwed this is since it’s more like taking parts from a robot than surgery to humans, starscream shouldn’t be since he’s also a cybertronian

Instead of being freaked out and recognizing how messed up silas’ actions are like any rational bot would, he helps silas make his fake-bot-that’s-using-another-bot’s-stolen-organ work by providing him with energon (the [at the time] incredibly scarce resource that helps all bots survive) and — after that plan falls through because of bumblebee finding them — he destroys the bot’s organ for no reason other than he wanted to escape and thought that was a good way to distract him

I just—I’m sorry?? I feel like bumblebee is incredibly justified for clowning on this cringefailure of a bot for what he’s done to him

And this isn’t even mentioning what he’s done against the autobots as a whole (both on and off screen) that has probably hurt bumblebee by proxy

I feel like it’d be justified if bee also killed starscream — he already got to kill the bot that destroyed his voice box, I think bee deserves another murder as a treat <3

/joking but also what if—*gets shot by tfp/rid2015 starscream fans*

[itsnesss]

hey, are you willing to do a Myung-gi x read x jun hee where they both want her and are kind of fighting over her. thanks <3

𝐟𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐟𝐨𝐫 𝐲𝐨𝐮 | lee myung-gi & kim jun-hee × fem!reader

summary | the request

warnings | romantic tension, jealousy, slight arguments

word count | 0.6 k

author's note | it would help me a lot if you liked, commented and reposted so that more people read what I write and don't forget to follow me, thanks ᡣ𐭩

You were sitting on the edge of your bunk, fiddling with a bracelet. You didn’t want to draw attention, but that seemed impossible with the two of them around.

Myung-gi was leaning against the wall, his frown as deep as always, but his eyes softened every time they landed on you. On the other hand, Jun-hee, with her short hair and confident attitude, sat on the bunk next to yours, pretending not to care about you, though her words cut like knives every time Myung-gi spoke to you.

“What are you doing there alone?” Myung-gi asked suddenly, stepping closer to you. His hands rested on the edge of your bunk.

“Nothing important, just… thinking,” you replied, trying not to hold his gaze for too long.

Jun-hee let out a sarcastic laugh from her spot. “Thinking, sure. Probably thinking about how much she wants to get out of here, not sit around listening to your nonsense, Myung-gi.”

He clenched his jaw, turning to Jun-hee. “And what would you know, Jun-hee? You’re always sticking your nose where it doesn’t belong.”

She stood up slowly, her posture steady. “I know more than you think, and I also know she doesn’t need you pretending to be her protector,” she said, motioning toward you with a tilt of her head. “She doesn’t need someone like you, Myung-gi.” It was obvious they had history.

The atmosphere grew tense. You felt the weight of their stares on you, but you didn’t want to intervene just yet. It was as if they were both trying to prove something that didn’t need proving.

“And what do you think she needs, Jun-hee?” Myung-gi shot back, stepping closer to her. His voice was filled with frustration. “Someone like you? Someone who only knows how to use sharp words to hide their own insecurity?”

Jun-hee narrowed her eyes, a sarcastic smile playing on her lips. “At least I don’t need to hide behind excuses to justify my choices, Myung-gi.”

“Enough!” you said, standing between them before things got out of hand. “This doesn’t make any sense.”

They both froze, their expressions shifting from anger to discomfort at your intervention.

“There’s no need for you two to fight over me. This isn’t another test; you don’t have to compete like my attention is some kind of prize,” you added, crossing your arms.

Myung-gi lowered his gaze, his expression softening. “I’m sorry… I didn’t mean to make you feel uncomfortable.”

Jun-hee, on the other hand, let out a chuckle. “Don’t worry. He’s the one taking things too seriously.”

You knew Jun-hee used sarcasm as a shield, but you also noticed a hidden vulnerability in her gaze.

...

As you returned to the common dorm, they both walked by your side, competing for your attention in more subtle ways.

“Are you okay? Did you get hurt in the test?” Myung-gi asked, his concern evident.

“Of course she’s fine. She’s not as fragile as you think, Myung-gi,” Jun-hee interrupted, rolling her eyes. “But if she needs someone who actually understands her, I’m right here.”

You sighed, tired of the same dynamic. Suddenly, you stopped, turning to face them.

“Can you both stop?” you asked, your voice firmer than you expected. “I don’t need you to take care of me like I can’t do it myself.”

They both fell silent, surprised by your tone. Finally, Myung-gi nodded. “You’re right. I’m sorry.”

Jun-hee crossed her arms, but her expression softened too. “Alright. Maybe… I went a little overboard.”

[mydearestbeloved]

Chapter 16 [Draft]

Sung Jinwoo/Trial Player!Reader

CW:

Inspired by @circeyoru ‘s “Future Power Couple”

[Masterlist🦋✨️]

You needed to rein in your anger for now. Jinwoo needed to defeat Baran as quickly as possible to obtain the ingredients necessary to cure his mother. Even though he might not yet know whether it would work, you did. The future you knew was enough to justify setting aside… whatever this was for the time being.

It was clear that Jinwoo wanted your support; otherwise, he would have already gone to the Demon Castle. You should have convinced him to go solo. According to the story, he’d be fine. Your interference might bring troublesome consequences, yet you wanted to help him—perhaps selfishly this time.

You still blamed yourself for what happened to his mother. You knew her eternal slumber was meant to drive Jinwoo to grow stronger. But you had the power to prevent it, to cure her, and yet—

At one point, you unconsciously began to feel that helping him was a way of making amends—for your helplessness, for things out of your control. Not just his mother [Why do you blame yourself?] but also for not arriving sooner from the garden. For being too late to save his father, even if the system might have stopped you anyway. You could have tried. Yet you were too late [it’s not your fault]. Too late to save his father. Too late to help the people devastated by Kamish.

[It was out of your control.]

---

The garden was as serene as ever, a tranquil oasis filled with blooming flowers and butterflies flitting through the air. The soft hum of nature provided a soothing backdrop, yet the tension inside you was anything but calm. You sat at your usual spot by the gazebo, sipping tea from a delicate cup, waiting for him to arrive via the invitation you’d sent with your butterflies.

When Jinwoo stepped into your domain, the portal sealed behind him.

Was it just you, or did he look more haggard than usual? Was it because of your… disagreement? He shouldn’t care that much about you. You needed to be sure of that. Otherwise… you didn’t know what would happen to this story.

"(Name), I'm sorry—" Jinwoo began, his voice tentative, but you cut him off with a raised hand.

"Sit," you said simply, taking another sip of tea. Your tone was measured, calm, but there was no room for argument.

To his credit—or perhaps his detriment—Jinwoo sat immediately, like an obedient dog, responding to its master’s command.

You laughed, and he flinched, thinking he’d done something wrong again. But you laughed because of the irony. Here sat the soon-to-be strongest man in the world, obeying you like a lost puppy. You didn’t know whether to laugh, cry, feel exhilarated, uneasy, or all of the above.

It was both endearing and unsettling.

You needed to address this situation—quickly.

But for now, Jinwoo needed to focus.

"Let’s set that aside for now," you said, waving off his attempt at an apology. You noticed him opening his mouth again, perhaps to protest, but one sharp look from you silenced him effectively. Lovely.

At least he listens when it matters.

"You need to return to the Demon Castle to gather the final material for crafting the Holy Water of Life, correct?"

"Y-yeah," Jinwoo stammered, caught off guard by your directness.

"Then why are you still here?" Your voice held a firm edge. Why hadn’t he already gone? He didn’t need you for this, not really.

"I—" Jinwoo faltered, the words dying in his throat. He was going to ask you to accompany him, but why? Why didn’t he use this time to leave, to step away from your anger? He couldn’t admit it, not even to himself, but leaving without resolving things with you felt… wrong.

Running away from this felt wrong.

You sighed, leaning back in your chair. The tea in your cup swirled as you tilted it slightly, your thoughts as restless as the liquid. "I’ll help you," you said at last, the words measured but sincere. "Though I’m not sure how much help I’ll actually be. Just give me time to prepare.”

He clearly hadn’t expected that. “You don’t have to—”

"I don’t," you interjected, cutting him off once more. Your gaze softened as you set the teacup down and folded your hands on the table. "But I want to. Let’s just leave it at that."

Oh.

Jinwoo felt an odd sense of déjà vu. It reminded him of the past, back when he was weakest. When he didn’t know anything about his mysterious benefactor. When he didn’t know you.

Thank you. He wanted to say it, but it didn’t feel like enough. It never did.

You took his silence as agreement, your lips curving into a faint smile despite yourself.

---

The silence stretched on, the air heavy with unspoken tension. Jinwoo fidgeted slightly.

“I—” Jinwoo hesitated. Should he bring up that dinner? No. It wasn’t the right time, not when you were setting your fight aside for his sake.

“Hm?” you prompted.

“…Can you train Tusk?” Jinwoo blurted out, summoning the High Orc Shaman before he could stop himself. The towering figure of Tusk knelt immediately, his glowing eyes filled with both reverence and curiosity as he regarded you, and… confused by his nervous master.

You arched a brow, eyeing the orc, setting down your teacup with a soft clink.

Jinwoo scratched the back of his neck. “He’s good at casting spells—” He winced at his poor wording. “I… I thought he could learn a thing or two from you—”

You moved, and Jinwoo stiffened. Standing from your seat, you approached the kneeling Tusk, your footsteps soft against the gazebo’s stone floor. Tusk, to his credit, remained perfectly still, though his glowing eyes followed your every move.

Reaching out, you placed a hand gently atop his head, patting him lightly.

The orc blinked. Jinwoo blinked.

"Alright," you said simply.

You smiled—a genuine smile that Jinwoo hadn’t seen in days.

It was meant for Tusk, sure, but his shadows were an extension of himself. And Jinwoo… Jinwoo clung to that small glimmer of hope.

---

“Enchanting equipment?” you asked, your voice cool and composed.

“Yes.” Jinwoo nodded, carefully pulling two items from his inventory. “A few days ago, I bought some gear in preparation to return to the Demon Castle.” He handed you the wind-attribute robe and the nameless ring imbued with a water-attribute.

You regarded the items with a practiced eye, fingers grazing the surface of the robe before both pieces floated midair, enveloped in your signature silver aura. Jinwoo watched as your shoulders relaxed, your eyes fluttering closed.

His gaze remained fixed as your butterflies began to swirl, seamlessly merging with your aura as they danced around the equipment. Your hair swayed gently with the magical currents, and for a moment, Jinwoo was captivated.

The light flared momentarily before dispersing, the butterflies scattering back into the garden. The robe and ring floated down gently into your open hand. Without a word, you handed them back to Jinwoo.

Out of curiosity, he activated the system to inspect their stats, and his eyes widened in shock. The equipment’s overall defense had tripled. Not doubled—tripled!

The robe’s magic resistance and affinity were leagues beyond its original state, and the ring now pulsed with latent power, its water attribute refined into something far more potent. Even the overall quality of the items had improved dramatically.

“You’re… you’re really amazing,” Jinwoo said, awe dripping from his tone as he examined the equipment.

You hummed in acknowledgment, though your focus had already shifted to your butterflies, idly letting them land on your fingers and shoulders.

You still weren’t looking at him.

Oh right. Jinwoo’s expression faltered as the realization hit. You were still giving him the silent treatment.

From the corner of your eye, you could see Jinwoo’s reaction—his head tilted down, his shoulders slightly slumped, his lips pressed into a tight line. He looked like a dejected puppy, an image made even more comical by his flickering gaze, which kept darting to you as if waiting for some kind of acknowledgment.

Your butterflies noticed, fluttering inquisitively toward Jinwoo before retreating back to you. Jinwoo’s shadows, peeking through the faint dark mist at his feet, mimicked the butterflies with exaggerated shrugs, clearly as lost as he was about what to do.

You didn’t react.

---

Yeesh.

Jinho shifted uncomfortably in the driver’s seat, glancing between the two of you as the car sped down the road. The silence inside was suffocating—not quite as unbearable as the last time he’d seen the two of you together, but still tense enough to make him itch for some form of normalcy.

His Unnie sat by the window, her head resting lightly against the glass, staring at the passing scenery. She hadn’t said a word since they left. His Hyung, seated in the opposite side of the passenger seat from her, occasionally flicked his gaze toward her, his brow furrowing ever so slightly before his focus returned to the road.

The tension was palpable.

Jinwoo cleared his throat, breaking the silence. “Were you able to sleep well?” he asked, addressing Jinho.

“Yes, Hyung-nim. Unnie is really a great host!” Jinho replied, his tone overly chipper as he tried to ease the atmosphere.

For the briefest of moments, he caught the smallest of smiles gracing your lips. It was faint and fleeting, but it was there. Before he could even process it, your expression returned to its usual steady, composed look.

The silence resumed.

This time, it was Jinho who cleared his throat awkwardly. “By the way, what business do you two have at the World Tower this early?”

“We’ll be going,” Jinwoo answered curtly.

Your gaze flickered to Jinho, and you added, “Take care of my shop in my absence, okay, Jinho?”

“Wait, what—?” Before Jinho could even finish his sentence, both of you were gone.

Jinho blinked, staring at the now-empty car. “Huh?” he muttered to himself, still processing the abrupt departure.

He sighed, leaning back in the seat. “Well… at least the tension’s gone now…”

---

“As we practiced, Tusk!” Your voice carried across the battlefield, clear and commanding.

Jinwoo stood at a safe distance, watching as the shadow of the high orc shaman obeyed your order, prepared to unleash a spell. Tusk raised the Orb of Avarice high, the artifact shimmering as it expanded to match his increased size.

“Fire!”

The command was punctuated by a deafening explosion of power. The beam tore through the battlefield, obliterating every demon in its path, only leaving a charred crater. The heat from the explosion rippled outward, stirring dust and debris, carrying with it the echoes of decimation.

Jinwoo whistled in appreciation, folding his arms as he observed the carnage. Behind him, his shadows shifted, and your butterflies fluttered in synchronized patterns, as if admiring the display.

Meanwhile, you floated upward, your butterflies swirling protectively around you. Once you reached Tusk’s massive head, you landed lightly, patting the shaman’s forehead.

“Well done!” you praised, your voice warm. A neon blue butterfly followed your gesture, landing on Tusk’s—well, tusk.

The shadow rumbled in satisfaction, his massive shoulders relaxing as he basked in the praise. Jinwoo couldn’t help but chuckle

Yeah, he thought, a small smirk tugging at his lips, leaving Tusk’s training to her was definitely the right call.

---

“Say, can your butterflies level up?” Jinwoo began as his dagger sliced cleanly through a demon, sending the dark creature crumpling to the ground. “Like my shadows?”

You were a short distance away, directing a volley of butterflies toward a cluster of demons. The faint hum of system constant notifications rang in Jinwoo’s mind as both your forces and his defeated demons across the floor in the coordinated teams.

“Yes, they can,” you replied, casting a spell that sent silvery light streaking toward Jinwoo. His health bar filled rapidly, minor scratches on his arms close up. A boost in mana regeneration and overall speed left him feeling reinvigorated as he flexed his fingers.

“They gain power differently, though,” you continued, spinning your scepter once to clear some demons encroaching on your position. “Instead of receiving direct experience points from defeating enemies, they grow stronger by feeding on lifeforce. It’s a continuous process, and it takes significantly more time.”

Jinwoo hummed, parrying a claw strike from a nearby demon. He glanced back at you as you effortlessly destroyed another group with a volley of silver projectiles.

You nodded. “They also have ranks similar to your shadows, but the system referred to them as stages of metamorphosis. Egg, Larva, Pupa, and Adult. Their forms change at each stage. Sometimes they grow larger, sometimes their colors or wing patterns shift, and so on. The last time I maxed them out, though, the ‘Adult’ stage was locked, so my strongest children remained in the ‘Pupa’ stage.”

Jinwoo tilted his head slightly, avoiding a beam of light that zipped past where his head had been moments before. The shot hit its mark, incinerating a line of demons behind him. He didn’t bother turning to check the scorched corpses. His focus stayed on you.

Your scepter glimmered in your hand, its tip still smoking faintly from the spell. You ran a hand down its length, your expression calm and calculated as more demons circled you and him.

“To ascend to the next stage, each butterfly requires specific ascension materials. The materials differ depending on the field I want them to excel in—whether it’s devouring, illusions, healing, or something else entirely,” you continued. Your voice was steady, even as you broke into a sprint straight toward him.

Jinwoo remained perfectly composed, lowering one hand, bracing himself. Without hesitation, you plant your foot in his palm, and he used his strength to propel you into the air. The dagger held in his other hand slashed cleanly through the demon hot on your heels.

Midair, you spun gracefully, casting multiple magic circles that hovered around you like constellations. Beams of concentrated light erupted from them, carving through the horde of demons surrounding Jinwoo with pinpoint accuracy. The spells struck true, decimating the creatures while leaving Jinwoo untouched in the center.

You landed gracefully, the silver aura around you dispersing as your butterflies fluttered back to various parts of the battlefield, supporting Jinwoo’s soldiers.

“It was something I gave the system feedback about. It’s why your shadows only need your permission to rank up.” You brushed a stray strand of hair from your face.

“A single Larva-stage butterfly is more than equal to an entire kaleidoscope of its siblings still in the Egg stage. And that comparison holds for the higher stages as well.”

Jinwoo’s eyes followed the graceful movements of your butterflies, a thoughtful look crossing his face. “So… when do you get to name them?” he asked casually, flicking the blood from his blade.

You turned to him sharply, your expression almost scandalized. “My children are living, sentient beings, Jinwoo. I name them as I see fit.”

Jinwoo smirked. “You’re telling me you memorize all their names? From the look of it, you’ve got hundreds—no, thousands of them.” He chuckled, expecting you to roll your eyes or laugh.

Instead, you looked at him blankly, reply just as flat, “Yes.”

Jinwoo opened his mouth to respond, but no words came out. After a second, he closed it again and shook his head with a soft chuckle. “Of course, you do,” he murmured, bemused. Honestly, he should’ve expected that. It was just so you.

A voice echoed in your mind, soft and respectful.

My Lady, Sir Jinwoo’s shadows have located the entry permit. We can now ascend to the next floor.

“Red informed me that Igris’ team found the entry permit,” you relayed to Jinwoo.

He raised a brow. “Red?”

“The child who always hovers to my right,” you said, and as if on cue, Red fluttered down to your shoulder. You patted her wings lightly, murmuring, “Well done.”

Igris materialized behind Jinwoo, confirming the butterfly’s report with a respectful nod.

Jinwoo made a mental note to ask you more about your telepathic connection and the mechanics of how your butterflies were born. For now, it was time to ascend.

“Let’s move.”

Together, you ascended to the 80th floor.

End Note:

Unfinished Draft of [18/11/2024] -

[theprettynosferatu]

CONTENT WARNING. NO, FOR REAL, READ THIS FIRST.

This story contains strong themes and graphic non-consensual sex. If you feel they might affect you adversely, skip this one.

Andrea is being tormented in college by a bigoted popular girl. Her daddy has always helped her... maybe he can help her get some justice...

CW: Incest, non-con, SA, orientation play (F-straight to bi)

I - No Expiration Date

She felt ridiculous. She probably looked ridiculous too, sitting against the wall, grabbing her knees, almost shaking, all in the middle of the hallway. Most made a point to not look at her, rushing to their classes, their dorms or wherever the hell they needed to be with such haste. Well, Andrea knew they only rushed because of her, to give themselves a plausible excuse to avoid doing the right thing and checking up on the poor, weird girl hyperventilating on the ground.

The worst part was that Andrea knew she shouldn’t let it get to her. If anything, it was Kate that should be ashamed of herself, not Andrea- fuck, to say such things in these days was almost quaint in its ignorance, and if Andrea chose to make a stink, grounds for expulsion. Would it be considered a hate crime? Maybe. But going up to the dean or whoever like a poor little victim felt so… humiliating. Perhaps more so than Kate’s constant, whispered words and stories. And some idiots actually listened to her! 

Andrea supposed that was the big perk of having a rich, connected daddy. Even the most moronic and bigoted statements found an audience eager to please, if only for the unspoken promise of future gifts, recommendations, networking opportunities. Shit, even the dean might sweep the whole thing under the rug just to please her family. Andrea could feel the rage building up inside her chest, making her almost sick. Part of it was the stench of injustice that surrounded the whole deal. But most of her anger was directed at herself. It wasn’t as if any of this was new to her: she had come out in highschool. Every insult and every joke and every slur had been thrown at her a thousand times over already. 

But… college was supposed to be different. Even the teachers that saw the abuse in her younger years had told her so. It will get better. You’ll get out of here, and in college all this will be a distant memory. That hope had kept her going even as everyone forgot her name and simply called her “The Dyke” her entire senior year. But those were kids. Kate was a fucking adult. And yet, bigotry seemed to have no expiration date.

Fuck. The bullying wasn’t even fucking accurate! Andrea had been openly bi for years, but apparently the nuances of sexual orientation were irrelevant when it came to making one person the butt of every facile joke, a stepping stone to get some sweet, addicting attention. And Kate loved nothing more than attention. Good, bad, who cared? As long as the spotlight was on her, whatever hole she had in what she called a soul was temporarily filled. Fucking go to therapy, you cunt! Did daddy not hug you enough? Used dollars as a substitute for affection? Boo-hoo. It didn’t justify a goddamn thing.  

Andrea took a deep breath and managed to get up. Her Social Psych lecture was about to start, and Andrea knew she would skip it, even if she tried to fool herself for a moment, to force her legs to walk towards the classroom. Step by step, she headed for her dorm room. Fuck. Another absence. Kate was even fucking up her academic life. But what could Andrea do? Go to the professor and explain that, sorry, I couldn’t make it because the rich girl made fun of me?

She threw herself on the bed with punishing force. A miniature form of self-harm, she figured. Sometimes she hated majoring in psychology: that little voice that analyzed her actions almost made her feel like she was performing her suffering, rather than feeling it fully. And that distancing might also be a defense mechanism. Well, shit. How does one turn their brain off?

Andrea felt a pang in her chest, a familiar longing for home. Sure, it wasn’t a perfect place and money was always tight. Sure, her mother had vanished when she was barely one year old. Sure, the old place was in dire need of repairs and an update. But it was home. Of course, she knew she was lying to herself by omission. She was trying not to think of the one person that made it a home, and inevitably, in trying to suppress the idea, it came to her twice as strong. Daddy. Her father was her home, and it made her feel childish, helpless, as if she was ten and running to him whenever things went poorly. That her mind still went to him filled her with shame.

Oh, bullshit. You know damn well why you don’t want to think about him.

She couldn’t tell when it had happened, exactly. It had been something slow, growing inside her, indirectly pushing her subconscious. If she looked back at her dating history, a pattern emerged, one hidden at the time but blindingly obvious in retrospect: similar to dad, similar to dad… and then, when an errant comment by a friend (“All I’m saying is, like, for an old guy… you’re dad is kinda hot”) opened her eyes, she swerved in an attempt to escape her feelings. Different from dad, different from dad… The problem with “different from dad” was, of course, that those guys were, well, different from her dad. 

The summer before college had been the worst. She did her best to be home as little as possible.

Before she knew it, twin emotions were boiling over inside her. The first made her feel sick to her stomach, made her muscles tense up, made her breathing shallow and quick, as if she was about to leap and bite some animal’s neck. It was rage, pure and shining, clad with the garment of a righteous need for justice. It isn’t fair. It isn’t fucking fair. It wasn’t supposed to be like this. That fucking bitch. She needs to suffer. She needs to be punished. She needs to fucking learn some humility. And at the same time, the second feeling snuck up on her, traveling in the shadow of the first, mingling with it until they became one, like snakes mating. Dad. She needs to suffer, dad. Make her suffer for me. Please. Please, daddy. Do this for me and I’ll… 

Andrea snapped back to reality, horrified. She moved her hand from between her legs, not even knowing when she had started playing with herself. Fuck, she was soaked. Shame almost brought her to tears, until Kate’s sneering face popped back in her mind. She had endured enough for one day. She had earned a little bit of fantasy. Just that. It wasn’t as if she’d ever do anything about… well, anything. But she could imagine, couldn’t she? She wasn’t that much of a coward- she could dare to imagine Kate, and dad, and… 

Fuck it. Who cared if it was wrong. She needed release.

Andrea let her hand go back between her legs.

II - The Call

Mike found himself staring at his phone. His morning coffee had gotten cold, but he took a sip anyway, almost as an automatic action. He couldn’t stop playing the conversation back in his head over and over.

“Dad, I’m on my way. I need your help. I… I’ll explain…”

“Andrea, are you okay? What happened?”

“I… I’ll be there in about an hour. I kinda… I don’t want to talk over the phone. Dad, I… nevermind. We’ll talk when I get there.”

And that had been it. No clues, no hint, nothing to guide him except the tone in his daughter’s voice. She was scared, and she was suffering, and that was all that he needed to know. Whatever it was that was harming her girl, he’d move Heaven and Earth to make it better. That much he knew, deep in his heart. Still, he couldn’t stop picturing the worst possible scenarios.

He tried to remain calm. Sexual assault on college campuses is… 

Mike pushed the thought away.  

Restrictions on reproductive rights have…

Snippets of news stories slapped him. The world could be a terrifying place for a young woman. But that was why they had chosen a college close to home. So Andrea could always come to him if she needed help. And she clearly needed help. Stay focused, old man. She needs you to be strong. Don’t let her see you panic. 

He needed to be strong for her. That was all he always wanted to be, more than anything: a rock, a place of stability, a North Star for the one thing that mattered in his life. They had faced the world together. They had survived poverty together. They had endured the pain of an absent mother and wife together. They had managed a retrograde high school that tormented Andrea together. She had saved his life as much as he had fostered hers. Without his girl, Mike wasn’t sure where he would be- perhaps underground. She had been the reason to dig deep, to find strength, to endure, always. 

Don’t let her see you panic.

Don’t let her see you looking at her.

He shook the intrusive thought off. Andrea needed him, not his fucked up neuroses, not the secret shame the last months of living together had awakened in him.

One hour stretched into a year, and Mike practically leaped out the door as soon as he heard the car pulling over. The first thing he noticed was his daughter’s panicked face, and that alone was enough to make his heart feel like it was about to burst out of his chest. The second thing he noticed was the other girl, passed out in the passenger’s seat. Andrea rushed into his arms, and he held her tight, trying to will some degree of peace into her mind. First things first.

“Are you okay?”, he asked.

“Yes, I’m… I’m fine.”, Andrea sobbed.

Good. Now to do what he did best: fix things.

“Ok, so, your friend…”

“She’s not my friend.”

“What did she take? Did you take anything? Look, I’m not… I won’t get mad, I just need to know what she may have taken… is it just booze? No, couldn’t be… Benzos? Or… Christ, I don’t know what you guys take these days in college…”

“Dad! She didn’t take anything!”

“Are you sure? Maybe she went into some bathroom and did something… okay. First things. We need to call an ambulance…”

“Dad, please! Listen to me! I’ll explain everything. But we need to get her inside before anyone sees-”

“Andrea, this girl is passed out! She needs medical attention! Who knows what-”

“I know what she took because I gave it to her, okay? She’s just asleep! And she should be asleep for… maybe another couple of hours. Daddy, please… I swear I’ll explain. Just help me get her into the house, okay?”

Mike felt dumbfounded. The idea that his Andrea had roofied some other girl was so distant from his image of her, from the girl he had raised, that the contradiction felt impossible to resolve. It was a paralyzing feeling, one he couldn’t entirely put into words. All he knew was he didnt like it one bit. He was a man of action. He needed to do things, more than ponder feelings. And the thing to do, if only to escape that horrid sensation, was to get the poor girl out of the car.

They dragged Kate into the house, and laid her down on Andrea’s bed- a task that, Mike noticed, his daughter undertook with less care than he would have liked. Back in the living room, he looked at his daughter and put on his best stern face. Stern was good. It hid other ideas that came into his mind when he looked directly at Andrea.

“Explain.”

Andrea broke down in tears.

“Daddy, that girl… Kate.. she’s… she’s making my life Hell! She tortures me every day, makes fun of me, spreads rumors about me… people think… I don’t even know what they think about me anymore. So I can’t make any friends. Just like high school. It’s the same damn thing! And they all said… you said college would be different! But it’s not! Maybe it’s my fault. Maybe I’m just… I don’t know. Broken. Maybe people can smell I’m weird, or weak, or… and they know they can abuse me and mock me and… It’s not fair! And I didn’t know what to do, I wasn’t thinking straight… I just put a couple of pills in her tea, and… I freaked out. I needed to feel safe, and I feel safe here… with you.”

Mike took it all in. He had to admit the sight of his precious daughter in such despair was enough to pierce any ideas of being tough he might have. And yes, it wasn’t fair. The world wasn’t fair at all. Andrea was beautiful, smart, creative… but there would always be those people who couldn’t understand someone being different, loving who they loved, being their authentic self. He got the anger. He got the frustration. He hated that Andrea had been driven to this point. But there was a big thing to address.

“Honey… I know… but you can’t just… just… kidnap someone!”

Andrea couldn’t help herself. She ran into her father’s arms, and hugged him tight.

“Daddy… I didn’t know what to do. I…”

She went silent. Mike couldn’t find the words to console her, to lecture her, to say anything at all. All he could do was feel the warmth of her body pressed against him, intuit her soft curves, take in the smell of her shampoo, her skin. It was intoxicating, and for once he let himself feel… whatever it was he was feeling. He let himself enjoy the moment, and even the sleeping girl in the bedroom seemed to fade away from his consciousness. They simply lingered, holding each other, taking it all in.

Such a moment couldn’t last. It shouldn’t last. Mike forced himself to speak, to say… whatever he could muster.

“What… I don’t know what you expect me to do…”

He felt Andrea’s hands on his back holding him tighter. He felt her warm breath on his ear, sending shivers down his spine as she whispered before the words even registered in his brain.

“Daddy… please… fuck her for me. Fucking rape the cunt… show her her place. Daddy… break her with your cock. For me.”

III - Persuasion 

Andrea couldn’t tell exactly what happened to her, what shifted within herself in that embrace, what dam had finally broken in her mind. Even as her father pushed her away with a horrified look on his face, she could see him- almost as if for the first time. A veil that had been dulling her sight for so, so long had finally vanished. Yes, she saw everything so clearly now, with such simple purity, devoid of fear or shame or silly excuses. It was a bizarre sensation, to finally be able to accept without doubt or hesitation the truth, so long buried.

She wanted to fuck him.

He wanted to fuck her.

So obvious. So simple. So powerful. Andrea wasn’t going to run away from it anymore. And she could see, under the mask of horror worn by her father, beneath the shock in his eyes, something else. Stirring. 

Suddenly, Andrea felt powerful. Immense. Sexy. In control. The fact that she had become one with her secret desires and he hadn’t brought a predatory joy to her chest… and something else, both an anger and a need. In her heart she could see not just what her father was but what he could be, what he could become, what he needed to be. She could almost smell it- the strong, conquering Man suffocated by the dull veneer of morality and social norms. Yes, she felt powerful- but she didn’t need to be strong. She needed to be taken by him. She needed to bring the beast forth, somehow. To make him see himself as she saw him. To make him see her as she wanted to be seen.

She smiled inside, even as her father almost recoiled from her. It was all a game, now. One she intended to win.

In the blink of an eye her entire demeanor, her posture, the way she looked at her father shifted. For a second she was the perfect picture of innocence, of a young woman in need of rescue.

“Daddy… please… I need your help. Won’t you help your little girl? I promise I’ll be good. I’ll be so… so good to you, Daddy. I’ll be your good little girl. Your obedient… slutty… little daughter”, she smiled as she took one step towards her father, her body now swaying like a cat slowly approaching its prey. She took a moment to delight in the confusion in her father’s eyes, the tension increasing almost to a breaking point.

“I… what are you…”, managed to mumble Mike. Oh, it was so pathetic it became cute.

“Daddy… you think I haven’t noticed the way you look at me recently? It must be so, so hard for you… to see your little girl all grown up, and you all alone… that’s not fair, is it?”, said Andrea as she closed the distance with her now paralyzed father. Oh, this was too much fun. “You have been a bad daddy in your mind, haven’t you? That sounds so painful! Knowing it’s soooo wrong to think about your little girl like that… having to pretend you don’t want to… Fuck. Your. Daughter. Oh daddy, don’t blush! Surprised to hear such naughty words coming from my cute mouth? Or… do you like me having such a potty mouth?”

Andrea, in a swift motion ran her hand over her father’s crotch. Yes. She could feel it. So hard. So warm. She was right. He was breaking.

“Feels like your daddy cock likes me talking like a dirty slut! Don’t be ashamed! I love to imagine your cock getting so hard for me… I love to know I can make it so, so happy… And only using my words! Just talking like the hopeless little fucking whore I am… for you… just knowing you can use my tight holes whenever you want… however you want… and I’ll take it like a good girl! I am your good girl, daddy. You made me, after all… you own me… you can own every inch of my slutty, smooth body…”

Suddenly, she took a step back, her eyes almost in tears. She was the very picture of anguish, of despair, of vulnerability. Mike opened his mouth to speak, but he found no words came to him. He just watched, fighting his need to hug her, to protect her, to tell her he would make everything right again.

“Daddy… I’m so sorry… I don’t know what got into me. I just feel so confused, so disoriented, and… I don’t know. It’s like I have all these feelings inside me and they get all mixed up and I can’t really tell what I feel anymore, and it hurts so much. It hurts, Daddy. And that girl… Kate… I can’t tell you how much she’s hurt me, how she has been messing with my mind and making me so miserable… and… and I guess, I’m not sure, just… I thought you could help me, Daddy. You always could help me. You always could make me feel like everything would be okay, that I wasn’t a freak, or…”

“Honey, you are not a freak! You know this. You’ve been so brave, so strong, so true to yourself, even when everyone gave you grief over it!” He couldn’t help himself anymore. He held his sweet girl in his arms.

“But I… I did a bad thing, Daddy. I brought Kate here… I couldn’t think of anything else to do to make her stop, to make her leave me alone…”

“I know. And yes, you did a… wrong thing. But that doesn’t make you a monster, or evil or anything like that, okay? We’ll… I’ll find a way… I’ll help you. I’ll… fix it, somehow.”

“Will you rape her for me? Will you punish her with your cock for hurting your little girl? I’ll be so, so good for you if you do it, daddy… I’ll be the bestest daughter ever for you!”

Mike tried to pull away before he was interrupted by the sensation of warm, soft lips on his own. Time stopped. He felt dizzy, trapped in the feeling, the scent of skin, the rush of adrenaline in his chest. He panicked as he realized he didn’t stop it in time. He didn’t stop it as time stretched. He wasn’t stopping it even as the thoughts flooded his mind. It took Mike every ounce of willpower to push his daughter away.

Oh, it was so fun to see her Daddy so confused, so aroused, so disoriented. But Kate would wake up soon. Andrea needed to land the killing blow on whatever resistance her dear dad had left.

“I’m sorry Daddy… it’s just that I love you so, so much…” One slow, seductive step towards him. “I was bad, Daddy. I shouldn’t have done that, right? Does that make me a bad girl? A bad daughter?” Another step. So close now. “I’m so, so sorry for being bad, Daddy. I’m sorry I made your cock all hard for me and teased you and used all those dirty, dirty words. Will you punish me, Daddy? Will you make me good again, show me my place? I think you should. I think you should take your cock, and-”

One final step, and Mike snapped. For the first time in his life, he slapped his daughter. Horror set on his face, and it became a mixture of bewilderment and fire when he noticed Andrea’s reaction. She was smiling.

“Mmmmh… so strong, Daddy. Do it again. Punish me. Show me you own me. Make me your bitch!”

It was over for Mike. Something primal, something awful had taken hold of him. 

His hand on her neck. Hers rubbing his cock over his pants. Her soft moans. Kisses that turned into bites. His own mumbled, jumbled words. Little cunt. Evil fucking bitch. Her words, playing off his. Your little cunt. Your good little girl. Her face against the wall. Her movements, grinding her ass against him. Her hands on his chest, pushing him back. 

So many lines crossed. Mike knew, deep down, he had broken something inside himself. Or maybe she had broken it in him. It didn’t matter. He looked down at the beautiful, perfect woman kneeling and smiling. He saw his daughter, yes, but his eyes were now different. The barrier that kept the idea of “daughter” and “sex” apart simply didn’t exist anymore. He felt adrift, caught by a whirlwind he couldn’t stop- one he didn’t want to stop. 

Victory. It looked like victory. Victory over herself, over her old fears. Victory over his attempts at doing the “right thing”. Further victory to come, as well. And it didn’t hurt that the cock that made her was a rather large one, veiny and beautiful. He tried to keep herself in check. She knew exactly what to do, which went against everything her body was screaming for her to do. No matter how much she needed to feel that cock deep inside her pussy, no matter how much she longed to taste his cum on her tongue, she would have to wait. She couldn’t risk some post nut clarity throwing further objections to her plan. She kept her mind on Kate as she licked, kissed, loved his member. She was alert, ready to stop before he went over the edge. She did let one hand slide between her legs- just a treat, and a bit of a show for Daddy. She took him deep in her throat, deeper than anyone she’d ever blown. He deserved it. He was her one true love. 

She did manage to stop herself when she felt him getting close, heard his moans getting stronger.

She stood up and simply, gently, gave his Daddy her soaked hand for him to smell. It was a promise of the pleasures to come… if he did as she asked, as she needed him to. She could see it in his eyes. He had been unleashed. Andrea smiled, and with a moan sucked her fingers clean, keeping her green eyes fixed on her Daddy’s gaze.

Punishment would finally come to the one that had wronged her.

IV - Melody of Madness

Slowly, Kate started to regain her consciousness. It was a gradual thing, messy, disoriented. The first thing she noticed was a scent- the kind of smell that tells one they’re no longer home, but in a place inhabited for years by some unknown Other. Her body felt heavy, sluggish, weighed down. She wasn’t afraid, not at that point. She was too out of it to register such an emotion.

Only when her vision cleared a bit and her body started to feel more like her own did the true horror begin. She tried to remain calm. Okay, Kate. Just… try to figure things out. You’re in a bedroom. A girl’s room, judging by the decor. Shit, did you get wasted again? Wait, no… a room, yes, but not a dorm room. Bigger than the dorms. Oh, fuck. Did I party in town? Did I black out and some random girl decided to help me?

A part of her screamed. Assuming that this was just another regrettable morning after too much liquor was only a pleasant delusion, and she knew it. As painful as it might be, she would have to face another possibility. What was the last thing she remembered? She was getting up, ready for class… then she was picking up her morning coffee… a bitter taste, more than usual, and then… nothing. 

Kate needed to get out. Wherever she was, it was not where she wanted to be, that much she knew. She’d have time to figure things out later. First, get out of bed, and then…

She couldn’t. She was bound to the bed by improvised ropes made of sheets. Her legs were open, held in place. She noticed the way the air felt on her skin. She was in her underwear. This final fact froze her for half a minute- thirty seconds that felt like an eternity. 

Finally, she screamed.

“Shut the fuck up, or things will get very, very messy for you. And I don’t want to ruin my sheets, thank you very much.”

The voice was calm. Cold, yet expressing a hint of anticipation. And it was a voice Kate would never have expected to hear in that place, not in a million years.

“Andrea?”

“Oh, I’m ‘Andrea’ today? Are you sure you don’t mean to call me one of your usual nicknames? No ‘dyke’? No ‘carpet muncher’? No ‘cunt licker’? Isn’t it interesting, how something as simple as a little bit of metal and a few sheets are enough to teach you manners?”

Metal? Kate lifted her head as much as she could. There was Andrea, holding a knife. Shit. Shit. Shit. That little, insignificant bitch! And what was it with the outfit? Black lingerie, full face of make-up, devilishly sharp stiletto heels… Kate had never seen the stupid dyke looking anything like a real woman. Huh. So she had curves hidden under her usual baggy hoodies. Good for her. But she was still a fucking loser, and Kate knew how to handle losers.

“What the fuck are you doing, you crazy bitch? Let me go, now! What the hell are you thinking? People will hear…”

“Oh, don’t make a sound. I don’t want my father to…”

“Really? You brought me to your own home? You really are that stupid, huh? Let’s see what your dad thinks of his dyke daughter when she sees what you’ve done! Help! Sir, please! In your daughter’s room!”

Steps stomping outside. A man entered the room. Finally. Victory! Now the crazy dyke would get what was coming to her, and Kate would have a brand new story to bury the little cunt’s reputation even further. Maybe even hold the possibility of jail over her head.

“Andrea! What the hell is this? What are you doing?”, the man said, suitably shocked.

“Daddy! I’m so sorry! I… I just…”

“Didn’t I tell you to let me know as soon as she woke up?”

“You did. Sorry, Daddy. I’ve been a naughty little girl… will you punish me later?”

“Later, yes. Now we have work to do, don’t we, baby girl?”

“Yes we do, Daddy!” she chirped before giving in to a long, deep kiss with the man.

What. The. Fuck.

“Oh, I’m sorry!”, laughed Andrea. “Did you think he would help you? Kate, Kate… Ignorant as always. For one, I’m not a dyke, I’m bi- not that you care, but I figured a little education can’t hurt. And another thing about me: I have the bestest Daddy in the whole world! And my Daddy would do anything for me, because I’m his perfect, slutty good girl… and he’s very, very good at training good girls! Well, maybe ‘training’ isn’t the right word. How about… ‘breaking’? You know, like a horse! And we’ll make you such a good, good girl!”

Panic set in.

“Crazy! You’re both fucking crazy!”

Kate squirmed, a scream dying in her throat as Andrea crawled on the bed, swaying like a terrible feline, giving her dad a marvelous show. She lightly touched the inside of Kate’s thighs as she made her way up… before flashing the knife in front of the poor captive’s eyes.

“If I were you”, cooed Andrea, “I’d be very, very still for this part.”

Kated hated that her body seemed to instinctively do as the fucking dyke told. She froze, every muscle locked tight. She closed her eyes, and prayed to no deity in particular. Please. Please. Make it stop.

Kate shuddered as she felt something cold barely grazing her, almost between her legs. Terrible images flashed inside her mind. I might die here. A second later, she felt air caressing her private areas. She opened her eyes, only to see Andrea’s mad smile as she held the remains of Kate’s panties in her hand, skillfully cut off her body. 

“Not the sexiest of panties, I must say. I’m a bit disappointed! But…” Andrea brought the panties to her nose and took a deep, gratifying sniff. “There’s something alluring there. Oh! You’ve never had the pleasure of smelling a nice cunt, have you? No, you’re so very, very straight… you’d never do that, right? Well, you’ve been missing out. Time to fix that.”

Andrea carefully, almost lovingly, tied the panties around Kate’s face. Every breath now was an assault, a reminder of how powerless she was. A humiliation.

“Better get used to it, you stuck-up slut. You’ll be tasting the real thing soon enough. But…” Andrea leaped off the bound body of her foe. “What am I thinking? You’re straight! So, I take it you’d enjoy a big, hard cock more than my… dyke attentions, won’t you? Well, how about some Daddy cock? Won’t you love that? I know you will.”

Andrea skipped, child-like to her father. He was watching the scene before him, almost panting. A beast ready to be unleashed.

“Look!” chirped Andrea. “He’s so, so hard for you already! You should be flattered! Well, no point delaying the inevitable, I say. Ready to feel this big cock ramming into that tight pussy, you bitch?”

“No… no, please, don’t… I’ll… I’m sorry for… for everything! Please, please, please…”

“A little late for that, you evil cunt! Now get ready to be used like the fucking cumrag you are!”

Kate tensed up and shut her eyes hard enough to make them hurt. She braced herself for pain, for agony. She tried to somehow make her mind escape somewhere, anywhere else. Wasn’t that something that happened in these situations? Some sort of protective dissociation? And yet her mind was nailed in place, as stuck to the bed as her body. She waited, shaking… and nothing happened.

“How rude of me!”, mocked Andrea. “I almost made my daddy take that pussy dry! That would hurt a lot! I could help with that situation, you know… but you’re not a filthy pervert like me, that likes cock and pussy alike… so… I have to say, I’m a bit conflicted! Wouldn’t want to make you a dyke against your will! But you can choose. Dry or dyke? Huh? Too shy to speak now, you cunt? Answer me! Dyke. Or. Dry.”

Kate couldn’t believe her ears. An image of the knife flashed in her mind. Fear took hold. Feel of pain, primal, deep. The promise of less pain seemed like an imperative, and her mouth spoke before she could stop it.

“Dyke…” she mumbled.

“Sorry? I couldn’t quite hear that”, saud Andrea.

“Dyke! Dyke! Dyke, goddamn you!”

“She’s out! She’s loud! She’s proud! Welcome to the club, sister! Now relax and let me introduce you to a brand new world…”

It felt gross. It felt odd. Kate tried to reframe it. It’s just lubrication. It’s just making it easier for later. It means nothing. It’s just a tongue. It’s just…

Andrea was good. Extremely so. She took pride in her oral skills and was using all her talents, all her tricks on Kate. Not because she wanted the little bitch to feel good: simply because she knew that pleasure would make her suffer as much as the pain to come. Every involuntary thrust of Kate’s hips, every muffled moan that escaped her lips was a step towards conquest… and Andrea felt like a warlord, like a terrible goddess exacting just revenge…

“Now that wasn’t so bad, was it?” she giggled. “But we can’t have you cumming like that… not when dear Daddy has been so, so patient!”

Fear crept from beneath the disgust Kate felt with herself. A part of her had enjoyed it, and she hated herself for it. Her body was starting to betray her, and that, more than anything, was terrifying. But now the pain would come. She knew that for a fact.

“Daddy, my sweet, sweet Daddy… break the cunt”, said Andrea.

“Please… don’t…” managed to mutter Kate.

It was in vain.

It did hurt. The man was a beast, savage, thrusting into Kate without the slightest care for her pleasure or comfort, using her body like an object to take out all his messed up frustrations, his fantasies, whatever was mixed up in the storm inside his brain. Kate whimpered and yelped and tried not to scream. And in her ear, a warm breath, whispering to her constantly.

“Good girl… won’t you cry for me? Like you made me cry so many times? You fucking slut… don’t fight it… you know what you are, deep down… don’t you miss my sweet tongue on your cunt? Relax… let it happen… you deserve this… and I’ve earned it… your pain… and what you will be for me later… when the pain is gone…”

Part of her mind was aware enough to realize Andrea was rubbing herself right beside her. But most of her mind was focused on the sensation between her legs, the burning, the feeling she was being torn apart… and something worse, slowly creeping its way into the strange mixture assaulting her consciousness. Andrea saw it immediately.

“It’s better now, isn’t it? You can feel it… it’s okay. You don’t have to lie. Not to me. We are sisters now, after all. I, made by the cock that is remaking you! It’s so… poetic, isn’t it? You are a slut. You’ve always been a slut, deep down… all you needed was someone to prove to you that a slut is all you need to be. All you deserve to be. No more queen bee at college for you! And I know you will be such a good little girl for Daddy…”

“Fuck… fuck you…”

“Oh, you’ll get to do that too! Want a taste?”

Andrea started slowly, kissing Kate’s neck, nibbling it, giving her victim goosebumps. Then she delicately removed her bra, and lips met sensitive skin. Kate’s nipples, hard against her will, were assaulted by kisses, suction, skillful licks. Andrea toyed with Kate, varying the pressure, the speed of her tongue, inserting playful little bites into the game. Measuring. Learning. Deciphering every preference, every weak point. To Kate’s horror, the pain was starting to feel duller, as if coming from far away. The pleasure, on the other hand, was sharper, demanding, a hungry thing coming from her own traitorous body. It was hard to think. Hard to keep any single idea in frame inside her mind. Too many stimuli, coming from too many places, attacking different parts of her idea of self. She felt as if she was drowning in sensation.

Andrea made her way down, slowly, as her father’s thrusts became a bit slower. Stamina wasn’t infinite, but she was quite confident that together they could get the job done. Together, they could do anything. It took a bit of careful positioning, but soon the tip of her tongue was able to tease the little cunt’s clit and even give her dear Daddy a little extra lick when he pulled his beautiful cock out, only to ram it into Kate again. Oh, if only this moment could last forever. Father and daughter locked eyes for a moment, in something that felt like a twisted perversion of love. It was time to move on to the next step.

Kate couldn’t stop squirming. Couldn’t stop moaning. Couldn’t stop her fucking body from reacting to the big cock inside her, the tongue playing her pussy like a violin, her own shame turned into a corruption of pleasure, disgust with herself that swirled and shifted and somehow enhanced the feelings that were eroding her sanity. And then, it snuck up on her.

Kate came, harder than ever in her life. Any pretense was undone at that moment. Her body was too honest. But the fucked up father and daughter team didn’t stop. No, they paused for only a second or two before resuming their work. It was too much. Kate shook as she came again. And again. And again.

She was exhausted. Too exhausted to fight anymore. Too confused to protest anything Andrea said. Her words just permeated, unfiltered, into Kate’s mind.

“...tell you? You can be such a good little whore… and we can be Daddy’s sluts together! Don’t you think he deserves it? His cock made you cum so much… your pain gave it so much pleasure… it owns you now. And you’ll love it, I know you will. We’ll make you love it so, so much, until you forget what a fucking bitch you were before…”

Kate didn’t even notice when the restraints were removed. There were stronger ones in place now, and she could feel them. Inside her head. She had been defeated. She had been conquered. She had surrendered.

“On all fours”, Daddy said. He didn’t have to say it twice. Kate complied. 

“Word on campus is that your little ass is the one hole you’ve been saving up for someone special! Well, I say you’ve met someone very special! So now Daddy will take the last bit of you and you’ll finally be entirely his! Isn’t that exciting? But… what about your poor fellow slut? I mean, I gave you pleasure too! I say I deserve a treat. So… you get pain for Daddy and he gets to watch you eat a pussy for the first time! What a show it will be! And we’ll make it a show, won’t we, sis?”

Yes. Whatever Andrea said. It was easier to comply. Easier to obey. Easier to just accept. It would hurt. Good. If her pain was what they wanted, they would have it. She would have sex with another girl. Good. If they wanted her to dyke out, she would. 

Kate’s screams sent vibrations through Andrea’s pussy, only making Kate’s inexperienced attempts at eating her out so much more delicious. Andrea felt like a queen, being serviced as she deserved. Mike was a beast, finally letting out something that had been suppressed in shame for far too long. Kate let her body take over, turning even pain into something else, something like purpose, or atonement. In a single day, all three had changed. Forever.

The tight, virgin ass, paired with the spectacle of this girl pleasuring his sweet little girl sent Mike over the edge. He barely managed to pull out before cumming with an intensity that shocked even himself. Kate’s back was soaked, and some drops had even landed on his own daughter’s breasts. 

Andrea licked her lips.

“Kate… sis… why don’t we clean each other up for Daddy?”

V - Epilogue

Mike woke up to the sensation of tongues on his cock, as was the norm. He let himself relax and sink into pleasure. To think that half a year ago, the idea of even looking at his daughter had felt revolting! How silly he had been. They loved each other. They made each other their best versions of themselves. Their most perverted versions. 

And Kate… how lovely it had all been. Sure, it had taken a little while for her to fully enter the family, but now she and her adoptive sister were inseparable. They went shopping for slutty outfits, they did their camshows together to make Daddy money… they had even made out in front of the Dean when they announced they were dropping out of college to be full-time whores. It was tender, in a way. Kate’s addiction to pain and humiliation had come as a bit of a surprise, but a welcome one- especially by Andrea, who had started to explore her sadistic side more and more.

Of course, they both adored Daddy. They were always ready, always willing to please him. After far too many years of gray, dull effort and solitude, Mike felt happy. He let himself enjoy that fact.

After he came, the girls licked each other clean, moaning as they savored their Daddy’s cum. With bright smiles, they leaped on the bed with Mike.

“Good morning, Daddy!” they said in unison.

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Every bit helps!

[bugsmunched]

"My man💕" - Logan Howlett x Trans! Man! Reader!

Summary: Logan is very upset on Readers behalf after a visit to his transphobic parents.

Tw: TRANSPHOBIA, reader uses he/him pronouns, reader is AFAB, reader has transphobic parents, reader has internalized transphobia, reader is trans and has been out for several years, Logan is very mad on readers behalf, grumpy Logan, sweet fluff

WC: 1,231

Requests are open! I'm specifically hyperfixated on Deadpool and Wolverine rn but I'm also working on a Charles Xavier x Male reader x Erik lensherr fic!

Sorry if this is bad lol, it's a little self indulgent and I also wrote it at work in one day without proof reading it.

Logan was fuming when you both came home - but not at you, no never at you. He was mad for you this time, nostrils flared as the door slammed shut behind him.

“Lo’ I told you it's fin-”

“It's not fine Y/n. It's far from fine. “ Logan growled, tossing his jacket onto a nearby chair.

The two of you had just returned from your parents house – you were introducing Logan to your parents. He knew that they weren't the most accepting in the whole world, but what you hadn't told him is that they still refused to gender you correctly, even after being on HRT for several years.

“They're always like that, Logan, it's fine, really. “ You tried to reassure your grumpy boyfriend , but to no avail.

“How is that fine?! They dead-named you repeatedly! “

You could feel yourself beginning to become upset from the dinner, but not Logan's behavior. He was justified in his anger, but you were just tired. Tired of your parents' ignorance and hateful actions. You let out a sigh, pinching the bridge of your nose, closing your eyes for a moment. This whole night was giving you a headache. “It's just who they are, Logan. They're still my parents. “

“Still your parents?! Fuck that. They don't deserve to talk to you, and they definitely don't deserve your attention.”

You swallowed back some tears as you collapsed onto the couch, holding your head in your hands. “just drop it.” You muttered quietly, staring at the floor, avoiding Logan's watchful gaze.

Logan opened his mouth to speak again but turned to look at you, his heart dropping at the sight. “I didn't mean to upset you, sweetheart. “ He said softly, his tone switching up in an instant. He walked around to the front of the couch and kneeled in front of you, cautiously placing a hand on your knee.

“You're fine Logan. You have every right to be upset. You have every right to be angry at my parents…and at me.”

“Be mad at you? Sweetheart, why on earth, this one or any other, would I be mad at you??” He asked, suddenly very concerned.

“ Because I didn't tell you the truth…and because I just let it happen…every time. I just let them misgender me. I have no backbone…” You muttered dejectedly.

“Oh my handsome boy…look at me. “ he whispered softly as he slipped a finger under your chin, making you look at him. Your eyes were glossed over as you held back tears.

“I would never ever blame you for this. This is not your fault. Your parents’ stupidity is not your fault, it never has been and never will be. You had hoped that they would behave themselves for a guest…but it is not your fault that behaved so badly. “ He said as he moved his hand up, cupping your cheek gently. He rubbed your cheek with his coarse thumb, watching as you hesitantly leaned into his touch.

“I'm sorry for getting so upset and causing a scene at dinner. I didn't mean to embarrass your mother like that, sweetheart. I just couldn't take it anymore.” He apologized sincerely, his voice calm and gentle. “ I just don't understand how they could look at you, my handsome baby boy, and honestly call you a girl. I mean they might've just as well called me ‘she’ and referred to me as like Anne or some shit. “

That made you laugh, just a little bit, which made your gruff boyfriend smile. “ There he is…there's my boy. “ He said encouragingly.

You sniffled a little bit, nuzzling into his rough, calloused hand. “ they're right though…I'm not a ‘real man’. And I never will be…”

“I'm sorry. What?” Logan asked, pulling his hand away from your face, standing up. “ They told you that?” His voice became rough, his breathing became heavy. You whined a little bit at the loss of his warm hand pressed against your skin.

“Yeah they've like…told me that every time I see them. They want to make sure that I know I'm not a real man. That I'm just an imposter. “

You could see Logan's eyes darken, his hands tensing as his claws threatened to slip free as he loomed over you. “That's it. No one tells my boy that. I don't care if they're your parents. They need to be taught a lesson- cause what they're spitting is horse shit. “

“Calm down! “ You said quickly, standing up and placing a hand on his shoulder. “Just, calm down Logan. “ He could see panic in your eyes, and instantly his muscles relaxed.

“Sorry, sweetheart, I got a little carried away there. “ He muttered softly, flexing his hands gently to relax them so his claws would appear. He rubbed the back of his neck a bit sheepishly. “ But seriously, what they're spitting is horse shit. You are a real man, I mean just look at you. “ He gestured to your body, letting his gaze wander a little bit.

“You're just saying that because you're my boyfriend, you feel like you have to. But they're right…” you muttered, shying away from his piercing gaze.

“No. “ He growled a little bit, but he wasn't growling at you, just the meaning of your words. They frustrated him, to know that you didn't perceive yourself as a “real man” - if there even was such a thing as a real man. He grabbed your face with both of his hands, forcing you to look up at him since you were now both standing. “Sweetheart, in no world are your parents correct about that. Not this universe or any other. Just because you weren't born in a man's body does not make you any less of a man. There is no blueprint for what makes a man, you make your own blueprint. You're a real man, you just happen to be a self made man. “ He said softly, stroking the sides of your face.

You nuzzled into his hands once more, eyes fluttering shut for hair a moment. “ Do you mean it Logan?” You asked softly, worried that he was lying about the whole thing. You always worried if he perceived you as a man in your relationship. You always worried that he only treated you with love because he truly saw you as a woman.

You had shared some of those thoughts with him in the past, and just like now he shut that down immediately. There was absolutely no chance he was going to let you think that he didn't see you as what you are : a man.

“Of course I mean it, baby. You're my man after all, and why would I lie to my man?” He asked softly as he pulled you close to his chest, your chest pressing flush against him. You could hear his heartbeat, steady as ever.

After a few moments of silence, with your face buried in his chest, Logan missed the top of your head gently before beginning to stroke your hair softly. “Can we make a deal though?”

“What kind of deal, Lo?”

“If we ever go over to your parents house I get to curse them out. “

You chuckled a little bit and nodded against his chest. “ I can deal with that…”

Silence fell over the room once again, the two of you intertwined in a tight embrace.

“Thank you, Logan. “

“No problem, sweetheart. “