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childofchrist1983 · 1 year ago

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For it is God which worketh in you both to will and to do of his good pleasure. Do all things without murmurings and disputings: That ye may be blameless and harmless, the sons of God, without rebuke, in the midst of a crooked and perverse nation, among whom ye shine as lights in the world; Holding forth the word of life; that I may rejoice in the day of Christ, that I have not run in vain, neither laboured in vain. - Philippians 2:13-16 KJV

I love that we are told to do all things without complaining and arguing! If you have children, you know how difficult it is to get them to do their chores, their homework, empty the garbage, etc. without complaining or arguing. Imagine how God feels about us - His creation and His children - who argue and complain a lot about doing the right thing. Yet, Paul is telling the Philippians that this is what God asks of us. Paul is also telling them that he hopes his work among them was not in vain. This also is a familiar sentiment of parents who worry about their children. God knows what will make us happy, even when we think we know better than God does. He knows that living a moral life will save us a lot of pain and guilt. He knows that prayer will keep us close to Him. He also knows that obeying Him and His Holy Word and Spirit will keep us safe.

Liars can't be trusted and can't trust others; violence begets violence; envy and lead to dissatisfaction and could lead to theft; but love begets love. When we help someone else, we have a sense of satisfaction that doing something for ourselves doesn't bring. Even if we begin whatever task it is with fear or insecurity, once we have completed the task, we feel enriched. Whether it is serving food at a food kitchen or reading to school children, or just cooking a meal for a neighbor who is ill, we feel better afterwards. The same goes for telling someone you'll pray for them, even if they are not a believer, or attending a Church function, even if it's not your Church. Whatever God is asking us to do, let's do it without complaining or arguing. God wants us to be happy, but He also wants us to trust and follow Him. He knows that if we listen to Him and follow His way of love and forgiveness, we will truly be happy, free and at peace. May He forgive those times when we complain that His way is too hard, and may He give us the grace, courage and strength we need to walk with Him and do His will daily. May He teach us to watch our words when we pray to Him and to speak reverently and rightly. And may He teach us also to speak only kindness and truth with our neighbors that we may be men and women of our word. We must always respect God and His power and remain hopeful in His plans for our lives. May we continually ask God to transform our hearts and make us faithful and humble as we walk with Him daily. By surrendering our hearts and our lives to His will, we see all the blessings He has bestowed upon us. God our refuge and our salvation and our constant provider. We lift our voices to Him in praise for His steadfast love, mercy and understanding. Let us seek Him and a better understanding of His Holy Word daily, not for the sake of entertainment or mere accumulation of knowledge, but that we may love and serve Him more and more with each day that passes. We must come to Father God Almighty and the LORD Jesus Christ with honest, humble and repentant hearts. We must seek Him and His will and choose to follow Him all the days of our lives. May He help transform our hearts, help us to seek and live for Him above all else and to grow spiritually and build our faith and relationship with Him with each passing day. May He forgive our sinful nature and help us always make Him and our relationship with Him top priority.

As true and born-again Christians, we choose to walk in His righteous path and lead a life that is pleasing to Him. We desire Him and His will above anything else. We desire to walk in accordance with the love and light He has shown to us through His Holy Word and Spirit. We long for a deeper relationship with Him and a deeper fellowship with our brothers and sisters in Christ as well. When we fall into temptation and sin, we must turn to Him for forgiveness, strength and guidance. When believers learn to walk in accordance with God's Holy Word and Spirit, they have deeper fellowship with both God and one another. And the sin that could threaten to destroy that fellowship, if confessed (1 John 1:9), is covered in the blood of Jesus Christ and no longer a barrier between us and God. May we ask Father God Almighty and the LORD Jesus Christ to forgive us for any sins we have sinned this day or in days past. May we be faithful to Him and His Holy Word always. May He help us to walk more consistently in the light and to not neglect long to confess and forsake any sins that hinder our walk with Him. May He lead us in the direction He wants us to go so that we may seek and serve Him faithfully. God is holy and almighty and deserving of all praise honor and glory. We rejoice in Father God Almighty and the LORD Jesus Christ, knowing He is the same yesterday, today, and forever (Hebrews 13:8). He is the Alpha and the Omega (Revelation 1:8). May our hearts always be filled with thanksgiving and rejoicing. May He help us to praise Him freely and honestly like all believers who came before us. May we live a life that showcases our love and trust in Him and His Holy Word and Spirit as He uses us draw others to Him and His soul-saving Gospel Truth daily. May He continue guide, correct and protect us, so that we continue to grow in Him and not weaken and stray. May we all remain faithful to Him and to this duty and purpose He has called us to. Seek and put your faith and trust in Father God Almighty and the LORD Jesus Christ and let Him do the rest. May He humble our hearts and help us focus on following and serving Him daily and helping others with joy and happiness. We lift our voices in praise to Him for His love, mercy, peace, faithfulness and grace - For EVERYTHING!

It is vital that we remain rooted in Father God Almighty and the LORD Jesus Christ through prayer and His Holy Word and Spirit and that we live and walk as a beacon of His light and love and share and spread the Gospel Truth daily, so that the lost souls in this world can come to know Him and be saved. The more we focus on Father God Almighty and the LORD Jesus Christ, growing spiritually by building our relationship with Him, leaning on Him and His Holy Word and Spirit, the better off we will be. Thanks to this and our faith in Him, we know that everything will be alright. And we will forever be grateful to Him. As true and born-again Christians, we believe in Him and His Holy Word and we strive daily to walk in His Holy Spirit. We know though our mortal bodies should die, He will raise us up and into new and glorious bodies (The Rapture). We who are truly His and alive at His second coming will never die, and our bodies will be changed in a moment, in the twinkling of an eye, and so shall we ever be with Him in His Kingdom of Heaven forevermore (1 Corinthians 15:51-52, 1 Thessalonians 4:16-17). This is one of many promises given to us by God Himself. Thank God for His strength and guidance when we are faced with sin and temptation. Thank Him for His mercy and grace. Through Bible study and prayer, God reveals His wisdom and guides us to see opportunities to grow closer to Him and grow spiritually. He gives us direction to live our lives daily according to His will.

Jesus Christ is the ONLY way to Heaven (John 3:5, 14:6), the ONLY way to salvation (Acts 4:12, Ephesians 2:8-9) and He is the resurrection and the life (John 11:25-26). Jesus Christ the LORD of lords, the KING of kings, the GOD of gods (Deuteronomy 10:17, 1 Timothy 6:15, Revelation 17:14, Revelation 19:16) - He is the Living, Almighty and Everlasting God (Isaiah 9:6, Revelation 1:8, John 3:16, John 3:36, Jeremiah 10:10). There is no other God besides Him (Isaiah 45:5). We MUST humble ourselves before Him, turning our backs on false teachers, false gods and idols and our sinful ways. We MUST repent and turn back to God and recognize who He is and love Him in return for His great love for us. We MUST make God top priority everyday! May we be motivated to spread God's Holy Word and Gospel Truth to all the Earth, knowing that it is the only hope of all those lost in their sins. Let us not hold out a false hope for men to be saved without the Gospel, but instead, strive to do our part to get the Gospel out to a lost and dying world.

Leaning on Father God Almighty and the LORD Jesus Christ through prayer and His Holy Word and Spirit strengthens us and our knowledge and wisdom about God and His Gospel Truth, exposing these imposters. May God help us to seek and lean on Him daily to gain the strength, wisdom and spiritual discernment needed to expose Satan and his imposters who seek to destroy us and God's ultimate Truth. Everyday, we must remember to share Jesus Christ's Gospel Truth with the world and to thank Father God Almighty and the LORD Jesus Christ for the grace that He poured out for us on the cross at Calvary. He has freed us from the burdens of sin and from the eternal damnation of Hell. In all we say and do, may all praise, honor and glory always be given to Him and His Kingdom of Heaven.

With renewed minds, hearts and wills, let us serve Him humbly and faithfully out of pure love and grateful rejoicing. May He remind us of His presence and to remain at peace, fully knowing that all will be well because He is always with us. Let us seek Father God Almighty and the LORD Jesus Christ today and everyday with all our heart and being, looking for His love, light and will for our lives with each step we take. Let us seek to please Him with our thoughts, words, and deeds and seek to advance His Kingdom of Heaven and His glory with our lives. Let us seek Him from a pure and humble heart, and when we so seek, we believe Him and His promise that we will find. May He help us all to be more sensitive to the teaching ministry of His Holy Word and Spirit, relying on Him and allowing Him to speak to us and guide us every step of our Christian journey.

God gave us the Holy Bible - His living and Holy Word - to let us know of Him and His abiding love and care as well as guide and prepare us for all our lives. May He help us encourage one another as we continue our walk with Him and our duty to Him daily. Thank Father God Almighty and the LORD Jesus Christ for being present for all our new beginnings and all our lives. May He redirect any anxiety we feel as He provides countless opportunities for growth and change. May we humble ourselves before God always, asking Him to forgive our sins and make our hearts and lives anew through His Holy Word and Spirit. May He help us make Him and His Holy Word top priority, so we can grow spiritually and grow in our relationship with Him as we apply it to our daily lives. Thank God that we can focus on Him and everything about Him, for that is what keeps us sane and at peace. May our words and actions always be a reflection of Him and His Holy Word and Spirit and will.

May He help us to always walk in His grace and Holy Spirit, not by our own measure. May He give us the humble humility to know that our freedom and eternal salvation is found only in Him, so that His grace may sustain us, and we may never lose sight of His love and light and mercy. Thank Father God Almighty and the LORD Jesus Christ for calling us to Him and to serve Him. May He equip us to do all that He has called us to do so that as He works through us, He may use us to produce fruit, to reach others, and to encourage all brothers and sisters in Christ. May He work all of these things in us and through us for His Kingdom and His glory. Thank Father God Almighty and the LORD Jesus Christ for all His creation, for His miraculous ways and for everything He does and has done for us! Keep the faith and keep moving forward in your walk with Jesus! He loves us and He knows what is best for us. Seek, follow and trust in Him - Always!

Thank Father God Almighty and the LORD Jesus Christ for His Holy Word and for sending His Holy Spirit so that we might have His grace, not only to awaken us and transform our hearts in our spiritual rebirth and guarantee our eternity with Him, but to also call upon Him whenever we are in need. Thank Father God Almighty and the LORD Jesus Christ for all the reminders of His love and mercy and faithfulness within His Holy Word. He is bigger than any challenge or circumstance in our lives. Knowing this within our minds and our hearts, nothing can deter our faith in Him and His Truth. May we all accept Him and His eternal gift of salvation and ask that He would transform our hearts and lives according to His will and ways. Thank Father God Almighty and the LORD Jesus Christ for His Holy Spirit who saves, seals and leads us. May we always thank Father God Almighty and the LORD Jesus Christ for His almighty power and saving grace. For He is our strength, and He alone is able to save us, forgive our sins and gift us eternal salvation and entry into His Kingdom of Heaven.

May we make sure that we give our hearts and lives to God and take time to seek and praise Him and share His Truth with the world daily. May the LORD our God and Father in Heaven help us to stay diligent and obedient and help us to guard our hearts in Him and His Holy Word daily. May He help us to remain faithful and full of excitement to do our duty to Him and for His glorious return and our reunion in Heaven as well as all that awaits us there. May we never forget to thank the LORD our God and our Creator and Father in Heaven for all this and everything He does and has done for us! May we never forget who He is, nor forget who we are in Christ and that God is always with us! What a mighty God we serve! What a Savior this is! What a wonderful LORD, God, Savior and King we have in Jesus Christ! What a loving Father we have found in Almighty God! What a wonderful God we serve! His will be done!

Thanks and glory be to God! Blessed be the name of the LORD! Hallelujah and Amen!

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onbearfeet · 1 year ago

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So I kinda went through a phase for a decade or so where I didn't want to read anything about women either, and I've done a lot of growing and changing as a person since then, and I may be able to offer a sliver of insight here.

In my particular case, it was about 25% internalized misogyny, and I'll admit that up front. I was raised fundie and anything to do with girls or women was heavily denigrated. I wanted to be a full person, and that meant being as un-girly as possible. This may not apply to you or anyone else; I'm just admitting my own biases before getting to my main thesis.

But the other 75% was ... I just didn't encounter any female characters I liked, or female authors I liked, and after a while I generalized that I must just not like women authors or fictional women and girls. (I was a literal adolescent. I did that kind of thing.) And partly it was publishing at the time--female writers were heavily segregated into "chick lit" whenever possible, and I didn't want to read love stories; baby ace that I was, I found them boring. And there were older books, foreign books, books by women with male pen names ... but I didn't get handed those (except Andre Norton). I got handed books by and about men, books that had been carefully curated and selected for their quality and appeal. Books by and about women were things I had to go out and find, and a random sampling of books will usually yield a lot more garbage than a carefully curated collection. So the girls and women I read about were mostly written by men, most of whom didn't write girls and women like real people, and the only female author I read by choice was Andre Norton, whose gender I didn't know. (Finding out "Andre" was a woman was actually what got me to give book-ladies another chance.)

I read a study some years ago that surveyed the back issues of a prominent book-review publication over several years. The study compared the output of the publishers submitting to the publication with the characteristics of the books that were selected for review, and found that male authors were many times more likely to get reviewed than female ones, especially when the reviewer was also male (which most of them were). This was true in every fictional genre surveyed except for the "girly" ones like romance and children's fiction, where female authors and reviewers both predominated. Women were less likely to get their reviews, or their books, in front of readers, and an unreviewed book is far less likely to sell. And not everyone wants to read romance.

That's all changing now, albeit at a glacial pace, mostly thanks to occasional Booktok hits, but at the top, American publishing remains a tiny, insular industry where women do nearly all the low-level grunt work and men make nearly all the major decisions. And as profits dwindle, male executives try to "trust their gut"--and their gut says no girls allowed. And of course there's the weight of a century of misogynistic publishing history to deal with, too. The backlist is hardly balanced.

So yes, it's truly possible that you genuinely prefer to read about men, and that's fine. It's also possible that you haven't met the right literary woman, possibly because you never had the chance. They do take more searching, even now, and not everyone has the time or energy for that. And maybe your female blorbo never got published at all.

In any case, I hope your blorbos are lovely and that you're very happy together.

On one hand I don't wanna have internalised misogyny because it's weird to be a woman and only like to read about men, but on the other hand I feel like I'm trying to conversion therapy myself out of what stories I find attractive — and I don't mean just smut, I mean any romance, if not any story at all. I like my male blorbos way more than my female blorbos. Maybe it's not my fault and all fictional women just suck (lol jk).

It really does feel like conversion therapy, doesn't it?

I don't think people pay enough attention to that. One changes one's tastes over time, so they're theoretically possible to change somewhat on purpose, but not directly and quickly like that. It feels awful to try to force that.

But also, anybody who thinks it's ~internalized misogyny~ to prefer to read about men is a dumbass with worthless opinions.

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giorno-plays-piano · 4 years ago

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Rusted Remnants

Pairing: Karl Heisenberg x mutant!Reader

Warnings: past noncon, smut, dirty talk, Stockholm syndrome, violence, mention of human experiments, swearing.

Words: 1924.

Summary: You felt better knowing he wouldn't have to leave for quite some time now, staring at the man as he leaned back against the pillow, watching the smoke slowly disappear in the air - Heisenberg wasn't your darling, but he's the only one who kept you sane in that fucking hole where human life mattered so little. Among other Lords he's the only one who had the resolve to fight that heartless bitch hiding behind the façade of a holy mother.

____________________

When a bearded man in sunglasses opened the door with a grinding, abrasive sound, you felt both fear and relief - Heisenberg was a mean son of a bitch who couldn’t stand people crossing him on anything, and you learned that the hard way. However, thanks to that insanely strong bastard who could smash in a Lycan’s skull with one swing of his hammer, you were still safe in his hideout, not having to worry about mutilated monsters this place was swarming with.

Besides, even though Heisenberg was as rotten and disgusting as any other Lord, he still had more human in him than Dimitrescu, Beneviento and Moreau altogether.

“Did you miss me, little monster?” He smirked, watching you laying in bed with some cheap romance novel you traded for bullets with the Duke: you had little hobbies since you barely left Heisenberg’s factory.

You rolled your eyes, knowing he hadn’t been home for a couple of days and now needed to get under your skin, feeding off your emotions like Alcina fed off her victims’ blood. It was something like a routine to him: he needed to know you had something human in you, too.

“Who else do you expect me to miss?” you snorted, leaving a worn book with a dirty yellow cover on the bed. “You know I don’t like when you leave for so long.”

“It’s not like I like it either.”

Leaving his monstrous hammer on the table full of blueprints, drawings, nails and all other things you were forbidden to touch, he took his glasses off, and you saw his weary eyes, the blood vessels widened in their white. It didn't happen often, but from time to time Heisenberg would abandon his façade of a smug, careless bastard, and then you could catch a glimpse of a deadly tired man who had long lost any hope to ever free himself from Miranda’s death grip. Something had happened in those couple of days when he had been wandering the woods and catacombs filled with Lycans, Samcăs, and Vârcolacs, and it certainly wasn’t good news if it stripped Heisenberg of his endless complacency.

Quietly slipping away from the bed, you put your shoes on while the man in front of you left his coat hanging on a chair and stilled, his dirty hands on the desk as he stared at it blankly. While he stood there, motionless, you turned on the large faucet in an improvised shower cabin - everything there had been old and rusty, and you needed time to adjust the temperature of water from icy cold to bearable cool or even hot if you were lucky enough. Thankfully, Karl never protested against showering, washing away dry blood, machine oil, muck and filth.

Saying nothing, you carefully lifted his hat, unclasped the belt on his chest and started unbuttoning his dirty shirt - nobody would believe it had been white once. Finally, Heisenberg came back to his senses, smirking and letting you strip him of his clothes, leaving his pants and huge heavy boots on the floor. As he stepped into the shower, he dragged you with him behind the old plastic curtains full of holes, and your nightgown got drenched within a couple of seconds, water pouring over your head. You didn’t protest anymore, knowing the man wouldn’t let you go until he blew off some steam, pushing you into a wet stone wall and wrecking you ass till you started sobbing - he loved when you squeezed his fat cock with your pussy, but Heisenberg couldn’t risk getting you pregnant, leaving his child to be endlessly tortured by that holy bitch until she turned his baby into some fucking monster doll. Sometimes he could buy some condoms from the Duke, but it was still a rare occasion, so most of the time Heisenberg spent using your other holes, filling you to the brim with his cum until he felt satisfied.

"Wearing that white nightgown like some noble slut from Alcina's castle." he growled into your ear from behind, grinding against your ass, his callous fingers gripping your hips as he forced you spread your legs for him. "Did you do it on purpose, baby? Did you want to bounce on my cock so bad?"

Turning your head to him, you didn't get a chance to speak up when the man crashed his mouth into yours, his arm lifting up the drenched fabric of your nightgown and baring your flesh. Landing a loud smack to your ass, he grinned through the kiss: he loved it when you behaved well around him, taking whatever he was giving you like a good girl you were.

You didn’t mind. At first the thought of him touching you had been giving you panic attacks and nausea, but as years flew by, nothing changing in this Hell of a place where sanity was a privilege, you clung to Heisenberg in a desperate attempt to feel human again - even if it was something as primitive as grinding your bodies against each other.

As he rubbed his cock in between your shaking thighs pressed together, you moaned, the water cascading down your bodies while Heisenberg fondled your breasts, biting and nipping his way down your neck.

"You're going nowhere until I fuck the shit out of you."

_________

Breathing in the smell of his Cuban cigars, you watched Heisenberg smoke as he laid close to you, his naked body barely covered by a blanket: his skin was littered with nasty scars, and it seemed like every centimeter of it had once been burned, cut or bitten. Some of them were so old you could barely see them, others relatively knew where the scar tissue was still angry red and thick: most of the time he got them while working on his personal army down there, but with his regenerative abilities they were like a kitten bite to him. Of course, even of they weren't, Heisenberg would still pretend like it was nothing, wearing his shit-eating grin.

"The holy whore is up to something," he says after long minutes of silence, ash falling to the floor from his cigar, "and I don't like that I know fucking nothing of her plans."

You felt better knowing he wouldn't have to leave for quite some time now, staring at the man as he leaned back against the pillow, watching the smoke slowly disappear in the air - Heisenberg wasn't your darling, but he's the only one who kept you sane in that fucking hole where human life mattered so little. Among other Lords he's the only one who had the resolve to fight that heartless bitch hiding behind the façade of a holy mother. You couldn't call him sane, but he had enough sanity to remember what Miranda did to all of you and how fucking twisted was her desire to have a family. You weren't her children, regardless how many times Moreau was going to call her his mother. Whatever she did to you or those miserable villagers, her cannon fodder, she did only to revive her real daughter, and the thought had been making you sick since the times Heisenberg told you about Miranda's past.

"You think it's something big?"

"Yeah. She keeps disappearing into thin air, and I can't find a trace of her anywhere at all."

You grew silent, staring at the blanket with empty eyes: it certainly wasn't a good sign. Where was she going if even Heisenberg couldn't locate her? Was she crossing the forest to get to the outer world? The last time it happened she brought to the world one more horrifying monster with a face of a little girl. The only thing you knew about her was that she was destroyed a couple of years ago, just a failed experiment like all those Miranda had been involved in.

"I think she partners up with someone, some organization that can give her what she wants like, you knew, she did before." You muttered, and Heisenberg stared at you, narrowing his frightening light eyes.

"With whom could the old bitch partner?"

"I don't know, but I know she brought someone with her, willingly or not."

Now you had his full attention as he turned to you, his eyes burning a hole in your face. "Who did she bring here? How the fuck do you know?"

Rolling over to your stomach and hugging a pillow - a real pillow you got from the Duke a month ago, not that pile of garbage the man had been sleeping on for ages - you let out a loud sigh. You weren’t eager to go exploring the factory even though you knew where his soldiers were, but you couldn't just stay in his room for the rest of your days, and sometimes you would get out for a couple of hours, wandering empty corridors with rusted doors.

At first it was subtle. You knew this place well, but you couldn't sense monsters or people getting in the way Miranda did even after Cadou implantation. You just wandered the same places over and over, collecting semi-precious stones, bullets and other things you could trade for something with a merchant. As the time flew by, the feeling of uneasiness was washing over you as you stepped into certain rooms, got into certain places. There was nothing peculiar there, nothing that would catch your attention, but something was still eating you up as if you knew something wasn't right.

At one point you realized that what disturbed you were things moving from their original places - changes were small, barely noticeable for someone who didn't spend hundreds of hours walking around here, but you could know put your finger on what was wrong. Who was it? You knew it weren't the Lords who had no business here. Besides, the Master of Metal could always feel their presence. Obviously, it weren't humans from the village for whom the factory was sacred, and monsters possessed too little intelligence to put things on their places in the very same order. You thought it could be Mother Miranda, but she wouldn't be sneaky if she really wanted to show Heisenberg his place.

Now it all made sense. You knew the outer world would learn about this place sooner or later, especially after that monster girl incident, and it only proved the idea Miranda brought someone with her.

"I think it's someone smart, Karl. Someone who will either destroy Miranda or try to take control of her - and us, maybe." You said after telling him about your little adventures, and the man smirked, stroking your back. Of course, after her little Eveline had been released into the world, he had thoughts about other organizations having their fair share of Megamycete,

“Someone we can use against her, then.” He whispered, his eyes dark and perceptive as he leant closer, dropping a kiss to your shoulder, his complacency getting back as he sent you a smug grin, slapping your ass loudly. “Good job, little monster. Good job.”

Rolling you over on your back, he got on top of you, pushing your legs apart and licking his lips at the sight of your naked pussy right in front of him, his fingers digging into the soft flesh of your thighs.

“I’ve forgot to tell you baby," he grinned at you when you squirmed from his touch, his thumb already tracing tiny little circles against your clit. “I’ve got a rubber, so you better milk me dry with that sweet little cunt of yours.”

#karl heisenberg x reader #karl heisenberg #resident evil village #resident evil heisenberg #resident evil

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softquietsteadylove · 2 years ago

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What about 'You doesn't believe in love not until you met someone' trope? I'd love to see Gilgamesh as that someone who doesn't believe in love and Thena being the someone that made him believe in love (I've read the mob boss x secretary au and I loved it, I just loved the idea of everything turning around this time).

Gil doesn't really believe in love. Not that he doesn't believe it exists at all--that would be ridiculous. But he's not sure he really believes it's for him.

He might have considered himself a romantic at some point in his life. He's always liked cooking, some other kind of artsy things. He might have once imagined he'd be a great cook, maybe have someone special with whom to share his talents and ideas.

But, well...life. It happens, it stretches out, it gets in the way of things and ideas once imagined. Like when he learns that his father is actually a piece of garbage who only thinks of his wife and own children as tokens in his business pursuits. Or when his sister's husband up and leaves without a word to any of them.

Things like that might have led Gil to believe that love isn't what he once he thought.

But Gil is fine with the idea that he's going to be alone. He likes people just fine, he still gets out enough, still talks to people at his job with the bakery. And the early mornings are soothing, just him and the bread and the ovens. Sometimes he makes himself some eggs.

He just doesn't think love is for him.

"Y'ever considered givin' it a chance, though?" Druig asks him one day during his apprenticeship. He's ready to start baking himself any day now, but he's dragging his feet about it. Gil thinks it's because there's some girl he likes who comes in close to closing time everyday, and if he has to start getting up at 3 or 4 in the morning then he'll be done before she comes in.

"Not you too," Gil grumbles, slipping the croissants away to proof before he throws them in the ovens for tomorrow.

"What can I say?" Druig shrugs in his own measly defense. "It's that time'a year."

Yes, and Gil does not need reminding of it. It's already awful that the bakery walls have little heart decorations and all the icing on the cakes is pink and there are sprinkles and it all makes him sick.

"Brighten up, mate," Druig nudges him a little more gently on his way to the walk-in. "You'll scare away the public at this rate."

Gil sighs. Maybe he has a point. Maybe he's starting to become a real prick about it. Maybe he's let it be such a part of him for so long that he's just stubbornly making it a part of his life at this point.

He just doesn't think love is for him.

"Hello?"

Gil goes out to the front, surprised to see not just Druig's 'beautiful, beautiful Makkari' but another woman as well. He raises his brows at both of them. The taller one - with hair like powdered sugar - just stares right back at him. He looks at Makkari. Druig?

She blushes but nods. Gil holds up the counter for her to go back and visit with him, but she looks at her friend.

"I'll wait," Blondie says, although she doesn't sound entirely enthused about it. Maybe she's also had to suffer their insipid sweet talk and canoodling.

Makkari elbows her and tugs at her beige trench coat. She looks between them before giving Blondie a pointed look. Talk.

Bondie sighs but nods, letting Makkari scurry behind the counter and to go giggle with Druig in the back.

"You, uh," Gil closes the counter again and tugs at his apron, "want something?"

She meets his eye. She isn't even actively glaring, she just has eyes so intense he feels like the air pressure around him has changed. They're a beautiful colour, he has to admit. "Do you have anything not valentine's day themed?"

"Mm," Gil purses his lips and rubs at the hair on his chin. He knows for a fact that all of the pastries on display are specifically valentine's themed. He looks up at the shelves behind him. "You like brown bread?"

She smiles, and he has to admit it's a nice smile. "Thanks for trying."

"I'm not really the one responsible for," he gestures to the pastry case full to the brim with white and pink and red and sprinkles, "this. I don't blame you."

"I suppose it's unavoidable," she concedes, unfolding her stiff posture and drifting closer to the brightly lit case. Her eyes travel over the display. "Is it so much to ask it be confined to the day itself? I might even be able to tolerate it if it were one day instead of two solid weeks."

"Hey, I agree," Gil snorts, leaning on the top of the counter lazily. It's not exactly a shining example of customer service, but he has a feeling she won't complain. "But you know what people are like about this stuff."

"Indeed." She finishes her examination of the sweets and looks up again. Her eyes dash to the back hall, but Makkari is still back there with her own sweet. She looks at Gil again, "Thena, by the way."

"What, like the goddess of war?" he asks, and is met with only the most serious of nods. It kind of suits her, though, he thinks. His eyes travel over her.

"Exactly so," she raises a brow, as if to ask him if he has a problem with her name being what it is.

"It's quite a name," he comments neutrally. "But mine's Gilgamesh, so I can't really talk any shit."

"I suppose not," she tilts her head at him. "You're not how I imagined."

"And how's that?" he asks, slumping against the counter again. He might as well talk to her while Druig and Makkari are having their little moment.

"Kari described her little gremlin back there," Thena nods her head in their general direction. "And his coworker--a big guy, she said. Thinks he's intimidating but has a heart of gold?"

"Well, I could still have a heart of gold, you don't know."

"Do you?"

"No, but you don't know that."

Thena lets out a laugh, and it's a nice laugh, he has to admit. "You know, I bet it's pretty golden."

"You think?" he frowns. He certainly doesn't think he presents as some gentle giant. If anything, maybe he goes out of his way to be as unfriendly as his job with allow. It keeps him from having to talk to people more than necessary.

Thena keeps smiling at him, though, and it does something to him. He likes it. "I think you make a good show of having a tough outside. But I'm willing to bet that you're quite the softie."

That's rich, coming from a woman who looks like a sunbeam in human form. He turns his frown into a scowl, "what makes you say that?"

She raises a brow at him again, and his stupid little heart starts arguing with his big dumb brain. "You've been letting Makkari come in for weeks now, always close to when you're trying to close, always letting her distract Druig while you shut things down by yourself?"

Gil is shocked. Sure, everything she's said is technically correct. But...well, just because he doesn't think love is for him, doesn't mean he would get in the way of Druig's chance at happiness.

Thena leans against the counter, getting up on her toes to lean closer to him. "She's going to ask him out today. I'm here for moral support."

Gil is still shocked. What feels like a lifetime of declaring that romance is overrated, and this woman sees right through him after knowing him for ten minutes.

"I'm not sure why I agreed to it," Thena sighs, although her smile still hasn't left. If anything, it grows wider and brighter. It's one hell of a smile. "Maybe I have some romanticism left in me."

Maybe love is for him.

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maglors-anion-gap · 2 years ago

Note

Hehehee Morwen and Maedhros and Húrin for the bingo

-@outofangband

I love the little "heehee" :) we're just passing bingo sheets back and forth knowing it's going to spawn more WIPs on top of our already long wip list, we know what we're doing to each other.

morwen:

Morwen is always right, and she always knows what she's doing. On this we agree. Other characters are not sold on this, and they are thus In The Wrong.

morwen is in the wrong genre not because she doesn't fit in the silm narrative (she does, to the great misfortune of herself and everyone else) but because i want her to have a happy ending and jirt was wrong to deny that to her and her family.

So, most of "Needing therapy" goes hand in hand with "Autism" because Morwen is autistic (this is an objective truth, jirt came to @outofangband and me in a dream and said so). Morwen is not treated well by people who don't understand her and who make no effort to do so, even people who don't have any overt ill will towards her. Trauma of losing her home and her family, the healers in brethil mistreating her, and then being adopted into Hurin's people, some of whom treat her well and some not so much, loss of culture and routine, there's so much to say and my dms with outofangband are like 100k long on this subject.

Something something I wish I had the links to studies on ptsd in neurodivergent children because of the way they're punished for neurodivergence even if it's not recognized as neurodivergence. brief soapbox moment to say that if you think it's okay to bully the weird kids because they need straightening out or w/e, i'm outside your house rn with a knife.

Your honor I love her and her breasts are sublime. Hurin thinks so too. Morwen is the favorite of anyone with a braincell.

Prepare yourselves for not one but two Morwen WIPs that will be dropping in the coming months, both requested by outofangband.

Hurin:

I love hurin as much as I love morwen and it is 100% your fault.

the two that are only half-filled in: hurin is not a himbo because he's very very smart, he just also is very nice and very muscular, and I thought he deserved recognition for that. Fish love hurin and so do women, no one is afraid of him except goblins maybe, who have lots of reasons to be afraid of him.

By the end of his arc he is soggy, both creepy and wet, however you want to call him. Someone get him a towel and a bowl of soup.

He needs therapy for his torture and also for his time in gondolin, which in most verses was likely a net positive experience but also Very Very weird and at a key developmental period in his life. He has some weird feelings about turgon, who he loves like an uncle, but also it's a little like being the poor friend who goes to the house of a rich friend and they show you their walk in closet like - hurin loses his brother so turgon can escape to his palace w/ running water, and he still doesn't give up gondolin's location. Hurin is 1000% a better person than me.

It's not hurin's blood. I mean, some of it is, but it's in his nature to make sure that most of it is other people's. The spitefulness of a wasp facing off with a bear etc etc.

Hurin is a short king and fabulously hirsute. thus gender envy.

Maedhros:

He's 100% feral. His hotness increases with how many years it's been since his last bath. As a Prince in tirion he was, like, aesthetically pleasing but also sexless like a ken doll. Post rescue, there is a devoted fan club, he receives a great deal of mail that ranges from tactless to offensive to scary. This persists literally after his death.

Both fish and women are afraid of maedhros, literally everyone is.

maedhros would not mind if it was his blood, but, like hurin, it's usually someone else's. Eating out of the garbage is sometimes a logical conclusion to his utilitarian state of mental illness.

He's trans *send tweet*

He is Not a himbo despite being a heartthrob because he is way too smart, and also while he is courteous (most of the time) I'm not sure he's always Nice. Your neck hair stands up when he's behind you.

#morwen #hurin #maedhros #games

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excellentexecution · 1 year ago

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Warmth from car vents was the best medicine that could've been asked for. Blasted straight into the direction of the face, the placement of legs and frozen toes, a remedy that alleviated the harshness of the weather just outside. From the shelter of a door shut closed, Bret was safe and far more protected than he had been. None could harm him there. Neither the cloudless night nor the brush from winds too cold, those from the Federation who prayed for his total and complete destruction. Another day was the Hitman to live and survive. Unharmed, an ally of sorts to be counted among the supporters, a newfound companion in Kyleigh. Greater had the numbers in Bret's favor grown. Because of one reason or another; there was one person to whom he could depend on, then. And such would not be so easily forgotten about. Not when knives in the back had become so sharp, the disloyalty of friends too common practice. Bret would hold sacred the respect that Kyleigh had shown - to be repaid when able, to be regarded proudly when remembered.

Adjusted within his seat until comfortable, back stretched and arched until the bones cracked and popped as needed, Bret allowed for his eyes to fall into a rest. Head leaned into the plush, brown curls dropped around his shoulders like a vail, messy and appearing unkept. Years had it been since the last time that proper sleep was had for the Hitman. When the soft voice of Helen would bring into his dreams visions of fairy tales and magical mysteries, the buzz of his ceiling fan just above. Childhood so far gone, a bed replaced by a car that wasn't his own, it was more like a fantasy than something real. Memories that, perhaps, were taken for granted before such an idea seemed possible. Before Bret was welcomed into the world that he both loved and hated; before the burdens of adulthood had been thrust onto his shoulders. So tender of age had he been. Barely old, stood no taller than the children that could be spotted at ringside, innocent in ways that weren't fit for the insanity of professional sports. All of what he knew was gone in a flash, the snap of Stu's strong but nimble fingers.

Down into the basement did Bret travel with his brothers. Learned from hands that had brutalized bigger - men and those that looked like deranged beasts - trained as was commanded by stern voice. Hours were spent in the Dungeon. Like workers who constructed roads and built towers, never to rest nor never to stop until was deemed time to. There was no limitation to what Stu desired for his sons. Their hearts and souls would bleed for the sport. Just as his own did and continued to do; akin to an insane man who couldn't quit an addiction. Deep was it injected into the veins. Woven into the fabrics of family and personal life, unable to untangle or separate. There was no space for art. Passions of the pencil put onto blank paper - sketch books and notepads detailed - the true dreams of Bret. Dreams that he wanted, dreams that his brothers wanted, it didn't make a difference to the dreams of their father. Legacy was the sought after prize, the gold around the waist. Family name and honor was worth more than mere scribbles upon blue lines with red margins. It was what Bret cared about most - as was seen on the television screens and felt in the darkness of the Dungeon - then and in current.

"Please, Kyleigh, call me Bret." Bret smiled, eyes opened and set upon her, no more lusting after sleep that wouldn't come. "I'd like to think of us as friends now. There's no reason to be so formal, though I do appreciate it. It's the most courteous way anyone's spoken to me in a long time. Y'know, not many of the WWF might appreciate it like I do, guys like Shawn or Helmsley, but it means a lot to me. You've made my day, and I do mean that very much. I hope that you've been enjoying your time here, too. It's hard to believe, but, y'know, this place used to be like heaven to work for. There wasn't so much garbage as there is now. The fans used to have class, least in the States. You knew who your friends were and who your enemy was. Kids used to be able to see the shows with their parents. Now there's all sorts of hell broken loose. It's gone. But I just hope that you're being taken care of for what you've done for us. Are they treating you good back there, Kyleigh? No boys are giving you a hard time, are they?"

Pink dabbled across his cheeks, Bret asked, a third question to fall from his lips, "if you don't mind me asking, who was your favorite wrestler when you were watching the shows? I won't get upset with your answer, I promise you. I've just... always been curious about that sort of thing. I suppose that the wrestling fan within me is still very much alive. You never really forget about your heroes."

For a few moments there Kyleigh thought she had done something to offend the man. It was easy for her to understand if she had, Americans weren't exactly known for their friendliness. Especially towards the proud Canadian wrestler. But she had tried her best to stay as professional as possible when it came to interacting with the real stars of the shows. She could thank her Uncle for her love of the business, well from the fan side of it anyway. As far back as she could remember it was a time they spent bonding with each other, sitting in front of the old television and watching all the shows. One time they were even able to go see a live event, making many of the boys in the neighborhood very jealous of her at the time. She even had a few of their action figures, now stowed away up in the attic for safe keeping. Aunt Joan hadn't liked it, she wanted Kyleigh to get into more 'girly' things but she also knew it was important for her to have a fatherly figure in her life so she never denied her request to stay up just a little bit later to finish a show. It helped her to grow up and appreciate not only the hard work these athletes put in, but the sacrifices they made in their personal lives. So whenever one of them was rude to her or didn't even acknowledge she existed she didn't take it to heart. Kyleigh knew how much they had going on, and she was smart enough to know being one of the backstage helpers meant she was the last one of the give a shit meter.

Then finally he spoke and she let out the breath she hadn't realized she had been holding. It really wasn't that big of a deal to offer her help to Mr. Hart or the spare change she had in her pocket. True to the cliche the half lycan wasn't in this job for the money or the free shows, she just loved being around the atmosphere of it all and how it gave her a good outlet for all that pent up energy her wolf always had. "Please take all the time you need! I'm from Boston so I'm kind of used to this weather." It was an easy excuse to give, half truth and half to hide the fact that what she was gave her an internal temperature that would easily kill a normal human. Most days she just had her trusty leather jacket on her shoulders with a t-shirt underneath. Tonight she had been running around like a man woman, so the coat was simply slung over her one arm.

For a few seconds she watched as he ran towards the phone booth, her heart still racing over the fact that a legend such as Bret Hart had actually spoken to her! A giggle escaped her before she took off for her own car, not wanting him to have to stand out in that weather a single second longer than he should have to. She instantly turned up the heat as soon as the engine roared to life, pulling up so all he would have to do was walk out of the booth and sit himself down in a warm car. A protest was on her lips when he offered the money back, really it was no big deal, but she swallowed her pride and took the money offered to her.

"Thank you. I'm not sure everyone else back there feels the same way but I'm just happy to be here you know? I grew up watching the shows and wondering how much fun it must be to help put them together. So when the offer came for me I couldn't turn it down. Yeah you'll probably see me running around like a crazy person, helping out whoever needs me. I was officially hired to fix the trucks or cars, and I still do that too, but when the weather is like this they like to keep us inside as much as possible. I'm Kyleigh, most people call me Ky and it's really nice to meet you as well Mr. Hart."

#[ lunarruled ]#Best There Was // Best There Is | WWF Era #[ Bret's like: I just met this girl but if anyone bothered her I'll be kicking their ass everyday of the week! ]

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hxt1b · 4 years ago

Text

Let’s Just Let it Go

Doyoung x Reader

Genre: Angst, some fluff (it’s there I swear) CollegeAU (HockeyPlayer!Doyoung)

Warning: MATURE CONTENT/DARK THEMES, drinking (drink responsibly please), SMUT, swearing, TW sexual assault.

WC: 11k

Song Rec: when the party’s over by Billie Eilish

Accompanying Stories: As Long As I’m Here, Isn’t It Lovely All Alone.

Masterlist

Hockey AU Masterlist

A/N: You do not have to read all the stories to read this one. You can read this as a standalone, however reading the other two will give a better understanding of the backgrounds of the characters so if you do read all I’d suggest reading the other two first. However, by all means this can be read independently you will still understand the plot and everything without reading the other two. Lastly, please excuse the grammar, I read it over but still some things may have slipped through.

“You keep condoms in your wallet?” You asked looking up at him. Doyoung’s head was swimming, but then again that much alcohol would do that to you.

“Would you rather I didn’t have one right now?” he asked his words slurring. You shook your head. Doyoung smirked returning his attention to opening the packet and putting the condom on. He pushed you into the wall again, grabbing you from the back of your thighs forcing you to wrap your legs around his waist as he pushed into you.

“Fuck,” He grunted as he began to move in you. To be honest, Doyoung didn’t remember your name, he had asked, but he couldn’t recall. You’d met a couple of hours ago in the packed club, Doyoung was seeing double of everyone by the time his eyes landed on you, keeping his steps stable was a feat as he made his way over to where you were dancing, drawing you in however wasn’t that hard. You were just as drunk as him.

Your arms looped around his neck as you filled his ears with breathy moans. Doyoung was so far gone, his mind was empty as you tightened around him. A few more thrusts and he came, letting his head fall into your shoulder as he did. You stilled against him; he didn’t really know if you finished. But he was too drunk to care. After getting his breathing to even out slightly he pulled out of you.

“Well,” He said as he carefully took off the condom, “Thank you I guess.” He looked around the bathroom locating the garbage can and tossed the used condom into it. With that, he left the bathroom not looking back at you. He was still stumbling seeing two of everyone one that passed by him.

He laughed to himself as he ran into a chair. But it was better this way, he didn’t remember anything this way. Kim Doyoung could successfully say that he had just wrapped up the most unmemorable summer of his life. Unmemorable because he was drunk throughout the entire thing, but it was okay because not once this summer did Doyoung think about the girl that cheated on him. Not once did he think about Yuta, the man that he looked up to. The one that slept with his girlfriend. Nope, they didn’t even cross his mind.

But they did.

Every damn day.

---

“Get up.” The voice pounded in Doyoung’s head and a hand reached out and shook him. He grumbled. Slowly opening his eyes, he glared up at Kun. He watched as his friend rolled his eyes at him.

“We have practice.” Doyoung pulled his blanket over his head, he shouldn’t have drank last night. “Come on.”

What a new kind of hell he’d entered. He’d told himself that once the hockey practice started, he’d be fine. He wouldn’t drink, Yuta had managed to graduate, he’d avoid his ex, the campus was big enough. He could still avoid his ex, she wasn’t even on campus yet. Only the athletes were here a month before everyone. But the not drinking once hockey started, that didn’t happen, so he told himself when the semester started, and today after practice the semester started, he would have to stop drinking and his ex would be back.

He groaned again throwing his covers off of himself and getting up. His head ached with each step he took towards the shared bathroom. They had moved, this house was bigger but they still needed to share a bathroom, well at least Ten, Jaehyun, Jungwoo and himself did. Kun upon stepping into the master room with the huge en-suite pulled his new captain status on them and took the damn room.

“You’re just waking up?” Jaehyun asked him, as he passed the younger boy in the hallway. Doyoung didn’t respond just walked past him keeping his head down.

Getting into the bathroom he looked at himself, taking in his appearance, he had a huge hickey on the side of his neck, how he got it was a slight blur to him. He remembered flashes of the night only. His hair was sticking out into a million directions he looked awful, he looked sick. Looking away from himself he grabbed his toothbrush and got ready for practice, he was gonna need a gallon of coffee.

Hockey was an escape, he could be as brutal as he wanted on the ice, he was itching for a proper game so that he wouldn’t have to hold himself back he couldn’t bang up his teammates. He needed a game.

Well, it was an escape until the new guy opened his mouth.

“Hungover again Kim, why am I not shocked?” Doyoung sneered at the man lacing up his skates as he walked into the change room. His hands clenching into fists at his side, but he didn’t reply, because he was hungover, and this guy was the only one that called him out on it. Because he was the only one that didn’t know. Yet, it didn’t make Doyoung hate him any less.

What kind of a nickname was Winwin anyway?

Rolling his eyes Doyoung dumped his stuff into his cubby taking his gear out and getting ready for practice.

“Ignore him,” Kun said from his left.

“I am,” Doyoung replied.

On the ice, Doyoung couldn’t deny the new kid was an ace, why he transferred to their school he couldn’t say. He used to play for the team that they lost to last year, one step away from the cup. But that school had a killer roaster, this kid being one of the beasts on it, but here he was. Skating towards Doyoung with the puck. Their coach was ending this practice with a scrimmage, the hockey season would be starting in a few days and the coach claimed that this would re-charge everyone’s competitive sides because this was their season.

He let him get close before he began his chase, letting Winwin come to him before blocking his path he hit him into the boards. It wasn’t a hard hit, but it was a hit. They both lost the puck as Winwin bounded off the plexiglass and slammed his hands into Doyoung’s chest.

“What the fuck man?!” He asked. Doyoung shrugged, their coach was yelling as he skated over. Kun already there grabbing Winwin as he glared at Doyoung.

“What on earth are you doing kid?” The coach barked at Doyoung.

“Sorry I just got into it.” He said not feeling sorry at all. Maybe he wasn’t doing the best job of ignoring him.

“Apologize to him.” He mentally scowled, he didn’t appreciate being treated like he was a toddler.

“Sorry.”

“Okay get off the ice, shower. Practice is over!”

“Dude you gotta relax.” Ten said skating next to Doyoung.

“Why the fuck do they even call him Winwin?” Doyoung’s irritation was evident “I fucking hate the guy.

“It’s because he fucking Wins, they use to call him their lucky charm ‘Winwin.’”

---

Loneliness was a part of life that you accepted long ago, it was something that just came with your life. Your parents were rich, and they shouldn't have had kids, because they couldn’t give two shits about the two children they had. So, loneliness wasn’t an issue for you not until the reality settled in that this wasn’t loneliness it was abandonment and that was a hard pill to swallow. Looking around your dorm you took in your roommate's side it was decorated in whites, it kind of hurt your eyes but you weren’t going to say anything. It was better than being stuck in an apartment with your brother. You felt bad when you left him alone in the huge penthouse seeing as you were the reason that the two of you were here. But you couldn’t take it there anymore everything reminded you of the fact that your parents didn’t care about you.

Your phone rang pulling you away from the anger that was bubbling up inside of you at the thought of your parents. Being replaced by a growing laugh as you looked at the caller ID. Your brother.

“Hello.” You answered.

“Want to move back yet?” He teased.

“No, I do not I actually like it here.” You replied getting off your bed and beginning to pace your room. He laughed, the sound making you smile.

“I was just teasing. I called to ask if you wanted to get lunch together today?” He asked. You frowned.

“Sicheng, you aren’t eating with your teammates yet?” Your tone not hiding your disappointment.

“No,” he replied curtly.

“Be nice to them, be friends with them.”

He ignored you, “So are you going to eat with me or not?”

“No, I’ll be eating with my roommate.” You answered as she came into the room, she smiled at you having heard what you said, and you smiled back. Despite her obsession with white, you actually really liked her. “Speaking of whom, I gotta go now.”

“Fine.”

---

By lunch, Doyoung was starving, having not had time to eat after he showered in the change room. His stomach was grumbling loudly when he took his seat next to Kun at their table in the cafeteria.

“You know I’m shocked by how good the cafeteria food is here.” Mark, a first-year rookie, said drawing the attention of the table.

“Yo same, people complain a lot about cafeteria food I was actually stressed.” Hendery another rookie agreed.

Doyoung nodded, “We lucked out.”

“Yo Winwin, come sit here!” Kun yelled from next to Doyoung making him turn his head in the direction Kun was yelling in. Winwin stopped in his tracks and looked over at the table. Doyoung glared at the side of Kun’s head, but Kun ignored him.

“Be nice,” Kun muttered to him as Winwin sat down across from him at the only empty seat on the table. Doyoung did his best not to scowl. Doyoung retreated into his own brain as the table continued to chat. He focused on the broccoli on his plate. He didn’t dare look around the cafeteria.

Fuck looking at the insufferable cocky bastard in front of him, he was afraid he would see his ex. Ever since practice ended in the morning he was on edge; he didn’t want to run into her in a hallway again he was afraid because he didn’t know how he’d react. He wanted to say he wouldn’t care that he’d just walk by her and maybe he would, but he felt like he wouldn’t the risk was too high.

“So, the party is at our place on Friday to kick off the year, that way we can celebrate the four rookies joining our team, along with Winwin coming to us this year and our boy Jungwoo finally hitting the ice in a game,” Jaehyun said, as Doyoung finally tuned back into the boy's conversation.

“So, you’ll come Winwin?” Ten asked. Doyoung looked up at him frowning, the younger boy played with the fries on his plate as he nodded.

“Yeah, I’ll come by.”

“Cool bring friends if you want to.” Ten said smiling at him.

---

Doyoung made it to Friday without a drink, and then he thought about how he promised himself he wouldn’t drink when the semester started. He then re-evaluated his choice and edited his promise, he wouldn’t drink without cause this semester, and a start of the year party was cause. Was it not? The boy in the mirror smiled back at him as he held his cup up to his reflection in a cheers before downing it.

It was most definitely cause.

Leaving his room his body already buzzing he skipped down the stairs, straight into a girl. You. Doyoung looked you up and down, taking in the tight jeans you had on. He liked the way they made your ass look. He also really liked the baby pink top you had on. It was clinging to you like a second skin showing off your assets. Doyoung smirked down at you, for some reason you looked familiar.

“I’m sorry about that.” He said and you scoffed.

“Whatever.”

Doyoung stared at your back as you walked away confused at the reaction he gleaned. He’d never been bad with chicks or at least he thought he wasn’t. He looked over at your friend who shrugged at him before following you.

His house was full of people he didn’t know, and some he did. But he was at ease, this was one place he knew that his ex wouldn’t show up. So, with a quiet laugh to himself, he followed you into the living room. You were standing beside Winwin. He leaned against the wall and watched you interact with his teammate; the interaction was friendly. From the way you reacted to him it was easy to see that the two of you were close.

“What are you looking at?” Xiaojun, another first-year rookie, asked coming up next to him.

Doyoung replied by nodding his head in the direction of the pair, and Xiaojun nodded.

“His sister is hot, isn’t she?” Doyoung froze as the words left the youngers mouth. Sister.

And then it came to him, the image of you pressed against a bathroom wall, with your dress pushed up as he moved inside you. Doyoung mentally facepalmed as he remembered how he left you. Turning away Xiaojun, Doyoung moved out of the living room and into the kitchen. He went straight to the cabinet where Jaehyun kept his good liquor. Pulling out a large bottle of tequila Doyoung looked around for a shot glass. He turned around and straight into Jaehyun himself. Jaehyun looked at him with a ‘what are you doing’ expression on his face.

“I will buy you more.” Doyoung simply said finally locating the object he was looking for. Bringing the small glass over to his spot he poured some for himself. Jaehyun watched him as he tipped his head back downing the alcohol not even flinching at the burn.

“Whoa,” Jaehyun said as Doyoung went to pour himself another one. “Aren’t you trying to like drink less or something?”

“I slept with Winwin’s sister.” He quickly replied taking the next shot.

“Just now?” Jaehyun asked taking the shot glass from Doyoung after poured himself another shot.

“No. Last week.”

“Dude what the fuck.”

“Dude what the fuck indeed.” Your voice cut into their conversation making them both snap their head towards you. Leaning forward you took the full shot glass from Jaehyun’s hand and drank it.

“I didn’t even get to finish.” You said after the burn in your throat subsided. Doyoung flushed as the memory of how he left you in the bathroom flooded his mind. Jaehyun looked at him a shocked expression on his face before he broke into a smile. Doyoung could tell he was trying not to laugh at him.

He scowled in your direction taking the shot glass from you before pouring himself another shot. Jaehyun took it before he could drink it.

“Slow down,” Jaehyun said the previous laughter gone. Doyoung rolled his eyes and moved to walk away from you and Jaehyun.

“You know,” You said moving into his space. The two shots he’d just taken hadn’t quite hit him full force yet. “up until you ran away from me, I was actually having a good time.” Your chest brushed his as you leaned further into him. Doyoung narrowed his eyes but didn’t back away from you.

“Too bad you don’t actually know how to make a girl cum.” You pulled away from him taking the shot glass again. Doyoung glared at the side of your head as you poured yourself another shot. He looked past you meeting Jaehyun eyes again, the boy flat out laughing this time.

“I do, in fact, know how to make a girl cum.” He said. You scoffed.

“I wouldn��t know.” You replied and threw your head back taking the shot. You shot him a wink before walking away from him. Jaehyun only laughed harder when Doyoung looked at him again. Sneering at the younger boy he reached for the shot glass again.

“No,” Jaehyun said grabbing it before he did. “Pace yourself, Kun will slaughter you. You promised.” He regretted speaking to the new captain sometimes, he regretted telling Kun so much, but he did need help keeping himself in check. Doyoung rolled his eyes at Jaehyun before walking away.

For the rest of the party, he couldn’t get his mind off of you. You stuck to your brother and your friend for the majority of the party and Doyoung didn’t like to interact with him more than he already needed to. Taking his eyes off you as you laughed at something your friend said Doyoung looked around the living room, Kun and Jaehyun weren’t anywhere in sight. He could only spot the rookies as they played beer pong in the corner of the room. Getting up from his spot on the couch he made his way into the kitchen again not seeing any of his roommates. Taking his chance, he made his way to the cabinet pulling it open and grabbing Jaehyun’s Tequila again. Your words pounding in his head as he took a shot straight from the bottle.

“Getting shit-faced as usual,” Winwin said coming into the kitchen. Doyoung didn’t look at him as he took another swing.

“How about you mind your own business,” Doyoung said and brushed past him back into the living room taking the bottle with him. His eyes narrowed in on you as you swayed to the music. Doyoung wasn’t in the mood of arguing with Winwin but if he had been he would have claimed that this was nothing compared to how his drinking usually went. He hadn’t had more than a couple of sips of Kun’s drink after the shots he took in the kitchen until now. Walking up to you he caught your attention, your eyes landing on the bottle he held in his hand.

He let you take it from him as he leaned into the wall. He watched you take a drink some of the alcohol flowing out the corner of your mouth.

“Where did your friend go?” He asked as you wiped at your mouth.

“Home. She’s not really into parties.” You replied. Doyoung watched as you licked your lips passing him the bottle back. But he didn’t want the alcohol. His mind running as he took you in, his mind flashing to the night last week.

“That’s a shame.” He replied. Your eyes darkened as he reached out and pulled you to him. “So, you're just here all by yourself now. Hanging out with your brother.” His hand moving to the side of your neck as he looked down at you. You let him, biting your lip as you looked up at him.

“There’s nothing wrong with hanging out with my brother.” You replied.

“No there isn’t except that you aren’t hanging out with him right now, are you?” You frowned up at him and then looked around the room. Doyoung followed your gaze, Winwin was still in the kitchen. Doyoung smiled to himself as you turned your eyes back to him.

“It’s a good thing I came when I did.” You snickered at his words.

“Is it though?” He rolled his eyes at you. That was it, he could not go down in history with this shit on his name.

---

You crashed into his door, your back stinging from the impact but you ignored it as his lips returned to yours. His lips were rough, moving against yours at a bruising rate, you loved it. His hands were roaming your body pulling at your clothes.

“Bed.” You breathed against his mouth. He chuckled at you as he grabbed your hands holding them above your head as he continued to kiss you.

“You don’t get to call any shots babe.” He said, his mouth moving from your lips to your jaw, leaving a start mark on your skin. You moaned tilting your head to give him more space, he took the chance to leave soft kisses down your neck towards your chest. His hands letting yours go as he lowered himself down your body.

He looked up at you as he got on his knees, his fingers grabbing at the buttons of your jeans before undoing them. You watched as he undressed you, leaving you naked from the bottom half as you stepped out of your jeans. Doyoung licked his lips as he grabbed your leg draping it over his shoulder.

He pressed a wet kiss to the inside of your thigh, your breath hitched as you watched him. Your hand moving to his hair. He moaned softly when you tugged on the strands pulling him towards your wet heat. He pressed a kiss to your clit, using his fingers to separate your folds, relieving some of the tension that was boiling up in your body. You moaned when he darted his tongue out, a short lick. Before retreating again and looking up at you. Your eyes glassed over as you pulled at his hair again.

He obliged again, licking up your slit slowly, dragging his tongue through your wet folds. He groaned into you, the vibrations causing you to shiver. Your head fell back against the door and he took your clit into his mouth, sucking slowly. His tongue ghosting over it. You moved your hips against his mouth wanting him to add his fingers. But your words were lost on you, only nonsense flowing past your lips as he picked up his pace. Your moans grew louder as you drew closer, your eyes closed shut as you chased your climax.

His name rolled off your tongue as your back arched off the door. The muscles in your body tightened, as you clambered for a better grip on him. You felt his teeth gently nip at your hard nub and you crashed over the edge, your orgasm taking over your body as you pulled at his hair. He continued his ministrations, working you through your orgasm. Your body was in overdrive as you came down, a lot more sensitive than you previously were. You pulled at his hair again pulling away from you, he scowled up at you as you finally looked down at him. His lips were red and wet. He grabbed your hands as he got up. Pulling you to the bed.

He let you lay down, as he rounded the bed going to his nightstand. He pulled out silver handcuffs. Your breathing shallowed as you took in the steel in his hands.

“No more touching me.” He said as he placed a knee onto the bed leaning over you. He grabbed your hands bringing them up to his headboard. He closed one handcuff around your wrist the cold metal making you hiss as it came in contact with your skin. He looped the handcuffs around one of the metal rungs on his bed before bringing the other one to your other hand locking you in.

He took a second to look down at you, before leaning down and kissing your swollen lips. You moaned into him, his tongue brushing against yours, you could taste yourself on him and it was driving you crazy. Your thighs already moving against each other as your body reacted to him, more moisture pooling in between your legs.

“I probably should have taken this off first,” Doyoung said pulling away from your lips. His hands moving under your shirt pushing it up off you leaving it around your hands, he did the same with your bra.

“But then again, you’re not the most attentive to details, are you?” You teased, he narrowed his eyes at you pinching your nipple, earning a soft cry from you.

“I wouldn’t be saying shit like that right now.” He threatened, lowering his mouth to your breast. You gasped as he took your pointed nub into his hot mouth, swirling his tongue around your nipple before letting it go. He glanced up at you before trailing wet kisses over to your other breast and doing the same thing there. You squirmed underneath him, clenching your thighs tightly as you got worked up again. He pulled back from your chest looking down at your closed legs, a chuckle leaving him as he looked back up at you. His eyes dark, his pupils blown.

Adjusting so that he was between your legs he hovered over you, leaving marks on your collarbone. You hissed moving against him, you could feel his erection through his jeans. You rolled your hips into him savouring the small amount of friction you were getting until he grabbed your hips and pushed them down into his bed. You groaned against his mouth as he pressed his mouth onto yours, his tongue pushing against yours.

Finally, his fingers connected with your core, he slid a finger into you using his thumb to rub your already abused and sensitive clit. A loud moan left you again as your wrists pulled against the handcuffs, the metal biting into your skin.

“Faster please.” You whined trying to move against his hand but not being able to, his hand holding your hip only tightened. You’d most definitely have a bruise there tomorrow. He picked up the pace. He kissed you harder as he added another finger, his tongue mirroring the actions of his hand as he propelled you towards another orgasm, your body seized up again, muscles tightening as you arched up into him. Your orgasm came faster this time, having already been worked up from the previous one. You panted against him as he pulled his fingers out of you, you watched biting your lower lip as he took his fingers into his mouth, sucking them clean.

“I’d say you’d agree, I’m actually great at making women cum.”

---

You walked into the cafeteria the next day for lunch, the hockey team as per usual was in their typical spot. Your brother sitting in the middle talking. You smiled as you neared the table coming up behind Doyoung. Kun smiled at you as you looped your arms around Doyoung’s neck. He stiffened for a second before turning his head to look at you, only relaxing when he realized it was you.

“Your dear brother is right there.” He said to you quietly.

“My brother doesn’t dictate who I fuck.” You replied pressing a kiss to his lips. Doyoung narrowed his eyes at you as you took the empty seat next to him. For some reason, you were really bold around this man, something you hadn’t been in a long time. You looked across the table feeling your brothers’ eyes on you. You smiled at him before turning back to Doyoung, but Doyoung was looking past you. Trying to get his attention but failing you followed his gaze, seeing a girl who was also staring back. You recognized the girl as your neighbour.

“Do you know her?” You asked finally getting Doyoung’s attention. He didn’t reply just pulled your chair closer before snaking his hand around the back of your head and pulling your lips to his. You kissed him back with the same desperation he displayed only pulling away when you needed to breathe. Kun whistled as you wiped at your lips, when you looked at Doyoung he was looking past you again. You threw a quick glance over your shoulder to see the girl gone.

“Doyoung?”

“My ex.” He answered you as he turned to his food.

---

Sitting in your room as Sena, your roommate and you waited for your next class you replayed the way Doyoung had reacted in the cafeteria.

“Sena,” you started looking over at her, “you said you stayed in this dorm last year too?” Sena nodded turning her attention to you. “Did you have the same neighbour?”

“Yeah, why?” She asked, now putting her pen down and turning her full attention to you.

“Her and Doyoung used to date, right?” Sena sighed her eyes moving around the room as she realized what you were asking.

“Yeah, they did. She cheated on him though. I would hear them sometimes, mostly Doyoung, but it was painful to hear. One night. He begged her to let him in for hours and she just left him out in the hall. It was all over campus too, she slept with his teammate. Yuta.”

You bit your lip as Sena turned back to her book, you didn’t know how to react. Being cheated on was a horrible thing but to have it happen with someone as close as your teammate.

“Fuck a teammate that doesn’t know the first thing about being a decent human.”

Your brothers’ words floated into your head. You were confused about how people could just so easily trample over others. You thought about Doyoung’s face at lunch, how quickly he shut off after seeing his ex. Your mind floating to the dark places you tried very hard to hide from as you remembered the last party you’d gone to at your old university.

“Crap Y/N we have ten minutes until class let’s get going,” Sena said as she scrambled to get her stuff together.

---

You saw Doyoung again after class, he was walking across the parking lot to his car. He hadn’t seen you yet but you smiled as you decided to make your way over to him, it was weird that you enjoyed his company only because besides fooling around nothing else had really happened. You made it to his car before he did. So, you took the extra free time to stare at him, you took in the way he scrunched his eyes against the autumn sun, the way the breeze blew through his hair.

“Doyoung!” You blinked your eyes away from him and moved your eyes in the direction of the call. You saw your neighbour again, you quickly looked back at Doyoung as he froze, stopping in his steps. You watched as his hands tightened into fists at his side and his chest rose and fell with deep breaths. He ignored her and continued in your directions towards the car.

“Hey,” You said softly catching his attention. His head snapped to yours as he unlocked his car. He didn’t smile at you just nodded. “You going home?” he nodded again taking his bottom lip between his teeth in a manner that showed he wasn’t happy.

“Get in.” He said as he yanked open his door. You obliged, pulling open the passenger door. You threw a glance over your shoulder. She was still standing there; you couldn’t help but sneer as you ducked into his car.

He was silent as he pulled out the parking lot, his hands holding the steering wheel tightly causing his knuckles to turn white. You leaned forward and looked at the side of his face, you stared, because he wasn’t even turning on the radio.

“Uh, you're being weird.” He said as you tilted your head more and moved closer to his side.

“Am I?” You asked, he furrowed his eyebrows and pushed you back taking one hand off the wheel.

“Tell me about it.” You said settling back into your seat, “Just say what’s bothering you it’ll help and I swear I won’t judge you.”

He stayed silent and you sighed.

“It can’t be worse than not knowing how to make a girl cum.” You joked. He scoffed as he glanced over at you again his face fighting a smile.

“You know that’s not true.” He replied.

“So, tell me.” You insisted again, “I mean I do know that she cheated on you.” You added bluntly. His barely-there smile disappearing again pushing him back into his silence.

“She doesn’t deserve this much from you, you know that?” you said as he pulled into his driveway. “This much energy, and time.” He parked the car, but he didn’t move, both of you stayed in your seats not even unbuckling your seat belts.

“She didn’t apologize, not once.” He was looking down at his hands. “Everyone tells me that she doesn’t deserve my time. She once told me that I didn’t deserve this, but you get what you deserve right? People always say that, what the fuck did I ever do to deserve this?” You shook your head as he spoke. Unbuckling your seat belt, you reached for him. Letting your hands guide his head so that he was looking at you, his eyes were watery and red filled with angry unshed tears.

“The world does not give you what you deserve Doyoung, the world is unfair, and people are cruel. You did not deserve to be cheated on.” He stared at you, his hands shaking. He blinked his eyes forcing the moisture away before he moved, grabbing your chin and pulling your lips to his. You let him, getting caught up in the way his lips moved against yours, he stole your air. Greedily moving his hands to your hair and you let yours slip to his shirt, holding him close to you.

He pulled away; his breathing uneven as he looked at you again.

“Why are you here?” He asked, and you smiled at him.

“Because babe, contrary to my jokes you can make a girl cum.”

---

Doyoung enjoyed your company, he liked your weird bluntness, your lack of fear of the world but most of all he liked the sex. He liked that you looked at him like you wanted to eat him. He like that he didn’t feel lonely around you. He just liked you.

“So we're basically friends with benefits then huh?” You asked pulling him out of his thoughts. He looked over at you, taking in the fact that you were still naked on his bed even though you two had fucked over an hour ago.

“I mean because like if we are I just wanna know if we're the kind that don’t fuck other people or if we’re the kind that do.” He was perplexed by your rambling not expecting you to say this, and he wasn’t sure how to respond not that he got the chance because you continued.

“I mean I’m not the type to sleep with more than one person like that, not that there’s anything wrong with people who do, I just would like to know if you’re, like you know, sleeping with people other than me that’s all.”

He smiled at you as your cheeks turned a dark shade of red as you let words pour out of your mouth.

“I’m not sleeping with anyone else.” He said cutting you off. You bit your lip, trying to hide the painfully obvious smile that was stretching across your face. Doyoung’s own smile only grew as he got up from his desk chair and moved to his bed climbing on top of you. He pressed his lips against yours lightly.

“Want to go out somewhere today?” he asked looking down at you.

“Like where?”

---

“An indoor theme park?” You asked your eyes widening as you took in the rides and attractions. “You know in the month that I’ve known you Kim Doyoung, I did not take you for the theme park type.” He smiled at you as you continued to look around your hand reaching for his the more excited you got.

“Come we have to start with this.” You said and began to pull him in the direction of the roller coaster. “No, wait,” You paused and pulled him in the other direction, “That’s gotta be last.” Doyoung laughed behind you letting you pull him.

“Doyoung!” You exclaimed in amusement stopping in your tracks as you got excited again. “Look how big that bear is.” Your eyes moved to Doyoung’s face a huge smile taking over your facial expression. He looked down at you, his eyebrow cocked up as he looked down at you.

“What?” You asked, getting slightly self-conscious as he looked at you.

“I haven’t said a single word, yet you know that?” He teased leaning towards you. You rolled your eyes and pushed at his chest.

“Get me the bear, Kim.”

He didn’t get you the bear, turned out Doyoung sucked at these kinds of games because he tried five times and each time won nothing. You had to drag him away from the stall because if you didn’t, he would have stayed there the entire time. Hours passed as you went on ride after ride and played a couple more games where you did win a small bear, you’d passed it to Doyoung with a teasing remark that had him glaring at you.

Exhausted you settled into the bench as you waited for Doyoung to come back with something to eat. You smiled at him when he looked over at you as he stood in the line for mini donuts, he winked back at you. A warm feeling settled into your stomach, you didn’t have time to think about it though as your phone began to ring.

“Hello, brother.” You said happily.

“Mom and dad called,” he said getting straight to the point, “They instructed that we have to go back for a dinner.” Your heart rate picked up as you processed what your brother had just said to you. You were beginning to feel warm as anger bubbled up inside you.

“After they kicked us out?” You asked. Your anger coming out in your tone. Winwin didn’t respond. “Fuck them I’m not going.”

“We have to Y/N, you know we have to.” He said and you hung up on him. Fuck them all. Who did they think they were? Winwin called again and you ignored the call turning your phone off. You didn’t want to deal with this right now. First, they kick you and your brother out over a business deal and now, now they were threatening money. You knew that you and your brother didn’t have incomes you knew that at the end of the day you still needed them. But you hated it.

You tucked your phone away, looking up at Doyoung as he walked over to you and sat down, you took a mini donut shoving it into your mouth, your mouth burning with how hot it was. You swore as you opened your mouth and took in air to cool it down. Doyoung laughed at you, and just like that the anger from earlier dissipated and the warm feeling you had from before came back. You watched Doyoung as you chewed and he laughed at you, you couldn’t get enough of his laugh. He laughed around you a lot, and to be honest, you lived for it.

“You’re so dumb.” He said still calming down from his laughing fit. His hand reached out rubbing at the corner of your mouth, wiping away sugar, and you swore your stomach felt like you were on the rollercoaster all over again.

---

His hands were everywhere, grabbing at everything. Loud breaths filled your ears as he panted around you, your heart was beating a mile a minute in the worst kind of way. You opened your mouth to scream but you couldn’t as he pushed his tongue down your mouth. You couldn’t push him away he was everywhere.

You woke up with a startle, your body drenched in a cold sweat. You shivered as your mind went into overdrive, your pulse drumming loudly as you turned over in your bed. You took in large breaths to try and calm yourself, to distract yourself from the memory. But every time you closed your eyes that night would come back.

“No.” You said as Dae swarmed you, backing you into a corner. He was drunk insanely drunk, you pushed at his chest as his hands began to wander up to your thigh.

He shushed you, his mouth coming down to yours. You shoved at him again turning your head to the side.

“Why are you being this difficult?” he asked, his hand shooting out and grabbing your wrists. Your mind went blank as his mouth pushed back against yours his tongue pushing into your mouth. His knee came up between your legs. You screamed, and before you knew it, he was ripped off you. Your brother over him, fists were flying everywhere but you couldn’t hear anything over your own hysteria. Your hands were shaking as you pushed out the room and out the house, gasping for air as you tried to calm your breathing.

More hands were around you, pulling you towards them but you pushed them away.

“Hey, hey.” It was Winwin, “I’m here. Let’s go home.” He said. You looked at him, your vision blurry. His lip was cut and from the way, his cheekbone was swelling you knew it would bruise tomorrow.

You cried harder.

You opened your eyes again, reaching for your phone. You thought that was gonna be the worst day of your life, but the next day was worse.

Hitting the call button, you held the phone up to your ear.

“Hello?” His voice was groggy, you realized that you’d woken him.

“Doyoung.” You said quietly, “Can you come get me?”

---

You weren’t shocked when he came, but that shocked you. The fact that you weren’t shocked. You could tell he was tired when he pulled up to your building.

“Sorry,” You said as you got into the car. He shook his head slightly shivering as he looked over at you.

“Are you okay?” You looked at your hands. You knew you could tell him, you knew you trusted him. You also knew that if you said you didn’t want to talk about it he’d just take you to his house and you’d sleep, but you needed to talk about it. You wanted to tell him.

“My parents called my brother today.” You started, “They want us to go see them for dinner.” You looked over at Doyoung taking in his reaction, he looked confused, but he didn’t say anything he just listened and waited for you to continue.

“My parents are complicated,” You continued, “they, well they kicked Winwin and I out at the end of the last school year…”

Your father was furious the next morning, you’d never seen him this mad. Your hands were trembling in your lap as you listened to him yell at your brother. Your anger rising.

“My deal fell through because you can’t keep your anger in check!” Your brother stayed silent as well, “Do you understand how much money we just lost, we’re all over the news our family name is ruined. They’re calling you a thug, what the fuck is wrong with you?”

“He was coming on to me.” You finally said having enough, “H-he was trying to do things when I was saying no!” You yelled getting up. Your father turned his glare towards you. His eyes didn’t soften the way you expected them to.

“He’s your boyfriend, isn’t he?” He asked his voice cold. Shock ran through your body at your fathers’ words. A business deal really meant more to him? You looked up at your mother who looked away from you. You blinked back tears as the rage in you rose again, you looked over at your brother who looked equally as shocked. His anger on his face.

“You two need to get out of my house. I have to show the world that I don’t support your stupid behaviour and there will be consequences. You both are going to a different school and I will send you a fixed fund and pay for your tuition, but you will not stay at my house. I do not want to see your faces.”

Doyoung listened intently as you told him everything, your hands fisting into your sweats as your anger rose inside you as you spoke. You couldn’t look at him though, you looked out the window.

“And now you have to go see him because if you don’t, he threatens to not pay for anything?” Doyoung asked. You nodded still not looking at him. His hand reached out and grabbed your arm, but you flinched. His hand instantly shot away from you.

“Baby, look at me.” He said keeping his hands to himself. You slowly turned your head to him; his face was angry. “That motherfucker that did that to you can rot in hell and your dad’s a greedy bastard. I’d say fuck it and don’t go but I understand why you have to.” He hesitantly reached for you again, this time you leaned into his reach taking his hand and pulling him towards you. “I – I can go with you if that would make you feel better.” He said.

You’d done a lot of things to help you get over the incident, one of those things was trying to find a guy at the bar and fuck him, to prove to yourself that you had control over your own body that what happened with Dae, and your dad did not need to take over your whole life. That you did what you wanted, and you had control over what you wanted, you didn’t regret it either because somehow it got you to him. You pressed your lips to his kissing him slowly. You didn’t understand what you felt for him, but you knew that there was something because when you were around him you felt warm and safe, and free.

---

You didn’t take Doyoung with you, but he told you that he’d have his phone on the entire time and that you could call him whenever. Getting out of your brothers’ car you both looked up at the huge house that you both use to call home.

“I fucking hate him.” You mumbled to yourself and you both made your way up the few steps to the front door. Winwin pressed the doorbell and you both waited only a few seconds before your mother pulled the door open for you two.

“Hello,” She said a tight smile on her face. “Please behave today, your father has put a lot of effort into making sure this day would come to be.” You were confused, you looked over at Winwin who mirrored your reaction. Effort into getting the two of you here?

Your confusion vanished when you followed your mother into the sitting from and saw him. He sat there with a smirk, his body relaxed as he leaned back in a high back chair. His father sitting on a couch beside his mother. You looked around the room for your father, he was already looking at you with a fake smile on his face.

“Welcome home kids.”

---

You followed your father into his office, Winwin at your heels, he’d ushered the two of you to follow him as a deafening silence filled the sitting room for ten minutes as you all stared at each other. Your hands were sweating so much that you had to wipe them on your dress every few minutes. You were glad the dress was black.

Your mother had finally ended the silence by announcing that the dinner was ready. Your father had ushered you after him the moment everyone had gotten up.

As Winwin closed the door of the office you glared at your father.

“What is th-”

He cut you off, “You will apologize to them after dinner, both of you. They agreed that the deal could be back on if you apologize.” You both balked at him. He didn’t allow either of you to speak before ushering you out of the room again. Both of you were too shocked to move still processing what your father had just said to you. When neither of you moved, he did, swinging open the door and walking out. You stared at your brother as he glared at the spot his father was standing in.

“Fuck that.” He said and stormed after your father, you scrambled after him.

“I don’t know what you thought was going to happen at this dinner, but the last thing we’re going to do is apologize to that fucking rat,” Winwin said stopping at the head of the long table as your father turned around and glared at him. The room was silent everyone staring at Winwin with wide eyes, even you were shocked.

“And your inheritance? Your funds? Don’t forget your place kid. You will apologize.” Your father replied calmly. Your brother was fuming, taking a step forward until he was standing right in front of your father.

“Fuck you and fuck your money.”

Your father snorted.

“How do you think your gonna afford your life boy?”

“We’ll figure it out, we don’t need you.” You finally said taking your brother's hand and pulling him with you. You both left the large dining room, taking hurried steps towards the front door, both itching to be out the house. You pushed the front door open and walked out.

“Go to the car,” Winwin said unlocking his car for you, “I have to grab something.” You nodded not questioning him and made your way to the car.

You opened the door and got in, but someone caught the door as you pulled it. Dae leaned down into your space grabbing your face in his hand. His mouth a fraction away from yours, your nose was assaulted with the strong cologne he overused.

“You think that you won?” he asked, “You didn’t, now you’re a broke bitch with nothing to your name. You’re a nobody.” You shoved him off of you kicking his shin as you did. He swore and let go of you backing up. He chuckled. “I heard about your new toy. I heard you suck his dick like a real whore would. So, it’s just me huh? It’s only a little bit before he gets bored of you. You aren’t enough and you never will be.”

He slammed the door shut as Winwin bound out the house. You watched your brother as anger took over his features again as saw Dae

“See you on the ice motherfucker,” Dae said slamming into Winwin's shoulder as he passed him.

“What did he say to you?” Winwin asked as he got into the car. You shook your head and looked away from him.

“Let’s just go.”

---

Three days and Doyoung hadn’t heard from you he’d called and texted only to be ignored. His head was spinning, he was feeling crazy. You weren’t his girlfriend, but he was losing it. His head ached as he stared at your contact. He felt lonely again his mind drifting to every place it shouldn’t go, every insecurity he’d developed lapping at him as he sat at the kitchen table. What happened? Did he do something wrong? Was it a mistake to tell you that he’d go with you? You hadn’t taken him after all, you hadn’t called him after and when he had called you, you’d ignored him. That awful feeling of abandonment hit him hard, his heart hurt and he couldn’t explain why.

He got up stalking over to the cabinet and pulling out Jaehyun’s alcohol again. He didn’t need a shot glass he just opened the bottle and took a swing, the liquor burned as it made its way down his throat. He didn’t give himself time to think before he drank more.

He wasn’t going to go see you, one because he couldn’t do that to himself this time not again, he couldn’t beg like he had with his ex. He also realized that he didn’t have a single clue where your dorm was. That realization also hurt because he’d let you into his life every inch of it, and the moment he found out something dark about you, you shut him out. He closed his eyes as he took another swing, no rational thought entering his mind as he did so.

“Why do they ruin all my good places?” He muttered to himself as he grabbed his keys from the key holder, stumbling towards the door.

“Hey what the fuck, Doyoung are you drunk?” Ten’s voice caught his attention as he opened the front door, cold hair hitting him as he did.

“I mean I don’t know.” He replied, his words kind of slurring. Ten furrowed his eyes brows at him rushing to him as he did.

“Were you going to drive?” He asked.

“I mean maybe. I don’t know.” He replied.

Ten narrowed his eyes at him and took his keys. Doyoung rolled his eyes and glared down at the boy.

“Well fine then you gotta drive me, okay?” he said and grabbed Ten's arm pulling him out the house towards his car.

“Why are you drunk on a Wednesday Doyoung, I thought you stopped this.” Ten said, Doyoung could sense the judgement in his friends’ words. But he’d expected it. His vision blurred as he leaned back into his seat, his head spinning from the alcohol. He closed his eyes and laughed.

“Ten my man, it’s because I’m a fucking loser and everyone leaves me.” His head fell to the side as Ten started the car.

“Take me to the indoor theme park.” He said and then laughed, “because I’m a sucker for a bad time.”

A couple of minutes later Ten was parked in the parking lot, but the theme park was closed. Doyoung just nodded his head as Ten told him leaning his head into the window.

“Did you really like her?” Ten asked, his voice soft. Doyoung shrugged.

“Not that it matters now.” But he did, the answer was yes. He liked you around him, he liked your laugh, your smile, the ease you gave him. He liked that you spoke too much practically all the time and never really thought about what you were about to say. He liked how you made him feel, he liked that you didn’t make him want to drink. He liked you.

Ten frowned, staring at Doyoung.

“I’m not back to drinking like before,” Doyoung said quietly, he wasn’t able to look at Ten. “I just – I’m not back to drinking okay?”

“Okay.”

“Give me a couple of minutes and then we can go.” Ten nodded at Doyoung’s words and turned up the music.

---

Doyoung was pissed, it had been a week and honestly, he didn’t give a fuck anymore, or at least he liked to tell himself that. He kept his word and didn’t drink, but that just meant that he was always angry, especially angry whenever he looked at Winwin.

“We’re playing against your old school huh?” Doyoung heard Jaehyun ask Winwin. The other boy only nodded as he got into his gear. Doyoung ground his teeth and continued to get dressed. He wanted to be out on the ice bad, his blood was pumping, he needed to let the anger out one way or another.

Halfway through the game, Doyoung was drenched in sweat, but his anger was coming down as he let himself be taken away by the sport. Adrenaline pumped through him as the whistle blew starting the third period. The other team got possession and Doyoung focused on defence. He kept his mind blank as he played only thinking about the game, Jungwoo checked the player with the puck, the puck going astray. Doyoung took his opening and claimed the puck, skating as he looked around for an open teammate to pass to. Seeing Winwin open he sent the puck down the ice in the same second he was slammed into the plexiglass. His ribs ached from the hit he slipped onto the ice and looked up at the guy who’d hit him, for some reason he was hovering over him still.

“How are my sloppy seconds?” He asked, “The prude give you blue balls yet?” Doyoung’s head spun as he slowly got up, he was used to hits so his usual recovery time wasn’t this slow but, then again, he never was hit this hard. “But then again I heard that she sucks your dick like a prostitute.” But he wasn’t slow to understand what this fuck was saying. Taking his gloves off as he got up, Doyoung swung at the other man. His hands shoving him hard in the chest, before skating after him and grabbing his jersey. Doyoung didn’t think he just began to punch him, he was shoved back his helmet coming off as the other boy took his own helmet off.

“Fuck you.” Doyoung spat, as the boy charged him, he got one good hit in. Straight to Doyoung’s jaw, before the refs were on them. Winwin was in front of him in seconds grabbing him from the ref.

“Relax.” The younger boy said as the ref ejected both Doyoung and the other guy.

“Let me go.” He said and shook Winwin off of him as he skated off the ice and went straight to the change room.

---

He was under the spray of the shower when you walked into the locker room. The steam was filling the locker room, making the air hot as you quietly walked in his direction. He saw you before you spoke his eyes darkening as you leaned against the wall.

“Doyoung.” You said his name softly, earning a glare from him. You deserved it; you’d let Dae’s words get to you. But now looking at him, taking the way he winced under the hot water the darkening bruise on his ribcage, the cut on his lip. You frowned.

Dae was wrong. You looked at Doyoung, you knew whatever happened on the ice was because of you, and he’d done that even when you’d ignored him.

“I’m sorry,” you said and took a step towards him.

“For what? Ignoring me? Or fucking with my head?” You didn’t reply just walked towards him, slowly getting under the water and letting your hands trace over his ribcage, your fingers skimming over the growing bruise.

“For everything.” You said, letting your hand move up to his wet hair. The water soaked into your clothes as you pulled him into you, he let you. His arms looping around your waist. You looked up at him watching his face soften as he took you in.

“Why’d you ignore me?” he asked. His breath fanning across your face.

“Someone told me I wasn’t enough for you and I believed them.” Doyoung’s hands tightened, you closed your eyes and pressed your forehead against his. “I let my head get carried away with every insecurity I’ve ever had.”

“I’m glad you came to your senses.” He said, his hand moving your shirt up so that his fingers could trace your skin. He pressed his lips to yours kissing you slowly as he moved your wet shirt up your torso.

“Don’t ignore me next time.” He said moving his lips to your jaw, “Come talk to me instead.” You nodded and pulled out of his hold. Pushing him to the wall you ripped your shirt off over your head and quickly took off your pants.

“Promise.” You said, “but we don’t have that long until the game ends.” looking up at him through hooded eyes, you pressed yourself against him again, you kissed his jaw, before moving down to his collar bone, taking the skin onto your mouth you gently bit it before running your tongue over it as he hissed. You kissed down his chest to the side of his ribcage pressing hot kisses down his wet skin. Until you got to his erection, he was hard and ready for you. You squatted down taking him in your hand as you looked up at him, he looked at you through half-lidded eyes as you slowly moved your hand up and down his length before pressing a soft kiss to the head. He groaned before letting his head fall back as he tangled his hand into your wet hair.

“Babe,” He moaned as you took this tip into your mouth swirling your tongue around before moving him further into your mouth. Your hand working the rest of his cock as you continued to slowly move down on him.

You stopped when Doyoung removed his hand from your hair and grabbed your wrist, you looked up at him again. His chest was heaving, and he looked at you like he was ready to devour you.

“I love it when you give me head, but we really don’t have time for that.” He said moving himself out of your mouth. He pulled you up to him, his mouth joining yours again and his fingers trailed to your core.

“So wet.” He said dragging a finger through your fold. Pulling his hand away from you he turned you around before turning around himself, your front against the cold wall, you moaned at the contrast.

“Don’t take too long.” He said and lined himself up at your entrance. You moaned when he sank in his hands grabbing roughly at your ass before he started to thrust into you. You arched your back as you clenched around him, his cock twitching in you.

“You’re so tight.” He moaned, his hand grabbing at your shoulder as his thrusts became harsher. You heard the buzzer of the game, indicating that the game was over. Your moans grew louder as the idea of the entire hockey team rushing in hit you.

“Fuck,” Doyoung groaned his thrusts growing harsher, as you neared your climax. “You gotta cum now, pretty girl.” He said his arm winding around you so that his fingers could rub your clit. The added pressure pushed you along until your orgasm smashed into you. You moaned loudly as Doyoung continued to thrust into you, your muscles twitching around him pushing him to his climax.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck,” He panicked as he pulled out of you, using his hand to reach his orgasm. “We forgot a condom.” You turned around pushing his hand away and working him with your own until he came. You pushed your lips against him, both of you breathing erratically as you kissed.

“What am I going to wear to get out.” You asked him pulling away from him. You both looked at your wet clothes.

“I have an extra hoodie here, and I can look in Ten’s cubby he’s probably got sweats that will fit you.”

He didn’t finish his sentence as the boys crashed into the locker room. Your eyes widened mirroring Doyoung’s. He quickly yanked you pulling you towards the line of toilet stalls. He shoved you in as the boys barked at each other not noticing the two of you yet.

“Sorry stay here.” He said shoving his towel at your chest.

“Dude why are you walking around naked?” You heard Mark ask as you wrapped the towel around yourself.

“Because I can.” You hear Doyoung mumble back, his tone irritated.

---

“You guys take forever in the change room.” You complained as Doyoung walked with you to the dorms.

“My coach would have killed us.” He stated as he pulled you into him. “I’m sorry though that’s the only thing I could think of.”

“Whatever it’s okay.”

“So, I finally get to go up to your dorm huh?” He asked, and you nodded.

“I would have brought you sooner, but I have a roommate who never leaves our room. I love her but damn is she anti-social. Getting her to that start of the year party was hard.” You explained as the two of you climbed the stairs. Doyoung looked at your ass as you walked up in front of him. It was hard not to. He was glad to hear that the reason for not seeing your dorm was because of something simple and not what he’d actually made it into in his head. You rounded out the stairwell pushing the door open into the hall of your floor. Doyoung froze as he realized what floor you lived on. A floor he’d been to many, many times last semester.

“Doyoung?” He heard her voice before he saw, and dread set into him again. He snapped his head towards her direction as your hand slipped into his. His ex was staring at him, her eyes slightly wide as she took in his profile. The cut lip, the slightly swelling jaw. He frowned at her.

“What?” He asked his voice cold.

“Uh, what happened to you?” She asked.

“None of your business.” He replied. She nodded. He watched her as she swallowed and hesitated again. He tightened his hand around yours again.

“Uh yeah. D-do you think I could talk to you in private for a second?” she asked glancing over at you.

“Whatever you have to say you can say in front of Y/N.”

“Yeah, okay sure, you know I – I realized I never apologized to you.” She finally said. Doyoung was shocked, he was silent for a few seconds. He wasn’t sure if he heard that right. He was only snapped out of his daze when you tugged on his hand lightly taking his attention from his ex to you. You looked up at him with a soft expression on your face, you looked so wholly his. The way you were looking at him his heart clenched as he looked back at his ex. Somewhere along the way, he realized that he didn’t care about his ex anymore, he didn’t miss her or want her back. He was hurt sure but that was fading too. He knew he wanted to hear this and here it was, and it felt like he was being freed.

“I forgive you.” She nodded her eyes filling with water. Doyoung turned away from her taking you into his arms.

“Now show me where your room is baby.” He said smiling down at you. You smiled up at him and nodded pulling him with you towards your room.

“It’s nothing special.” You said as you pushed the room door open. He didn’t look around as he closed the door behind him. Just pushed you onto your bed, kissing you.

He wasn’t gonna let you get away from him.

Not that you were planning on going anywhere.

A/N: Thank you so much for reading this, I really hope you guy enjoyed it! Please let me know what you guys thought, any opinions or comments you have on the story are very much welcome I love to hear from you guys so please don’t hesitate to let me know what you think. Additionally if you have any constructive criticism don’t be afraid to let me know, I always want to get better so its welcome and appreciated.

The next part to this AU will be Winwin so please look forward to that! and once again thank your for reading I really hope you liked it!

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holykillercake · 4 years ago

Text

Heavenly Demons

paring: Doflamingo x Reader

word count: 1.7k

summary: How far down would you go to rise with the person who makes your heart beat stronger?

highlight: ¨Haste is the enemy of perfection, Doffy. We shall have all the time in the world.¨

warnings: implied smut, Doffy himself is already a warning, right?

notes: Hey guys! So, I have read a lot of stories where the main character contrasts with Doffy, but I wanted to write one where the reader kinda shares his ideologies. I really hope you like it!! <3

𝕷𝖊𝖆𝖛𝖊 𝖈𝖔𝖒𝖒𝖊𝖓𝖙𝖘, 𝖗𝖊𝖖𝖚𝖊𝖘𝖙𝖘, 𝖆𝖓𝖉 𝖑𝖔𝖛𝖊!

You closed your eyes and took a deep breath as the salty fresh air cooled your body down. The waves crashed violently, and thunderings cut across the skies, shouting to all eight seas to prepare themselves. You were coming for the throne. You were coming for the golden seat above the great serpent soaked in blood.

Large hands caressed your belly, fingers flirting with the soft skin of your breasts. You felt Doflamingo's naked and burning skin brush against your back, salty splashes of seawater blending with the salt of your sweat bodies.

¨Do you remember what you told me that day?¨ his voice was low and deep, masking the ferocity of a roaring predator.

¨Every word.¨

¨Can you repeat it?¨ you smirked, words already engraved on the tip of your sharp tongue.

He gazed at the ocean with thirst, recollecting all the sacrifices he made, all the breaths he took and raised a glass for all the blood he was yet to shed.

¨One day, you will rule them all. You will stand above their fallen bodies and step on them as they lick the floor you walk on.¨ His grip tightened on your waist, nails slightly craving into your skin.

¨I´m ready.¨

¨You have always been, Doffy.¨

¨Y/N.¨ he called you after a moment of silence.

¨Hm?¨ You hummed in response.

The man behind you struggled, brain fighting the words from coming out of his mouth. He pulled you away from the window, lifting you up while your legs wrapped around his hips. The ship rocked aggressively, rolls of maps and unlit candles rolling across the tapestry.

Doflamingo pressed you against the wall, tongue gliding furiously with yours. You felt his body growing stiff again, moans masked as grunts being muffled by your intoxicating kiss.

Whines came out with each heavy breath, your chest rising and falling when he finally parted the kiss, a single strand of saliva connecting both sinful lips.

You took that moment to look him in the eyes. This time, instead of the glasses adorning his beautiful features, the flashes of lightning from the storm illuminated what he was constantly trying to hide.

The eyes of a monster. A monster for whom you would kill, for whom you would slaughter. The eyes of the man for whom you descended from the Holy Land and got your hands dirty to help him rise above the so-called Gods.

You remembered your words as a child.

¨Those are not the true Gods.¨ he spoke in your ear.

Shivers ran down your spine, and your core twisted when you felt the tip of his manhood touch your sensitive and sore skin.

¨We are the true Gods.¨ a deafening thunder echoed through the structures of the Numancia Flamingo the moment he slipped inside you, covering your cries of lust and pleasure.

<~>

It was difficult to keep up with the man you followed. After all, he was tall and had incredibly long legs. At no time did he help you when you tripped over a piece of garbage and fell or when your legs gave up on exhaustion. On the contrary, he just kept walking.

¨May I ask for your name?¨

That's what came out of your mouth. You knew that shouting and imposing things would not work, not here. This was the territory of humans, and you would have to deal with it if you wanted to get to the boy.

¨May I ask...¨ he mocked you.

Your small hands, balled into fists, clenched while you snorted with hatred.

¨Calm down, brat. It´s over there.¨

Standing on the toes of your expensive shoes, you saw a well-known figure among sheds and piles of metal, with blond hair and dark glasses.

¨DOFFY!¨

¨Y/N!?¨ he sounded surprised to see you in such a filthy place.

Your steps hurried to get to him, ignoring the other people on the scene who looked at you with suspicion.

The ruffles of the skirt were now dirty from the trip, and your hair, always so neat, flew loose with the breeze and even got entangled.

¨What are you doing here?¨

¨Just making sure you got home safe.¨

¨Nyeh, nyeh, who is this, Doffy?¨ a disgusting old man with snot running down his nose asked.

¨She is the girl I told you about. She helped me escape.¨

¨Do not come closer!¨ you exclaimed to the man when he turned to you. The gooey thing swaying with every movement.

Doffy invited you into what he called home and offered you a shabby wooden stool so you could rest from the trip.

Even so young to understand the meaning of love, your heart ached when you saw the precarious situation in which he found himself. No, he was much greater than that.

Your families were neighbors in the Holy Land, so you constantly spent your free afternoons in the company of the Donquixote brothers. It fascinated you how different they were, like two opposite poles of a globe.

At some point, you noticed Rosinante's absence and assumed he had died like their parents. He too was not like you. He would never last.

¨What will you do? You can not accept this, Doffy.¨ you walked over to the boy in front of a window, eyes locked on the piles of scrap metal.

¨I know, Y/N. I am just thinking.¨ He hesitated to ask for your help, even though he knew how much more clever you could be.

The others just watched the interaction between the two children, the boy chosen by the heavens and the girl who spoke to him as an equal.

¨Claim what is yours, Doffy.¨

¨I tried.¨ his fingertips turned white from squeezing the window sill ¨I served my father´s head in a tray for them to feast, but-¨

¨That is not what I meant.¨ He searched your eyes for the first time, knowing that you were planning something. ¨You are a rightful king, the real deity, not them. Those are not the true Gods, Doffy. We are the true Gods.¨

The slimy man got up from the pest-infested couch, squinting at you. The brilliant idea he hadn't had before coming out of your mouth like a prophecy.

¨Dressrosa, the World Nobles, from the depts of the ocean to the six moons... one day, you will rule them all. You will stand above their fallen bodies and step on them as they lick the floor you walk on.¨

Electricity ran through your bodies, and tears of excitement filled your eyes.

¨Nyeh, your name is Y/N, right? ¨ the miry man asked, keeping a respectful distance from you. His voice annoyed you just as much. ¨It looks like you have a plan, behehehe. Tell us more about it.¨

You looked at him with contempt and mistrust.

¨It´s ok, Y/N. They are my family now.¨

That day you shared the plan that would shape the course of the Donquixote Pirates' operations, and everyone listened in silence, bewildered by the strategic mind of such a young child.

¨I will be your eyes and ears up there.¨

¨I´ll be quick, Y/N. I promise.¨ You shook your head.

¨Haste is the enemy of perfection, Doffy. We shall have all the time in the world.¨

That same night you returned to wealth and abundance, but your heart remained between the scraps and the boy, the Heavenly Yaksha.

For the next two decades, you focused on studies, following like a mantra the striking appearances of the Donquixote Pirates in the newspapers.

The World Nobles feared Doflamingo for his knowledge regarding matters that should be kept secret. Secrets you provided, tearing down the wall of the puny Gods, brick per brick.

Over time, your periodic visits to the world below the Red Line have become more intimate, going from an affectionate gesture to a dinner for two and the satiation of carnal desires.

But maybe there was love. Among the sins and horrors committed, there was a lull after a nightmare. When your fingers ran through his blond hair, and he took off his glasses before pulling you to his chest.

When you laughed at childhood memories or projected a future together.

Maybe it was love. But how could two beasts like you know for sure?

Perhaps it was not necessary to know the real meaning. When the sun came up again, you would be there together, ready to conquer, rule, and destroy.

When traitors raised their weapons and the weak perished, they would see the true face of God. Majestic and merciless.

When the weak rulers gave in to pressure, you would take the dirty hands of hopeless people and raise them up. And they would kiss the ground where you walked, freely and willingly.

¨Do you like our new home?¨ he asked, bringing you inside the feathery pink coat.

You stood in front of the window, watching the country over which you would make prosperity reign.

¨It´s amazing, Doffy.¨

¨Are you staying for good now?¨

A smile grew on your lips ¨I am, Doffy. I´m staying for good.¨

His laughter filled the room. He took your hand and guided you to the armchair, where you sat on his lap, already opening the zipper of your dress.

¨Twenty years, Y/N...¨ he put a lock of hair behind your ear ¨I have waited for twenty years, and now that we accomplished this, I am not letting you go again.¨

You leaned slowly and torturously, flirting with his mouth, teasing him. You wanted to feel each moment, each touch, and each spasm making your body squirm with pleasure.

¨We have all the time in the world...¨ you whispered, placing a kiss on his lips ¨I want to make this very slow and very pleasurable.¨

This time when the sun comes up, you would not have to leave.

He laughed again, wrapping his hand in your hair and pulling enough to make a moan escape your mouth.

¨I can´t promise slow...¨ his voice was low in your ear, weakening your entire body ¨but I will give you pleasure.¨

The trail of kisses on your neck made your guts twist, and your hips move against him, seeking relief.

¨I´m gonna take you right here and right now...¨ he pulled your hair a little harder ¨and I´m gonna make you my Queen.¨

Hey @vemuabhi! Here I go again hahaha

#one piece doflamingo #doflamingo x reader #op doflamingo #doffy #donquixote doflamingo #donquixote family #dressrosa #world nobles #celestial dragons #mary geoise #seven warlords #warlords of the sea #shichibukai #king #red line #numancia flamingo #trebol #diamante

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loki-darkprince-odinson · 3 years ago

Note

King Loki, I apologize for the rant but I would like some advice.

My father always makes me feel like complete garbage. He is always putting me down, never appreciates me, and makes my depression so much worse. I'm fixing up a house to move in with my friends but I'm still stuck at the house since my parents won't help me get my license or a car, much less a job. I cook, do dishes, take care of the pets, take out the trash, get the mail, do my laundry, wash towels, and help with their laundry. I also take care of my sick mother and while I'm currently on summer break, I'm going to college to become a clinical psychologist. Even then, my father will point out other things that I don't do, and expects me to clean the entire house every day. He always talks about how he needs to do everything around the house yet all he does is sleep, play video games, and watch television. He also says he works hard yet on many occasions he says he sits on his ass all day on his tablet. He also yells so much. I get scared every day when he starts yelling because I worry he may leave us, which he has threatened before, or he may actually hit us. He never has hit either my mother or I yet, and says he never would but he slams and throws things when angry at us so it's his way of showing us how much he wants to hit us, even if he doesn't realize it. However, not only do I have many responsibilities, My depression makes it difficult for me to do much, and he makes it worse. Even when I do try to clean the house he always makes comments such as: "About time." or "How long until it gets cleaned next time?" or "This was half assed, you didn't do it right." I have tried so hard to have a connection with him but I'm so tired of fighting for a relationship that he doesn't care about. I can't address my concerns with him because he will threaten to not take me to college and pay the bills. Do you have any advice to help me deal with my father until I can escape?

Best regards, Catrina.

“Catrina,” Loki drawls, in his smooth resonate voice. “I firstly must commend your good work. For caring for your ill mother, minding the household needs, and that you get up in the morning even if your soul is weary and your bones ache for a rest; that you keep on living even if you do not know how to anymore. Secondly, you have my deepest sympathies for your grievances. I am all too familiar with what it is like to seek the approval of a parent; only for there to be none in return.” His eyes were completely unfocused, yet his pallid features bore the most intense concentration as memories flowed unbidden.

He says nothing for a moment. Then, something in the edge of his mouth—and the corner of his eyes—resembled the ghost of a sad smile.

“Those whom I knew and called my mother and father are dead. That much is beyond dispute. They were not my real parents, but they raised me as their own. I daresay they loved me. That had been in dispute, at least in my own mind for awhile. I found out very late that my identity was a lie. Not Asgardian, not a son of Odin, I was completely unmade. That was how I felt when I learned of my true parentage. I was a fraud, a monster; it explained so much. It explained why I never felt like I fit in, why I would never be my brother's equal, why I would never get what I'd been promised my whole life.” His voice was soft, hoarse. Intent.

Loki raises his left hand and rests his forefinger against his lips as a line forms between his own eyebrows in thought.

“I have lingered around Midgard long enough to come to an understanding of how your minds tick. I shall do my best to give advice where I can.

Try, if you will, to put things into perspective. The most loving parents commit murder with smiles on their faces. They force one to destroy the person they really are: a subtle kind of murder. Even the most loving parents damage their children with the best intentions—to protect them, to guide them, to better them. In most cases, it would appear they do it by imprinting their own fears and prejudices on them.

The point is, parents are mere, imperfect people.

They have flaws, struggles and impaired judgement. They have both emotional and intellectual handicaps. Regardless of their parental role, they are afflicted by personal blockages and limitations.

But most of all, they are people who make mistakes, and who are terrified of being judged by their children.

Learn to see your difficult parent as just that; human. Learn to see their emotional immaturity as a type of disability.

With that in mind, you would do well to keep your expectations of them low.

In many ways the effect a difficult parent has on ones self is fueled by their feelings of injustice and the belief that things could be different, or ought to be different.

In other words, your expectations dictate how you feel.

You need to let go of your expectations and accept your parent for who they are.

You cannot expect someone with, say, a narcissistic personality, to act with empathy and kindness. No more than you can expect a scorpion not to sting.

Difficult parents are much easier to deal with when you accept that they will not change. So do not expect of them more than they are capable of, and you will not be disappointed or hurt.

Do not fall into the illusion of guilt, Catrina.” He warns. “A difficult parent loves nothing more than to make you feel like you’ve hurt them. Or, in a different scenario, like you’re a bad person if you do not do something they ask.

Do not fall for it. If they’re setting a guilt trap, calmly tell them that you do not appreciate being emotionally manipulated, and you will not tolerate it anymore.

Manipulators, and I should know, detest being called out on their dirty tricks.

If they continue to harass you, reiterate that you cannot do what they’re asking you to do this time, and you need them to respect that.

The trick is agreeing with everything they’re saying (how can they argue when you agree with them?) and re-stating your decision over and over again.

Now this part I find to be… far more easier said than done. You must let go of the need for your father's approval, Catrina. It goes without saying that every child needs and wants their parents’ approval. It is normal to want it, and it is normal to receive it.

Yet so many have to accept the fact that this is not going to happen. For whatever reason, their parent has chosen to withhold their approval. Some difficult parents do it as a form of punishment. While others hope to influence their child in the “right” direction.

Most likely, your father loves you, but they have a very warped idea of what parental love is.

In their misguided quest to make you into a version of themselves, they missed the chance to get to know you. And so they cannot appreciate you for the wonderful being that you are.”

He shrugs elegantly. “It is their loss. When you realize this and let go of the need for their approval, you will be able to start living your life in a whole new way.

When confronting your father, be direct and calm without expecting a specific response. That is the part you cannot control. The part that is within your control is letting your thoughts and feelings known, which is empowering.

Stick to the facts and use “I” statements such as, “I feel like my words do not matter to you when you constantly interrupt me” or “I feel scared and misunderstood when you yell at me”

Remember that manipulative parents are not known for their empathy. They will try to confuse you, go on the offensive, or assume the role of a victim.

Do not allow them to bully you into submission by invoking guilt or pity. State your case in a calm and polite manner, and stay cool regardless of their response.

Your goal is to be honest about your feelings, and to make it clear that you will not tolerate certain behaviors.” He softly clears his throat.

“Last but not least, an unhappy alternative is forgoing the relationship that is too harmful. I know, a parent is not someone you can so easily cut out of your life. But if all else fails and your father continues to cause you psychological harm, then this may very well need to be taken into considerable consideration; at least for the foreseeable future. Sometimes it is the only logical recourse.

A parent that is fundamentally incapable of showing love and support, unable to see the error of their ways after numerous attempts to communicate how their behavior or words affect you, consistently dismissive, demeaning or critical, manipulative in a habitual manner, punishing and cruel whenever you disobey, are disrespectful of your boundaries and using threats and intimidation to get what they want is a destructive force that will continue to tear you down until you put a stop to it.

It is not an easy feat, my dear. The parent-child bond is hardwired into the brain, which means children get attached to even the most awful of parents.

But consider the cost of having that toxic relationship in your life—stress breeds anxiety, depression, internalized feelings of inadequacy, and failed personal relationships.

I wish you all the best, Catrina. I truly do.”

#loki #loki rp #loki odinson #ask loki #ask #parental troubles #gothiccatrina #loki roleplay

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tg-headcanons · 3 years ago

Note

Drop those shuunaki babies hcs please!

ABSOLUTELY ! Okay I have way more of these than I thought I just love these stupid dudes and their stupid kids

After those two extremely weird dudes got married, had a long honeymoon, and settled for awhile, they’d look into getting kids. Both never had any doubts that they wanted them, Naki likes kids and totally lit up when he realized he could have his own, and Shuu had always wanted to start a family since he was 9.

Their original plan was to get a surrogate. They’ve got the money and Shuu had assumed he’d have bio kids, but when Mirumo heard from Kanae that his son was planning on giving him grandchildren, he asked him to come in and talk to him alone. Shuu went in, excited to plan for having kids, and his dad immediately grabbed him by the shoulders and said something along the line of “I’m so proud of you for starting your journey as a father but I am literally begging you not to have bio kids. You’re the first gay in the family you have the option to adopt or use your husband as a donor and should.” Obviously Shuu is confused, he thought his father would want a grandson that had their blood, but was convinced by “you know how you’re a hemophiliac? Garbage genes. Rc absorption problems? Garbage genes. DO YOU REMEMBER YOUR BACK BRACE? DO YOU WANT YOUR CHILD TO HAVE THE BACK BRACE? IT WILL!” Shuu is many things, but he is not a man who would subject another person to his bullshit Alabama genes if it means they’ll have to suffer through going to middle school in a back brace like he did. He was nervous to tell Naki about the change in plans after they’d already made them, but he was totally indifferent. Okay we doing store bought instead of homemade? Cool let’s get a blond one! Doesn’t care at all he just wants child

They send Kanae out to find some ghoul kids. It used to be easy, ghoul children used to be orphaned all the time, but since decriminalization they’ve all been cared for. Kanae tells them that they can literally just go to an adoption agency and ask for ghoul kids.

Obviously this gay couple made up of a flamboyant rich twink and an illiterate bastard who ate something out of the trash but had perfect eyeliner, both of whom ate people, were ushered immediately away from the human kids. Luckily they’re rich enough to not get dropped from the adopter list so, as rude as biased foster parents are, they still get to meet with the ghoul kids. While Shuu is looking around, realizing that he has no idea how to choose a child to be his own, Naki had already clicked with one. There’s a mute kid with two siblings who’s been there awhile, and Naki so happens to have two best friends who taught him some simple sign. After watching his husband chatting with this kid who looks tentatively hopeful about having someone who can communicate well with him, he knows it’s not even a question

They adopt the three kids. Satoshi, the mute boy, is the oldest at 9. Fudo, the middle boy, is 6. Hoshi, the only girl, is 3. They lost their parents shortly after the youngest was born and had been bounced around foster homes ill equipped for ghouls for awhile, so suddenly having two loving parents, a team of servants ready to help them, and a massive estate, is more than any of them expected

Satoshi immediately latched onto Shuu. The kid loves art and music and his flamboyant ass father couldn’t be more excited to take him to museums and concerts. Now all the upscale events he goes to he takes Satoshi, and it’s common gossip that Tsukiyama has a tiny, silent, blond clone of himself with him at all times. Seriously that kid took right to being a noble’s son, he’s got a tiny suit and everything

Naki has a talent for getting along with kids, he’s always been protective of kids and now that he has his own he’s never away from them. He’s never let Fudo out of his sight for long and barely puts Hoshi down. A lot of the time he’s got all three kids climbing on him and he’s never been happier

Since the Lets Not Eat People vaccine, ghouls have had trouble getting used to human food, especially kids who are picky enough on their own. Shuu always had the most gourmet dishes because he only allows the best for his kids, but they didn’t really like any of it. Shuu was ranting to Chie about how he’s worried about his children not eating, and she suggested that kids don’t want gourmet shit, they just was Dino nuggets or something. He refuses to believe her, but one day she shows up with some microwaved chicken fingers and the kids DEMOLISH it. Shuu finally relents and feeds his kids “middle class garbage” as he puts it. At least Satoshi likes lobster, the only loyal bastard in this house.

Speaking of Chie, she and Kanae make an amazing aunt and uncle. While Kanae is more of a Child Wrangler, Chie is a Child Enabler who gives them candy and firecrackers to scare the shit out of Shuu. They look forward to her visits every time

Fudo is hyperactive, even for a ghoul kid. They give him coffee, which for ghouls helps calm them since it’s how most of them deal with their own hyperactivity, but it doesn’t do much. This kid just needs to move and luckily he’s on an estate where he can do that. He and Naki go sprinting and chasing through the gardens, often with Hoshi or Satoshi on his shoulders, and zoom until he’s exhausted

Having dealt with ghoul persecution, parental death, and being a mute kid in ill equipped foster care, Satoshi understandably has some issues. He hides food in his room and tries to take care of illnesses or messes himself since he’s not used to having guardians quick to help him. Luckily his dads step right in to help him, they’ve gotten him (and his brother for good measure) a therapist and do whatever they can to help him feel at home. He hides food in his room? Okay let’s get a mini fridge so ants don’t get to it. Afraid they’ll be mad when he gets sick or makes a mess? That’s okay they’ll ask him all the time how he’s feeling and if there’s anything they can help him with. The kid’s been doing way better since getting there

Naki is always dragging everyone into family cuddles. He never got physical affection as a kid and is making Damn sure his kids do

Getting them to school was a priority. By the time they adopted ghouls have been decriminalized for a few years and schools are open to them, so they don’t have to go through the same thing Mirumo did for Shuu of setting up a network of ghoul teachers to protect him. They send them to the best elementary school they could find with ironclad IEPs and the only hard part was getting Naki to stop staking out the school. The kids are fine, go home

Mirumo is an awesome grandpa, he’s always visiting the kids. He’s also a very weird man and always telling wild stories

The white suits join in on taking care of these kids, if they’re Boss Naki’s children that means they’re all uncles now

Both Shuu and Naki freaked out when Satoshi started forming his first kagune. Shuu still shudders at the memory of the terrifying and painful ordeal of his and Naki’s wasn’t much better. They assume his will be just as difficult and scary, but it only takes a minute for him to form his, a lovely rose colored ukaku. Turns out the dads just had particularly bad experiences and their kid is fine, but was still immediately rushed into celebratory cuddles

The older these kids get, the more they understand how weird their family is but don’t dislike any of it. Sure Dad can’t read, sure Papa is embarrassingly dramatic in front of their friends, but they couldn’t ask for a better family

#tokyo ghoul #tokyo ghoul headcanon #shuunaki #naki #shuu tsukiyama

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mushroom-cartel--writing · 4 years ago

Text

begrudging (love-)blindness

Summary: You are, to him, unquestionably, terrifyingly lovely.

Relationship(s): Gojo Satoru & Reader, Gojo Satoru/Reader

Note(s):

Here’s the link to read this on AO3! (You know the drill, extra tags, different notes, the format I intended, etc.)

Personally, I think this is hot garbage in terms of structure and pacing (it’s loosely all strung together is what I’m saying, but I just needed to get it off my chest before I wrote anything else. Yet... I guess I had fun? Yeah. I did!

There's spoilers from the manga mixed with headcanon.

I still hate spacing and formatting on Tumblr, it sucks. Please, please, please, this is for your own good, click the AO3 link, this fic is such an eyesore on this platform.

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There’s a tug at your chest, sending you hurtling backwards and into something hard. A wall. Tiles. Smooth.

The heavens and the earth view one another through a layer of haze of light at night.

There are thousands of people gathering, their footsteps thundering echoes in your ears. Their chatter is a constant hum in the air. It stinks of sweat.

(“The train will be arriving soon. Please stand behind the yellow line—”)

You sigh.

“Dammit, Satoru! A little warning would be nice,” you hiss to the man. You hear him whisper something back but his voice is swallowed up by the crowds and then he, too, is consumed.

You feel him wander farther away from you; not left with much choice, you follow him. And down, down, down you go.

You pause when there’s an invisible wall blocking your path of his own making. “Hey!!” you shout, starting to scream expletives at him from the top of his lungs and he doesn’t look back.

A few seconds pass. The people, these poor, clueless civilians who just want to go home for the night are like sardines in a can, their bodies pushing and shoving. For space. For air. Requiring neither, you phase through the wall and the remaining levels to catch up to him, the thoughts going through your head solely focused on figuring out why he has let you out. He wouldn’t do something like this without warning you beforehand.

Why now? What now?

You pull out from the shadowed cracks of the feeble curtain set up along the fifth floor underground, suddenly feeling a heaviness you hardly ever experience. You run a cursory swipe over his teeth; the blood in the air is fresh, there are more civilians down here than up above, more sardine-ing (their presence is fading away, the above platforms’ panicked din becomes extinguished, it’s ghastly quiet, a moment frozen in time), but no Satoru. Not physically.

He loves you, you know. (You don’t understand though… Why?)

It’s a burden, draining you of what vigour is left in your soul, barely just clinging on to this plane itself.

His love is a curse in itself, really.

"I don't want you to see me hurt," he had said often, back when you were children, oblivious to the power of those words until you got older.

What they meant.

What they did—to him and you.

Still as the wind, you stand together, hands brushing up against each other's, your fingers infected with poison where his is not; the calloused skin and scars shared between you weaving a tale for the ages that will never be told.

You’re both nineteen at heart but certainly not in spirit.

You lean against him, completely unseen, waiting for him to flick his finger back.

Waiting for him to obliterate the first person he thought he could trust outside.

He doesn’t. You disappear for another time, expectant.

His love is a burden and you're not sure where you would be without it.

If he hadn't looked your way, would you be the same person you are today?

It's frightening, these thoughts of yours, but he usually chases them off when he senses them bubbling to the surface. (You want him to be annoyed.) A casual grin and stance, a flick of his wrist, a rush of wind by your side, then the phantom pressure is gone, yes, gone, however—it's never banished completely. It never can be.

You don't remember the colour of his eyes but there's a memory of you claiming they looked like marbles, buried somewhere (somehow), in the back of your mind. Like the marbles you'd smash glass bottles to obtain, their fizzy contents only drained seconds beforehand; stubby, sticky, small fingers sorting through the shards, squashing ants in the process.

Those very same fingers, now, haven't changed a bit, save for the chipped nails and whatnot duress they’ve sustained throughout his life.

You use them to push the blindfold up to his forehead, taking in the surrounding sights.

Why now? The fact that you can feel them, his fingers and everything else—that’s a bad sign. A very bad sign.

You breathe, inflating the faux lungs.

Finally, you see it. The reason why you’re walking and talking and fully corporeal.

You gulp at the living corpse, its stitches wonky and fresh. Cerebrospinal fluid spills from its face in fat droplets and lands upon the clothes of a dead man. Disgusting.

“So I was right in the end,” you say, more for yourself than anyone else. “You’re not Suguru.”

(Satoru owes you a thousand yen. You told him to burn the body immediately. Or, you know, the usual. But what’d he do instead? He went and passed it off to a third party! Man, why’d that old hag have to kick the bucket so soon… If she was still around she’d probably kick Satoru’s dumb ass for trying to be decent.)

“How are you free?” Not-Suguru asks.

The real Suguru wouldn’t ask about your appearance. He would make a comment about how the temperature has dropped and burrow into his collar. He wouldn’t question things.

The real Suguru never acknowledged you, but he knew there was something in the corner of his eye that took the image of his friend and laughed alongside them when they pulled their antics during missions.

The real Suguru is gone.

Who the hell knows where Shouko is.

Yeah. A little warning would have been nice. Real fucking nice.

There’s a cube with a dozen eyes between the two of you, the crater on the ground betrays its unassuming weight. Satoru’s muted presence, a shrunken pearl of light, emanates from the cube.

Not-Suguru follows your line of sight to it.

Giving him an answer would be a waste of your time.

You can’t, they say.

Young master, please, don’t go there, implores the servants and guards.

The elders, his grandmother especially, tell him not to enter the storehouse tucked away in the garden behind an avenue of camellia trees because that’s something they’ll discuss when he’s older.

He doesn’t listen to them, the curiosity of a three-year-old child cannot be satisfied by mere words. (“Let this be known,” the gardener says in his defense, one cold summer’s day. It is raining outside. His grandmother shoots the only person in the compound that doesn’t treat him like a blind fool with a withering glare. He does not see them again until—)

What’s in the storehouse?

A library of cursed objects? Spiritual remnants, artefacts, texts, poisons, weapons?

Maybe the mummified corpse of an ancestor whom they keep around to ward off evil?

Perhaps a curse, frozen in time forevermore?

Maybe it’s nothing and the adults are all in on some kind of elaborate hoax, he figures. Mm, yeah. Sounds about right. No one else knows about the storehouse.

It’s old and earthen. Wild plants curl the walls to one side and splotches of moss grow on the tiled roof. Where the sun hits least is pristine. Clean. He wonders if that’s where the wards are placed, out of sight, out of mind.

Oh.

Standing in the entrance of the open door with bare feet, at the threshold of the aged structure, fulfilling his desire, he learns why they wanted him to remain ignorant.

It’s a child. (A human…? This whole situation is off.) A kid his age. He can’t tell whether or not they’re older or younger. They might be a bit taller, though.

No, he wants to shout, this can’t be it! He stomps his foot. That’s cliché! Boring, boring, boring! Again, he strikes the ground. Ugh, whatever—

A sigh escapes the emaciated figure sitting in the darkness, hunched over themself against the wall of the bare storehouse.

“Ah, my f̶̥̍r̵̝͐̏i̷̳end,” they start, softly. “M̶̹̦͒y̸͍̮̋̚ f̸͉̓̋r̴͇̦̕ǐ̴̦͇e̵̫͠n̷̢͉̅̓ḍ̸̅, my very dear, old friend. You have returned.

“My e̷̳̭̿y̶͈͂e̷͔̭̎͘s̴̭̄̊, have you come to give them back? Ask for several others?

“I have waited for you, as promised. Come. Closer. Please. I do not know how long has passed since I last gazed upon your visage. Do not be afraid.

“I no longer lust for flesh as fervently as before, I will not ask of y̸͖͔̒o̵̳̍u̵͍̘̓ ą̴͕̈́n̵̫̓d̸̛̳͛ y̵̻͑̎o̵̖̥͒͌ų̴͋̐r̵̦̩̓s a sacrifice to please me.”

Their voice is garbled, the resemblance to a broken radio off-pitch jarring his reaction time, a music box opened underwater gurgling, ghosts beat to the rhythm of the blood in his ears and titter buried mysteries.

In the corner of his eyes distant stars burn, galaxies explode to life and die repeatedly, the vast cosmos is shredded apart. Universes are swallowed whole. The plane he stands upon bends to the will of the one whose gifts he uses carelessly to play the role of a deity and dictate the balance of the world.

People have said [they] reflect the very heavens.

His faith wanes.

a trio of ragtag orphans,

escapees, survivors and starved,

on the verge of being

no better than beasts,

happen upon a traveller taking respite from the winding roads.

a foreigner no doubt

they guess from the strange hued garb;

rest, everyone around these parts,

they know comes not

easy to scum, scoundrels, sinners and

deceivers alike.

mad ones, rushing to death

—without protection i must add—

oh my darling children, you are!

consume my flesh,

defend those unseeing,

purge the blight

and you shall witness

my return before long, indeed?!

They do not move and neither does he.

What he assumes to be their head tilts ever so to the side, gauging him, this fool of a boy trespassing on their domain. This part of the garden, the little boy realises too late, is theirs.

This, the storehouse and now him.

(—the gardener finds him sprawled out on his back come dusk. They help him to his feet and dust him off, the sparkle in his eyes an unusual occurrence; they ask their precious young master what happened and he points them in the direction of the doors sealed shut.

“I took a peek inside,” he lies. Children are supposed to do that, right?

“And what did you find?”

“Nothing.” The gardener knows he’s a bad liar.

“Good. Now come.” They lead him away from the path of the camellias. “Lady Mitsue has been beside herself over you, mister.”

His grandmother hasn’t. She probably knows what he has done and will instruct him to feed the council what they want to hear. My son was too soft, she asserts before and after every meeting with those windbags.

You have to do better.

And his father is dead, so only time will tell who’s right.)

He starts having weird dreams (memories?) several days later.

Trying to ignore them doesn’t work.

Every waking moment is subject to gore.

He has to resist the urge to scratch his own eyes out while he trains.

In the world beneath his eyelids, there are shadowy figures claiming it best he is blinded and locked away and fed what no other soul could hope to consume without issue. And just as they force open his jaw—every night, every time—he wakes up.

Satoru doesn’t know what to make of it. Doesn’t know what to make of you.

One day, he dreams of years of living without sunlight causing you to screw your not-eyes shut and look away upon the opening of a door into your domain. When you recover, you turn to the door, the emotion of curiosity tugging for your attention out of the myriad of beings you’ve eaten.

Standing at the threshold, ethereal, desperate and short of breath, is a young man. In his arms is a woman, his wife, you presume. They’re stark shades of white, binary stars of a celestial system long dead.

You smile, recognising them in an instant. “Ah, my old friends, children of my children’s children a dozen times over, tell me, what is it you wish for?”

“My wife and our child,” says the man, “please, I beg of you, save them!”

Oh? A healing? It’s been quite some time since that was last requested of you.

You skitter to the pair’s side and shut the door gently behind them, ushering them further in.

You click your not-tongue at the woman’s state, wondering why no one thought to come to you earlier. If they did, the price they’d have to pay would be much less than what you’re about to tell the man. Humans are such prideful creatures, Satoru knows this, but he can’t help but feel tense as you instruct the man to lay the woman down and state your cost.

First, he opens his mouth. Then it shuts. Opens. Shuts. The man regards his dear wife with something Satoru has never seen before in the eyes of those around him.

His reply?

“I accept—”

A harsh smack to the head disrupts the memory; he looks up, unsurprised to meet his grandmother’s gaze, wrinkled eyes so very much like his own piercing his soul.

“Being distracted in the middle of a fight is unbecoming of you, boy,” she says. “What seems to be the matter?”

He can’t tell her.

He stays silent.

“Satoru.” She raises her hand, fingers crossed, indicating the void’s opening. “We Gojou pride ourselves on our ability to adapt. That is why, in fact, I say my son was too soft. He could not accept that he would lose my daughter-in-law and the child she carried in her womb to common illness. He could not accept that it was impossible to cheat death. He could not accept the position he was placed in. And for that, he died and of the aforementioned two, only you lived. Do you understand?”

No. He doesn’t want to understand.

What is adaptation if they’ve yet to rid themselves of and bow down to your constant presence? Is that not their most fatal flaw?

You eat them.

One life in exchange for another; you told his father it was the only way.

You were given the corpse of his mother a hundred days after his birth by the elders.

Every Gojou after death, you grind their bones between your teeth and their flesh rots at the bottom of your belly. Their soulful essence fights for dominance against the forces of the innumerable curses the clans feeds you—the hate, the sentiment, the sheer bursts of techniques and mighty powers clashing, click, click, click—you embody and absorb the aftermath of each childish scuffle, playing the bored jailer adjudicator. Corpses, tools, objects, energy and flesh. It’s how you’ve lived for so long without light or human thought to taint you: the jujutsu world’s dirty little secret, waste disposal.

You are, to him, unquestionably, terrifyingly lovely.

He loves you for that one reason.

A means to an end, forever.

(The boy, a few days shy of his fourth birthday and inauguration, does not know what love is. He thinks he does, having read the definition in a dictionary in order to familiarise you with modern speech, but love is not a word to be thrown around lightly the way he does.)

“I do,” he lies again, this time, to himself. “I understand everything.”

His sight is black.

He pushes back against the current, against instinct telling him to relinquish control and reaches forward for the dream that he was ripped from.

Your true form towers over his mother’s prone form, dripping ichor and the fluid of loose entrails all over. His father stays seated even when you lift an arm to draw blood, the man facing you without a trace of fear.

“I accept—but on the condition that my child receives your protection.”

“My p̶̹̽r̴̽ͅo̵̠͐ť̷̬e̶̺̊c̶̻̒t̷̙͑i̵̮̓o̶̱n̷̖͂?” Do they not teach the younger generations what that entails?

“Yes. My ancestors wrote that you were a benevolent being in a past life. That you were a kind-hearted human who accidentally drank poison before being found and buried alive, condemned and reviled, forcing you to become what you are now. Does that still not hold true?” His father’s face is hopeful.

It doesn’t. But who are you to tell him that? That ‘benevolent being’ never existed in the first place. You’ve always been this.

The vivisepulture part was true, but the beginning? Debatable. Your memories of ‘being human’ are foggy; you’re not sure if they’re real or someone else’s. Satoru’s is the clearest thus far because you abide within him. And he’s young, there’s little to garner.

What other nonsense has been made truth in the time you have withdrawn from the world?

He wants to go down that rabbit hole.

You grab the cube and run, warping reality in your wake.

You are many things.

Alive, you are first; secondly a parent, a teacher and a friend; cursed thrice times over; quarter something-something or rather by this point; and last, your hollowness complements the damned hallowed.

You are Gojou Satoru but not.

His skin peels off in delicate scales from the speed you’re going.

The first and last time you puppeteer his body, Satoru invokes his father’s contract with you for the second time in his life.

Like the first occurrence, it happens by accident.

(The first occurrence is a stain on your memory.

Mitsue looked her grandson in the eye and tasked him with a futile quest, one that would decide the future headship of their clan. You personally thought such practices outdated but you held his tongue and grit his teeth, faking laughter for the audience they had.

She reminded you too much of your youngest, both in the way she cobbled herself together and how she suspended time long enough to catch a glimpse of you hunched beside him, flickering in and out of her void domain with the ease of a toddler climbing free of their crib.

Beautiful and deadly.

He nearly died.)

He is unaware of the finer details, but where his consciousness ends at getting a scalpel to head, it rouses again with him standing before the man who has the blood of Satoru’s friends on his hands and left him to bleed out undecapitated.

On a high from escaping Izanami’s clutches, he sprouts math and whatever nonsense off the top of his head and ragdolls up, down, across and through the air.

He feels like a being higher than the gods. Doesn’t mean he is, though.

He’s barely in control.

Violent swashes of red and blue fill the sky. He sees beyond his opponent rising from the earth the heavens condemning his breaching unto their space.

“Hey, stranger, did you know purple was her favourite colour?”

“Whose?”

“Satoru.”

“Hm?”

“You are Satoru, right?”

“Yessssss?”

“You… you’ve got a bit of…” Suguru gestures vaguely around the lower half of his face.

“Oh.” You rub the corner of his mouth with the pad of his thumb and see it come back tinged pink. The drying drool on his sleeves is used to rub the rest of the blood away. “Thanks.”

“Have you found her?”

“Amanai? Her body?” Suguru flinches. Your gaze is drawn to the cultists clapping. “Yeah, I did. Sorry.”

“What are you apologising for?”

“I don’t know,” Satoru says. “I feel like killing these people. Should we?”

“Why?”

“I’m still h̸͓̟͐u̴̦͗n̴͇͈̅͛g̵͔̒̕ŗ̴͕͂͘y̸͚͍͘͘.” Two wasn’t even a snack.

“I’m angry that we failed too. But we can’t do anything now, it’s out of our hands.”

Several days later finds him back at the entrance of the storehouse, none the worse for wear.

In the shadow of the building grows a lone weed.

“It’s changed.”

“Of course it has.”

“Will I end up like them?”

“Yes.”

#jujutsu kaisen x reader #gojou satoru x reader #gojo x reader #gn!reader #gender-neutral reader #gojo satoru x reader #reader insert #one-shot #originally posted on ao3 #jujutsu kaisen #this is a dumpster fire

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