#without her father coddling her

[lyricalchrysanthemum]

Bee my darling

[fantastic-mr-corvid]

its been almost six fucking months and what do i have to show for it. how the fuck am i meant to go and face my fucking family. what do i fucking have to talk about. how am i meant to face myself. all of my freinds have at least picked up a few shifts but here i fucking am. oh im so sorry mum you feel so bad at yelling at me, oh its because my life falling apart was stressful for you???? thats so fucking sad, not like i was having every single one of my hopes and dreams crushed before me. but yeah bo ho you for yelling at your kid bc that kids life was fucking ruined. bo fucking ho. im so sorry that your traumatized from the piece of shit called my father, maybe you could admit the part you played in his abuse of me beyond what you can use to self flagelate. fucking hell why am i acting like your damn therapist i am your fucking child. one of us here is the fucking grown woman and one of us is a traumatized disabled depressed barely an adult. fucking act like it.

[rose-tinted-nostalgia]

.

[caramel-ribbons]

I just watched Avatar for the first time all the way through, and yeah, it’s great, but the one thing that surprised me was how different Katara was compared to the fandom interpretation I’d seen and internalized before watching.

Like, before you watch Avatar, you’ve seen all these memes about Katara and her mom, and based on those memes, you assume it’s one of those lines you have to get used to hearing at least once every episode. But then you watch the show and realize that she only talks about her mom maybe five or six times per season and you also realize she only brings her up when she’s trying to comfort someone or empathize with them because that’s how she processes her grief and that’s one way she connects with people.

Or you hear the infamous line, “then you didn’t love [our mother] the way I did” and you prepare yourself for one of the worst character assassinations ever only to see the scene after nearly three seasons worth of context and realize she was kinda right. She’s been the mother, the nurturer, the comforter. She’s been patient, gentle, and accommodating where everyone else has gotten to be insensible and reckless and childish, and the one moment where she allows herself to feel her grief, suddenly she’s this evil bitch and not, y’know, a 14 year old girl whose been thrusted into adulthood in a way no other character has. A 14 year old girl who should be allowed immaturity and raw emotion and anger instead of the patience and grace she’s been forced to extend to every character without even the smallest amount of gratitude or even consideration in return.

Or you see all of the clips where Katara puts Aang in the “friendzone” and you expect to have this wishy washy back and forth where Aang is putting his feelings out there only to have Katara neither commit nor express any clear reciprocation or rejection. Then you watch and realize that, as cute as the ship is initially, that there’s never a point where Aang returns any comfort or grace to Katara despite her always doing this for him to the point of coddling. That for as much as Aang says he loves her, he never seems to outgrow his perception of her so he can recognize her as someone who feels grief, anger, and pain as much as she expresses love, kindness, and maturity. And instead of having moments where he learns to see her beyond her strength or compassion, you’re instead given moments where Aang forces his feelings onto her, both romantic and non-romantic, and Katara is expected to just…shoulder those feelings the way she shoulders everyone else’s.

Katara is the most misunderstood character in the show. As much as people recognize the complexities of Zuko, Sokka, and Azula, they struggle to do the same for Katara because they see her struggles as somehow lesser, and therefore, less deserving of sympathy. They can handle her so long as she’s being endlessly patient and loving and kind, but the moment her endless love, patience, and kindness runs out, she’s suddenly this annoying bitch who can’t shut up about her mother or reciprocate Aang’s feelings. But Katara’s trauma does matter as much as anyone else’s. No, she wasn’t banished from her kingdom. No, she didn’t lose her entire community, and no, she isn’t the only one who lost her mother. But the difference between her and everyone else whose experienced loss because of the Fire Nation is that she’s never given time to process her trauma. Aang gets to lean on Katara constantly. Toph gets to express her feelings to Katara, and yeah, Sokka also lost their mother, but unlike Katara, he isn’t put in the position of being a substitute for everyone’s parent. He even admits that he sees his sister as a mother. The only characters who ever comfort Katara or allow her to vent is Zuko and her father and that’s, like, three scenes in a show where the other characters are consistently given opportunities to seek out Katara for unconditional support.

The fandom interpretation of Katara has been so bastardized that even those who haven’t watched the show know her for this fanon version and not for who she is. She’s such an interesting character beyond her fandom limitations, though. She’s brave, hot-headed, and hopeful as well as gentle and caring. She wishes to learn waterbending, not only because she wants to fight in the war, but because she wants to continue her culture’s practices because, and people often forget this, she also lost an entire subculture within her already fractured tribe. And she wants to defeat the Fire Nation both because of her deep love and empathy for other people, but also because she wants to avenge her mother. But because some of the fans have reduced Katara to a bitch who constantly whines about her mother and friendzones Aang, you wouldn’t know any of this, and it sucks because she’s the only character whose been dumbed down to such an extent.

[bvidzsoo]

Take me to Paris...

▽ Neighbor!Seonghwa ▽

∞ Author: bvidzsoo

∞ Pairing: Park Seonghwa x female reader

∞ Warning: light mocking, blood, murder ∞ Word count: 5.6k ∞ Genre: non-idol!au, mafia!au, single mother!au, moving in together!au ∞ Rating: nc-17 ∞ Summary: With the appearance of Park Seonghwa in your neighborhood on a random afternoon, you find yourself running into him more often than not. You can't help but be skeptical of him, but I mean, your daughter loves him, so he must be a good man, right?

∞ A/N: I haven't forgotten about this little drabble series I have started a while ago, fear not hehe! Finally, Seonghwa's part is here, I hope it's enjoyable as I find it wonky lol. I don't know yet who I'll be posting next, it could be either Hongjoong, or Wooyoung, or even Mingi. Oh, and nothing is too detailed so you don't have to worry about that. I'm not starting a taglist for this one, sorry<3 (you'll have to lurk around) Feedback is much appreciated and I hope you enjoy!

▽ Listen to this before or while reading! ^^

∥ Hongjoong ∥ Seonghwa ∥  Yunho ∥ Yeosang ∥ San ∥ Mingi ∥ Wooyoung ∥ Jongho ∥ 

            Summer was nearing its end, the weather slowly turning cloudier and moodier. The mornings were chill, refreshing, but throughout the day it would warm up significantly, allowing you to walk around wearing thin and cute outfits. However, by the time the evening came, you’d have to cover up with something warm to keep yourself from catching a cold. All of that while trying to remain fashionable, well, whatever a four-year-old found fashionable enough. Wrestling my little one into outfits that would keep her both warm but not too hot was rather difficult as she turned out to have a rather stubborn persona even at her young age. Not liking to be coddled, but also hating to be alone was something we battled with daily, except on the days when her nanny came over so that I could go to work. My little one hasn’t been trusting of strangers since an even younger age, big eyes wary of anyone who came too close and cooed at her. Perhaps my overprotective tendencies played a big role in my daughter being skeptical of those around her, unless they were little girls who liked to play dress-up and organize tea parties in blanket forts.

Life as a single mother hadn’t been easy, but we managed just fine—have been for a while now. My parents lived in the city next to ours, a mere one-hour long drive away, and that also played a role in me learning how to be independent while navigating through motherhood for the first time. I would be lying if I said it was easy and an absolutely lovely journey, but I also would be lying if I said I haven’t been enjoying every single part of it, every little step my beautiful daughter has taken by my side. Without my two best friends, I probably wouldn’t be living as comfortably as I was at the moment, would be probably juggling between jobs, and considering moving back in with my parents. Arin’s father hasn’t been part of our lives since the second he found out I was pregnant, instead, he ran off to work on a cruise ship, throwing in the excuse that he’d be too absent in our lives like that, and instead he’d like to prevent his daughter from growing up wondering when her father would be back. However, due to his stupid choices he ended up making her wonder why she didn’t have a father like all the other children she went to kindergarten with or played at the playground with. Everyone makes mistakes, and mine was trusting my highschool sweetheart, who also happened to be the biggest asshole and player known to mankind.

With the weather changing drastically and the new school year being just around the corner, I tried to take my little one to the playground as often as I could, wanting her to enjoy the little freedom summer break offered us. My job was rather flexible and allowed me to spend a lot of time with my daughter as I more often than not worked from home, only required to step inside the headquarters when there were important meetings and business proposals. Arin had been excited when I told her we’d be going to the playground once again, before it could get dark, with the thought in mind to let her know that I would be sending her to daycare as I have decided to take on a second job as well. We managed just fine, but I wanted her to have more comfort, more toys, more pretty clothes that she could show off whenever she wanted to.

Her dark hair was in two little pigtails, bouncing on the top of her head with every step she took. The purple jeans she chose to wear didn’t match with the rest of her outfit, but I couldn’t care less when I saw the happy look on her face as we walked over to the mirror. Her blouse was a simple beige colour and had all sorts of different coloured flowers decorating it, her red socks peeking out from her white shoes. Thankfully her most favourite playground was in our neighbourhood, just around the block, and she was more than eager to meet her friends today too. I had held her little hand as we walked down the pavement, grinning as she babbled on about whatever cartoon she had been watching earlier, elated to tell her best friend about it too. Stepping inside the gated playground, I was quickly forgotten as she rushed over to her friends, not paying mind to my request of always staying within my sight. I had walked over to an empty bench and sat down, watching my daughter play around with other children with a smile on my face.

At times, I wondered what life would be like without her. Whether I would have stayed here or moved to another country, whether I would have signed up for another college or remained with the diploma I have right now. Whether I would have chosen a career that was more active and sociable than the one I had now, secluded and homebound. Whether I would have found a man that actually cherishes me and my child, whether he would have gotten married to me first and wouldn’t have run away, leaving a pregnant woman alone to fend for herself and their baby. But it was better without my ex, he would have been a horrible father, and I’d rather my little Arin not have a father figure while growing up than have one that is horrible and makes her hate all men.

It didn’t take long for the other mothers to approach me, wide smiles on their faces as they were happy to see me, happy that Arin was here to play with their children. Most of them were stay at home mothers until their children grew past the point of constantly needing attention and help, and they were rather friendly, understanding, and quite helpful if I needed guidance or a little bit of help. Doyoung’s mother was the friendliest out of them all, she never failed to make my day better and she always brought cookies for the two of us to snack on while our kids played around in the sand. But today she wasn’t here, and that meant I had to face Jake’s mother on my own, a woman that was far from being nice, and never failed to find ways to belittle me for being a single mother. She never said it, but I knew she thought I was a whore; I could see it in her eyes whenever she grinned that fake grin of hers.

“Ah, the weather is so lovely today.” And to my luck, it had been her who approached me first, the other mothers slowly coming up to us, greeting us with smiles and little waves. I paid her no mind, instead looked for my little girl, finding her on the swings as Nakyoung gently pushed her, making Arin giggle loudly.

“Is this real snake skin?!” A mother, one that was rather shallow, exclaimed as she grabbed for Jake mother’s purse, mouth having fallen open.

“Of course, it is,” Jake’s mother chuckled, looking over her sunglasses, “I don’t wear fakies.”

I tried to keep my eyeroll minimal as Jake’s mother threw a fleeting look my way, never failing to flaunt her wealth and the fact that I owned one fake Louis Vuitton bag. Sue me, the design was elegant, and I wasn’t about to leave it at the thrift store just because it was a fake one.

“It must be nice to have a rich husband.” Emma’s mother sighed dreamily, her lipstick a little smudged, but nobody pointed it out to her.

“It is rather comfortable,” Jake’s mother giggled, pushing her lavish curls behind her shoulders, “saves you from a lot of house chores and work I’d rather not do.”

“How are you today?” I felt a soft nudge against my knee, and I turned my head to face Mingyu’s mother, a woman who was beautiful beyond her years, well-mannered, wise, and very sweet. I liked her just as much as I liked Doyoung’s mother, sometimes the three of us would grab some coffee if our schedules aligned.

“Just fine, and you?” I asked, our voices hushed as we tuned out the other mothers’ conversation, not curious of whatever boasting Jake’s mother was on about. She couldn’t tell us anything new, she always repeated the same old stories, changing a few details here and there, thinking we wouldn’t notice.

“Mingyu’s been restless today,” His mother sighed, pursing her lips, “the more he grows, the harder it is to make him sit still.”

“Arin is energetic too.” I chuckled, watching Mingyu’s mother with an understanding look, “And she loves throwing tantrums if things don’t go her way.”

“Ah, of course.” Mingyu’s mother chuckled, shaking her head, “Maybe our little ones learnt it from each other, because Mingyu’s been doing them more frequently too.”

“Certainly, they must be conspiring—”

“Arin and Mingyu’s mothers,” Jake’s mother raised her voice, lips pulled into a fake grin, “are you leaving out others from your conversation now? Isn’t that rude?”

The other mothers chuckled, rather awkwardly, but Mingyu’s mother remained calm as she raised her eyebrows at Jake’s mother, “I don’t think having a private conversation with someone is considered rude despite sitting in a group.”

With a snort, I added, “Especially if only one person is talking in that group, that feels ruder to me…”

The other mothers, besides Mingyu’s, looked around awkwardly, some clearing their throats as the others tried to play it off as funny as they chuckled. Jake’s mother’s lips formed a tight line as she cleared her throat, gripping her authentic snake skin purse like anyone would want to steal it from her.

“I was merely sharing how much my lovely husband loves me.” Jake’s mother chuckled, voice dripping with honey as she blinked innocently, “You know, he’s always eager to please me, and, frankly, if a snake skin purse is what makes me happy as I have to stay at home and raise our child, he’ll get it for me without a fuss. What has your husband given you—”

Her insult wasn’t new, nor impressive, as I blinked at her, lips slowly pulling into a small smile. Mingyu’s mother scoffed next to me, and the other mothers’ looked rather uncomfortable due to the atmosphere Jake’s mother had created now. Really, if the woman wanted to hurt me, she’d have to get a lot more creative with her stupid back-handed insults.

“You know,” My voice was levelled, calm, “if I want to make myself happy, I buy that damn snake skin purse myself. I don’t need a husband who forces me to stay at home, stealing away my freedom, while he goes out and cheats on me as much as he’d like, knowing that when he returns, I’ll be waiting for him with warm dinner on the table and open legs.”

Well, that pretty much shut up the other mothers as Jake’s gasped, looking more than appalled by what I dared say to her face. I wasn’t insinuating anything, but knowing her, she definitely made it about herself in her pea sized brain, gaping like a fish as I rolled my eyes at her and turned my head to face Mingyu’s mother. She had her hand in front of her mouth, trying to muffle her giggles. A young child screamed all of a sudden, alerting us mothers as our heads whipped in the direction of the screams.

“Dear!” Kyuhyun’s mother exclaimed, running over to her child as he was clutching his little knee with tears streaming down his face. Realizing that I haven’t been checking on my little Arin, I let my eyes survey the playground, quickly coming to the alarming realization that she wasn’t anywhere. Heart suddenly racing in my chest, I jumped up to my feet and whipped my head around, alerting Mingyu’s mother.

“What’s wrong?”

“I can’t see Arin!” My voice sounded breathless as I left my belongings on the bench, taking off in a jog towards the sand. Mingyu was by himself, building a sand tower as he glanced up at me, his little canines showing as he grinned.

“A tower!” He pointed at his sculpture, but I couldn’t focus on that right now.

“Have you seen Arin?” I asked panicked, feelings my hands shake as I tried to fight the impeding panic that threatened to overtake my rational thoughts. I had to stay level-headed if I wanted to find my little girl.

“She went there, I think.” Mingyu pointed behind the big slides, that part of the playground rather obscured as it was covered with large bushes and overgrown grass. Thanking him quickly, I took off towards where the little boy had pointed, lump in my throat and heart in my chest racing wildly as I realized the gate was open and my little girl was talking to a man, giggling and letting him pat her head.

“Arin!” My voice sounded as panicked as I felt on the inside, it was loud and stern, alerting my daughter and the man she stood with. My feet carried me over in no time and I scooped her up in my arms, hugging her tightly, uncaring that she was getting heavier and I couldn’t carry her as much as I would’ve liked to, “Arin.”

I whispered against her hair, kissing her cheek as she giggled, hugging me around the neck as I finally turned my head, glaring at the stranger. But it took me by surprise how well-dressed and handsome he was, standing tall with his hands behind his back, shoulders pulled back, expression blank. The right side of his long black hair was slicked back, the left strands falling into his eye, slightly obscuring it from view. Despite the roundness of them, his eyes were sharp and fierce, it made my heart race once again as I couldn’t read his expression, scared of what he wanted. His nose was tall and his lips plush and plump, skin perfect and sun-kissed, “What the hell are you doing talking to my daughter?!”

My eyes swiftly checked him out again, taking in the expensive looking outfit he wore. His pants were of leather and hugged his long legs elegantly, obscuring the high heeled boots he was wearing. Despite the heat, he wore a black turtleneck with a white shirt and vest over it, all tucked inside his leather pants, with a black coat draped over his shoulders. His necktie was loose, but not to the point it would make his outfit look unkept. For a second, I wondered how he managed it with all the layers of clothing if I was sweating in a simple tee and ruffled midi-skirt.

“I’m afraid you misunderstood my intentions, Miss.” The man’s voice was deep, yet pleasant, taking me off guard by how calm and reassuring it sounded. It didn’t match his face nor outlook, “I was passing by, on my way to my car, when I saw her stumble past the unlocked gate. Worried that she was lost or would run into bad people, I decided to stop and ask her if she was here alone or with someone, with the intention of walking her back to you.”

I gulped as Arin nuzzled against my neck, peeking at the stranger with a shy giggle, “He’s handsome!”

“Arin.” I muttered, and threw her an unimpressed look, “Is it true what the man is saying?”

“Yes!” Arin exclaimed, suddenly pulling away from my neck as she grinned widely at the man. I’ve never seen her act like that towards strangers before, my eyebrows raised in surprise as I watched her make grabby hands at him, “You promised you’d carry me.”

The man’s chuckle was deep as Arin started pouting, making me feel embarrassed slightly, “Arin, you can’t ask people to just carry you around, especially not strangers—”

“But he’s not—” Her eyebrows furrowed as she struggled for a second, “stranger, he’s Seong—hwa?”

The man chuckled and fixed his coat as his hands slipped inside the pockets of his leather pants, “Seonghwa, yes. I promised to carry you to your mommy, but she’s here now, so I don’t have to do that anymore.”

“But—” Arin pouted, crossing her arms in front of her chest as she gave me puppy eyes, “can’t he be my daddy?”

“Arin.” I hissed mortified, cheeks flushing as the stranger raised an eyebrow, looking rather elegant as he did so, “I told you, you can’t ask random men to be your father—I’m sorry.”

I faced the stranger—Seonghwa—and bowed my head as Arin whined, kicking her legs and my ribs subsequently. I grimaced and went to chastise her, but to my surprise, the stranger stepped closer, eyes narrowed, but not maliciously.

“You’re hurting your mother, stop kicking.” The authority in his voice made both Arin and I pause as we both gazed at him with wide eyes, “You should thank her instead for coming to find you, and don’t wander off again, there’s a lot of bad people in the world.”

“Is that true?” Arin whispered, her round eyes falling on me as her lower lip jutted out. I sighed and nodded, facing the man again.

“Thank you, really, and I’m sorry for the inconvenience.” I bowed my head again, then placed Arin onto the ground, taking her hand into mine.

“Be more careful next time, you never know who you come across.” There was an almost dangerous lull to his tone, eyes slightly narrowing before he bowed his head and took off, probably towards his car. I gulped, the lump finally gone from my throat as I watched Seonghwa disappear around the corner, not a speck of dust on his expensive clothes. Then, I felt Arin squeeze my arm and sniff, making me look down at her to find her crying.

“Arin, what’s wrong?” I asked worried, feeling panicked again as all sorts of scenarios ran through my mind. Maybe Seonghwa did something to her and she was scared to say it in front of him.

“Seong—hwa promised to buy me cotton candy once we found you.” Tears rolled down my little one’s cheeks, making me chuckle as I crouched down to be eye level with her, “And he said he’d buy you coffee too.”

“He said that?” I asked surprised, wiping her tears away.

“Yes, he said he likes your skirt.” My eyebrows furrowed as I pressed a reassuring kiss against her chubby and rosy cheek.

“Does he now?” I muttered to myself as I stood up again, and tried to shake off the unease as I guided us back inside the playground. This was a weird interaction and it’s left me feeling uneasy and hopeful that something like this wouldn’t happen again.

            Days, weeks, passed by and it seemed like the stranger from the playground was everywhere now. Park Seonghwa, he had said his name was on a random Saturday afternoon, when we bumped into each other at a rather small flower shop, ten minutes away from my neighbourhood. I hadn’t been looking where I was going as I was busy multitasking—as in opening the shop’s door while typing away on my phone to the nanny that I would be home in fifteen minutes—and thus, the second I was out the door I had collided against a hard chest. The apology died down in my throat upon seeing the familiar face, heart racing out of unease rather than excitement. But Seonghwa had been nice, helped me pick up the bouquet I had dropped, and then offered to drive me home as the wind had picked up, dark storm clouds promising a downpour that would come rather soon. But, as I had taught my little Arin to not trust strangers, I didn’t trust this man either, and politely declined his offer. He didn’t seem weird nor made me feel uncomfortable, but I was wary of him. After all, the way we met was more suspicious than not.

The next time we ran into each other was barely a few days after the encounter at the flower shop, when I was out early in the morning, picking up fresh bread and some chocolate croissants that Arin loves a lot. My best friends had slept over the night prior, and so, it was safe for me to leave the apartment on my own, the two would watch over Arin if she were to wake up earlier than expected. The bakery had an adjacent coffee shop as well, and while I waited for my coffee order, I had stepped into line to order the delicacies, unassuming of the round eyes watching me from a table placed by the entrance. I was engrossed in reading through my emails as it was finally my turn in line, but the barista called my name to get my coffee right as I had placed my order for the pastries, and I had no choice but to step aside and quickly fetch my coffee. However, when I made it back to the cashier, the delicacies and my coffee have been paid for. When I asked how, the cashier just giggled about a tall and handsome man, dressed in an expensive suit, having paid for my purchases before he hurried outside. I had swiftly turned around, eyes wide as I caught a quick glimpse of Seonghwa sitting inside a very expensive looking Mercedes Benz parked across the street. My heart had started racing, but not out of unease anymore, but out of curiosity and wonder.

Then the next week had arrived, and Arin and I were at a playhouse when suddenly Seonghwa was sat at our table, smiling widely as he offered an unopened bag of marshmallows to Arin. I couldn’t help but gape at him, wondering whether it was coincidence that he had Arin’s favourite snack at hand. He apologized for having sat at our table uninvited, but he said his niece worked at the playhouse, and upon seeing us he wanted to greet us. Arin was beyond enthralled and begged Seonghwa to stay with us, managing to convince the both of us as we gave in at the end, keen to entertain my young daughter. It was rather heartwarming seeing Seonghwa so eager to play with Arin as they both made their way to the trampolines, Seonghwa looking out of place in his fancy leather outfit. Upon finishing my orange juice, I joined the two and was rather surprised to find myself enjoying Seonghwa’s company. Despite his fierce looks, he was a gentle man with a kind heart, happily playing with Arin, and letting her drag him around while he tried to make conversation with me as well. When I had put Arin to bed, she asked whether we could invite Seonghwa over to our house for a yummy meal.

Not much to my surprise anymore, a day later, Seonghwa and I crossed paths at the convenience store, and I decided to stop being so uptight and stirred up a conversation with him, inquiring of his sudden appearances wherever I went. He said he had recently moved into the neighbourhood, hence why we were crossing paths more often, and he had always liked making new friends, so he was rather eager to get to know me, if I also wanted that. I still didn’t fully trust him—he was still a stranger after all—but I decided to agree to hanging out in the weekend, of going someplace silent and relaxing. Arin could stay with the nanny this time; I didn’t want to involve her just yet knowing she liked Seonghwa rather a lot.

It had been a day before the agreed upon hangout, when I was walking home from a meeting that got drawn out due to a business partner showing up unannounced. Thankfully one of my friend’s was free for the night and went over to my house to help out as the nanny couldn’t stay for the evening as well, stressing me out even more. The sky was dark and the air chilly as I had gotten off the bus. I hadn’t driven to my workplace because I thought the meeting wouldn’t be more than two hours, meaning that it would’ve been still light outside when I had to return home. But that was hours ago, and now I just barely managed to catch the last bus, eager to get home and bury myself under the warm blankets, cuddled up next to Arin and my friend, probably having to watch Arin’s favourite Barbie movie again.

The neighbourhood was quiet as my heels clicked loudly, my pace quickening as I could feel a blister form right underneath my big toe, making me hiss out in pain as I stepped rather wonkily on it. My wrists had started aching from how many notes I had taken, and the satchel bag that hung over my shoulder was heavier than usual due to my laptop being inside it. I passed the convenience store just as the old lady was closing up, and we briefly greeted each other as I sighed loudly, my apartment just three blocks away now, right around the corner. The streets were quiet and a few lampposts were faulty as they flickered, then completely went out, making me shiver as it reminded me of horror movie scenes. My breaths were laboured and my gut feeling told me to just hurry up, so ignoring the ache of my foot due to the blister, I started walking faster, my heels clicking harder against the concrete. Much to my alarm, I could hear hurried footsteps behind myself, almost as if they were trying to catch up to me. My heart had started racing as I gripped my satchel bag tightly, ready to swing it at whoever if they tried to come at me.

I heard a hiss behind and I decided to look back, eyes widening instantly when they fell on a masked man, who had started running at me now. I shrieked and took off, the heels not being an obstacle as I made my way down the street, clutching my bag tightly as it tried to swing around my body. Nothing could’ve stopped me as I ran for my life, chest heaving as I tried not to slow down, the apartment complex I lived in barely a block away now. But the masked man was catching up and I knew I couldn’t outrun him, so I tried to quickly think of an escape route where I could hideout and phone the police. My heart was pumping fast and my lips had started trembling as my body and mind were filled with adrenaline, fuelling my senses to push harder as I made a sharp turn to the left. The alleyway was dark, I hadn’t been here before, and my blood ran cold when I realized the dire mistake I have made. It was a dead-end alleyway, a wired tall fence separating it from the next passage. I was trapped in as I whirled around, eyes wide as they fell on the masked man blocking my only exit. He cackled, suddenly something sharp and glinting appearing in his hands. It was a knife. My body had started trembling as I tried to come up with a plan, hand him over whatever he asked for, but before I could open my mouth to plead for my life, the man stopped abruptly, then heavily fell over, hitting the ground with a loud thud.

I gasped as I watched him frozen, confused and scared of what has happened. Looking around, I couldn’t see anyone, and so, reluctantly I made my way towards the masked man. But when I finally reached him, my eyes widened in horror at the blatant bullet hole in the back of his head, blood oozing out of it onto the pavement, flowing towards the soles of my high heels. I whimpered as I walked around the dead body, eyes fixated on it as if it would revive him, when I crashed into a hard chest. I gasped and opened my mouth to shriek, to call for help, but instead it got muffled by a leather gloved hand, my body getting pushed against the side of one of the buildings the alleyway was encompassed between. My body trembled as I looked up, eyes getting even wider, if possible, as I recognized the familiar face.

“Seo-Seonghwa?” I whispered, eyes falling back onto the dead man before they snapped back to Seonghwa, “What—what is—”

“Shh,” He whispered, pushing the hair out of my eyes as he gently caressed my cheek with his gloved hand, “You’re safe now, nothing’s happened.”

“But—” I had to gulp hard, heart hammering against my ribcage as Seonghwa’s round eyes were the softest I’ve ever seen them be, lips pulled into an almost motherly smile. He was calm, way too calm, as if he was used to this, “But the man’s dead, I—”

“He shouldn’t have tried to rob a woman.” Seonghwa’s sharp words cut me off, his grip slipping towards my chin as he grabbed me firmly, pulling my head closer to his, “He was a dangerous person, I couldn’t let him hurt you.”

Upon hearing his words I shuddered, eyes reluctantly traveling lower on his body, stopping on the black gun he held in his free hand, making me gasp, “Seonghwa, who are you—”

“I can keep you safe.” He cut me off once again, tilting my head back by my chin, our gazes meeting, “You and Arin, I can keep the both of you safe, never to worry about anything again. I can give you luxuries, vacations, anything the two of you want. Good schools, high education for Arin, whatever she’ll want in the future. I’ll give you all of that in exchange for a little something.”

I gulped, throat dry as my heart hammered against my ribcage furiously, my skin cold from the chilly air but from the lack of the adrenaline too, “What?”

My voice sounded small and afraid, but Seonghwa just smiled gently again, closing his eyes as he inhaled slowly, “Move in with me.”

“Wha-what?!” I yelped, trying to yank my head out of Seonghwa’s grip, but he held me firmly. Suddenly, he started leaning closer, making me shrink back as I was afraid he’d point the gun at me if I didn’t do what he asked of me.

“I’ve grown fond of you and Arin; I want to keep you safe.” Seonghwa explained, making my mind a jumbled mess of questions, confusion, and fright, “Did you know the father of your child has hired a detective to follow you two around? He wants to take Arin away.”

“What?!” I screwed my eyes tightly shut, head thumping from Seonghwa’s confusing words, he wasn’t making sense, “He hasn’t even been in her life, why now?”

“For money, of course.” Seonghwa sighed, tone growing colder, and I opened my eyes to find him sneering at the wall behind me, “He’s not a good man, Arin can’t fall into his hands—”

“And she won’t!” I exclaimed, gripping the collar of his leather jacket rather desperately, “How do you know all of this?!”

“I’m Park Seonghwa,” Seonghwa answered with a humoured chuckled, gripping my wrists as he removed my grip gently from his collar, “son of the chairman of Park Enterprises. You do know my family owns every nightclub in the high end of the city, right?”

I nodded, shocked to find out he was the son of the powerful Park Senior. I gulped, suddenly mulling over his words, wondering how much of it was true, “And?”

“Underground activities are much more fun than the legal ones, Y/N.” Seonghwa chuckled, bopping my nose with a gloved finger, making me flinch back, “I’m just saying…I’m the most powerful man in probably the whole country, are you sure you want to miss out on this proposal?”

“I don’t trust you.”

“You’ll trust me soon enough.” He grinned, a little wicked and devilishly handsome, then leaned down and pressed a kiss against my cheek, leaving me stunned. I averted my eyes when his gaze fell on me, and accidentally looked at the dead man. Something coiled in my stomach and I had to gulp down the bile in my throat, fighting against the nausea that warned me that I would throw up as my body started shaking again, “Don’t look at him.”

Appearing in my sight, Seonghwa gently turned my head away and smiled softly again, “Deal? For Arin?”

I gulped, realizing I was crazy for what I was about to say, “Deal, for Arin.”

Seonghwa grinned and then threw his arm around my shoulder, turning me away from the dead man as he led us back onto the main street, at least eight masked men hurrying out of a black van and inside the alleyway. Seonghwa didn’t let me look back as he clicked his tongue and ushered me towards his Mercedes Benz. I steeled my nerves and reluctantly sat inside, fidgeting in the leather seat.

“I still expect us to go on that date tomorrow.” Seonghwa said once buckled up.

“Date?” My eyebrows furrowed as I looked at him, the engine purring to life loudly.

“Did you really think it was just a casual hangout?”

“Yes.”

Seonghwa chuckled and then faced ahead, pressing play on the radio, “Have you ever been to Paris, my dear?”

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[crookedteethed]

⋆ ★ Rafe says “he's done” with mistress reader

18+ smut(pinv), oral (male receiving), cursing, infidelity, toxic relationship, "su*cide attempt", mentions of daddy issues, reader is delusional asf in this one , no happy ending, age gap between Rafe and reader

It had been bad this time; it had been fatal. 

Rafe had said it was over; this time, he meant it. 

He said things were going well with his wife, and he didn't want you to ruin it this time. These were his exact words.

He was too old now to be chasing young girls' pussy around like he was still in his twenties. His exact words. 

He was too old, and you were just young girl pussy. 

In your final moments with him, you asked him if his wife knew how to stuff him whole inside of her mouth without gagging like you do. 

He said that wasn't the point. On their wedding day, he made a vow to his wife whether she knew how to stuff him whole or not.

"Dilation of the throat." You said. "That's when your throat slowly starts to close; you can hardly get any food down your esophagus, let alone air. It happens as you get older. Rafe, I hate to tell you, but your wife is dying."

Rafe had called you childish,He kissed your tear-soaked eyelid, then left your studio apartment--in which he helped you pay for.

Then that was it.

He was gone as quick as it all happened.

The first week without Rafe hadn't been that bad.

You cried some, binged watched cable TV, and then sat numbly on your sofa, wishing Rafe was there to coddle you like the father figure you always saw him as.  

His warm embrace taut around your body, he'd peck his lips around the supple skin of your face, telling you that everything was going to be ok, and then he'd fuck you, make you forget about whatever you were sad about, and then go back home and sleep in the same bed as his wife, while you were all alone. 

During the second week, you started to feel the emptiness even more acutely, and your stomach and gut became more hollow. 

To cope, you slept with a couple of old flings, guys, and girls that quite naturally never made it past the talking stages because they weren't Rafe. 

In the third week, you realized that Rafe had not blocked your number, so you called him. 

He picked up within the third ring. 

"What." he said sternly. 

"I'm just checking in on your wife, how's her dilated throat? Does her blow jobs feel tighter than usual? If so, her throat will be completely closing soon, meaning she won't have space to breathe. Rafe, your wife doesn't have much time to live ---"

He hung up. 

You called again. 

"I've missed you." You were the first to say. "Come over so we can talk--bring your wife too, maybe we can work this out, just the three of us--"

He hung up again.

Then, because you were drunk, you sent him a picture of your clit with the text message, "She misses you too :(." 

In the fourth week, you figured that there was only one thing you had to do, and that was to kill yourself. 

Of course, you weren't going to commit suicide, but Rafe didn't have to know that. 

On that Saturday afternoon, you knew Rafe would be off of work somewhere laughing with his wart of a wife and his friends and their warts of wives. 

That must have been the reason he didn't answer when you called him, so you sent him a voice message. 

"To whom it may concern, I've decided I no longer want to live. To the left of me, I have a prescribed bottle of Vicodin, of which I plan to take all 27 capsules, and to my right, I have my note. In my note, I have given my lawyers specific instructions to out you and I's rendezvous to your wife. I have a USB with all our text messages and sex tapes on it; I've planned for them to give to her when I die. If you don't want this secret to get out, I'd advise you to be at my apartment complex in one hour fucking my brains out. See you in one hour; tell your wife I said hi."

And then you waited. 

You jumped when you heard Rafe bang on your door three times, and then he'd remember he had a key, then he barged in your apartment, his head swinging from left to right.

He saw you sitting on your sofa with your matching lingerie set on, a bottle of vodka in your hand.

"You do care." You smiled, standing up to give him a hug, he shrugged you off.

"Where is it?" He asked. "Where's that USB?"

"There is no USB." You said.

Rafe had looked down at your coffee table to where your supposeit Vicodin had been.

"That's fucking baby aspirin." He scoffed, as he slowly start to undo his belt buckle. "This is what you were going to kill yourself with?"

You nodded shyly as he grabbed you by your hair and forced you to your knees.

A blowjob was the last thing you wanted from him, but you'd take anything.

Looking down at you, Rafe said, "Maybe next time I'll lend you my old man's revolver, that'll do the trick, right?" right before he grabbed the back of your head, and forced his cock--all nine inches of it--down your throat.

You'd hadn't gagged, though you wished you had, so he could have slowed down his relentless thrust into your mouth.

With every thrust, your body responded, craving more, yet yearning for a pause—an unexpected reprieve.

You could hardly catch your breath as he maintained his relentless pace, a rhythm that sent waves of sensation coursing through you.

You wanted to surrender, yet a part of you fought against the tide, desperate for control in a moment that demanded nothing less than your complete submission.

Rafe eyes never seemed to leave yours with his cock stuffed in your mouth. He loved the humiliation of blowjobs. You just stared at him, teary wide eyes.

Rafe's face was so handsome. His eyes were so beautiful. So full of life. A face that could be so easily broken. Your mouth. So full of his cock.

Fuck, have you missed this.

You could see the desire in his eyes, the hunger for more. His gaze was intense, burning into you, and it excited you to know your power--how quick he came to your rescue.

You felt his hands on the back of your head, not forcing, but guiding, encouraging you to take him deeper. His breath quickened, and you knew he was getting closer with he twitch of his cock. With a soft moan, he pulled you up, his eyes still locked on yours.

He wanted to watch your reaction as he took control, as he showed you who was in charge.

He pushed you against the wall, his mouth finding yours, and you tasted yourself on his lips. It was degrading, and you loved it. He knew it too, and a smirk played on his lips.

"You like being used, don't you?" he whispered, his voice hoarse with desire. "Being on your knees, taking me however I want. It arouses you."

You couldn't deny it, the wetness of your cunt dripping down your thighs.

"Yes," you whispered, your voice a mere breath. "I do." And with that admission, he took you again, this time with you on the edge of the sofa with both your legs pressed to your sides.

You let out a soft moan as Rafe entered you, his cock sliding deep with one slow, deliberate thrust.

That familiar stretch and burn always made you gasp—a sensation you loved and craved. Rafe's hands gripped your hips, his touch firm as he held you in place, his eyes never leaving yours.

You loved how he watched you, taking in your every reaction as if it were the first time all over again--almost as if he was all yours and no one else's to share. 

His thick cock filled you, and you could feel every vein and ridge of him as he slowly began to move. That delicious friction built as he withdrew and then thrust again, setting a slow, sensual rhythm.

The room was filled with the sounds of your passion—your soft moans and the slick, wet sounds of your bodies moving as one.

Rafe's breath quickened as he began to move faster, his hips snapping as he drove into you with purpose. You met his passion with your own, your bodies a tangle of limbs and sweat.

His hands explored your body, caressing your breasts, neck, and face, his touch both possessive and adoring.

As your pleasure built, you knew you would climax soon, and you wanted Rafe to join you in that exquisite release.

You whispered for him to let go, and with a few more powerful thrusts, he obeyed. His body stiffened as he filled you with his release, his cock pulsing as he found his own bliss.

Rafe laid your limp body outstretched onto your sofa, and through hooded--fucked out--eyelids, you watched as he put back on his clothing. 

"I think I love you." you croaked. 

Rafe ironed out his slacks and proceeded to put his foot in one pant leg, all the while saying: 

"I love my wife." He said sternly. 

Defeated, you laid your head back and closed your eyes. 

"This was the last time, Y/N." He said. You could hear him put on his last article of clothing and straighten himself out. 

"You always say that." you sighed. 

"Well, I'm serious this time." 

"You always say that part too." You said.

And with that being said, he placed his lips on your forehead, took your bottle of baby aspirin, and left your apartment for the second "last time" that month. 

Rafe went back home, made love to his wife, and then told her he loved her, but he knew he didn't really mean it. 

[bumblesimagines]

Obsessions and Cruelty

Request: Yes or No

Summary: Despite the love Princess Alyssa and Prince Baelon had for their twins, Prince (Y/N) and Prince Aegon, Daemon never truly forgave (Y/N) for causing the death of their mother; but he'll never genuinely hate him either.

Pronouns: He/Him/His, M!Reader

CW/TW: Typical HOTD warnings, Targcest/Incest (Brother-Brother), mention of childbirth caused death, mentioned death of a sibling (Lil Aegon), toxic behavior?, Daemon stop insulting women challenge (impossible)

~~~

Princess Alyssa and Prince Baelon had been overjoyed when (after a long and excruciatingly painful childbirth) the Mother bestowed them with the gift of twin boys whom they happily named Prince Aegon and Prince (Y/N). Their two older brothers, Viserys and Daemon, welcomed them into the family with ease, making plans of all the things they'd teach the boys.

All had been well, until six months later when Alyssa passed after being unable to fully recover from having the twins, her body too weakened from the hours of pain and blood loss. Tragedy struck again with the weaker of the twins, Prince Aegon, passed just shy of his first nameday, leaving the family in distress and an ocean of grief.

Prince (Y/N) had been born sickly as well, and the boy had hardly cried or fussed when he'd been born; so much so that the midwife and maester present feared he'd been stillborn until Baelon took his boy into his arms and the little one finally kicked off with some wails. His health fluctuated throughout his first few years of life, having its highs when he raced down the hall with his little legs and a flurry of maids following as well as its lows when he could hardly get out of bed. 

While his father deeply grieved the loss of his beloved sister-wife and child, he refused to allow it to push him away from his youngest boy. He ensured to assign (Y/N) a personal maester, one who'd only tend to the boy when asked and would give him all the attention he needed.

Others assumed (Y/N) would pass before becoming man-grown, but the prince proved them all wrong, much to the relief and glee of his father and eldest brother, Viserys. His second eldest brother, Daemon, stewed in his grief and growing resentment. 

Daemon had loved their mother wholeheartedly. Alyssa had been a fierce, determined, daring princess who taught Daemon much of what he knew. He loved her, from her blonde hair to her mismatched eyes to the fact she rode the beautiful Red Queen, Meleys, because she'd been denied of riding Balerion. Alyssa's wild spirit had passed down to her son but she'd been stolen from him before she'd ever get to see him in action.

He despised it, despised how much they coddled him, how much they fretted over a weak little thing. Daemon spent much of his time avoiding the boy, for the sight of him alone reminded him of the night he learned of his mother's passing. Perhaps it was guilt too, that made him ignore his brother, for he also reminded him of the thought that he screamed in his mind during the funeral.

I wish they'd died instead.

Daemon hadn't looked anyone in the eye when little Aegon had been pronounced dead from a harsh fever; an inevitable death, the maester had claimed, for the boy had been weak for months. But Daemon believed the Gods had done it to remind him they were always listening. 

(Y/N) had been around four when Daemon's resentment first spilled over into actions. The younger prince had been left without a playmate after their brother left for training lessons, and (Y/N) had refused to play with the willing maids in favor of stumbling out of his room in his stubby toddler legs to search for his other brother.

When he approached the seven-year-old in his bedchambers, Daemon snatched the wooden toy wolf and snapped its head clean off with the threat of doing the same to the rest of his toys if he ever approached him again. (Y/N), of course, bursted into tears and Daemon awkwardly watched until their father arrived to scoop the little one into his arms and give Daemon a scolding. 

Baelon attempted to get the two to reconcile a few days later with a hug. When Daemon extended his arms out toward (Y/N), the little boy made a face and ran right back to their older brother who immediately gathered him up into his arms. It'd been then that Daemon felt a twinge of bitterness, not at (Y/N) for having Visery's attention but at Viserys for being chosen over him. He forced it away and told himself it was what he wanted. He hated him after all. Or so, it was what he told himself in the years that followed. 

Without fail, the weeks leading up to each of (Y/N)'s namedays seemed to set something off in Daemon and he'd make it his life's mission to bother the boy into tears. The first few years resulted in many wails and scoldings from their father, brother, and eventually even their new sister, Lady Aemma. His life had resulted in the death of the woman Daemon loved most, and he'd never forget it. But, Daemon soon learned everyone, even sickly weaklings, had their limits. 

On (Y/N)'s tenth nameday, Baelon had settled (Y/N) on his knee after the celebration and began recalling stories of Alyssa, starting with the fact she'd always followed him around in their youth like a shadow. (Y/N) had been enthralled, eyes big and wide and head eagerly nodding for more tales of the woman he'd never get to meet. Grief made Daemon's chest constrict, and without thinking, he'd blurted out: "There'd be more stories if you and Aegon hadn't killed her." 

The room had fallen deathly silent afterward, only family members lingering around who all turned to stare at the boy wide-eyed. His grandparents and father seemed on the verge of lecturing him when (Y/N) slipped off Baelon's knees, walked right up to the spot on the floor Daemon was sitting on, and landed one good punch to his nose that left a heavy flow of blood. Some in the room laughed, others shook their heads but Viserys had ensured to swoop in and separate the two until the maesters arrived. 

And while Daemon had a maester tend to his bleeding nose (luckily dismissing the possibility of it being broken), (Y/N) sent him a triumphant grin from across the room that made Daemon seethe. Still, he couldn't deny the hint of pride that swelled in him, as well as a new bubbling feeling. 

From then on, fighting and bickering were the only thing the boys seemed to do together, mostly because picking on (Y/N) was the only way to get him to pay Daemon any sort of attention. His accusation had been enough to permanently cement him as the enemy, even with all the coaxings and reminders of blood being thicker than water. He leaned into it, even if it meant having to sit back and grumpily watch (Y/N) happily cozy up to Viserys and sometimes even Lady Aemma. 

The Gods had cursed him for wishing the Stranger on (Y/N), he was certain of it. Why else would he care so much?

By the time the two were in their teens, Queen Alysanne had wed Daemon to Lady Rhea Royce of Runestone. He'd been sent off to live with her in the Vale, perhaps the most boring place in Westeros and annoyingly far from home. When he'd returned home for a visit, he'd learned from Viserys that the soon-to-be seventeen-year-old (Y/N) had many marriage prospects. Daemon had hoped to find himself thrilled at the idea of (Y/N) moving far away to become the new lord of some noble house but it only soured his mood whenever someone brought it up.

"I hear Lady Lusia is quite beautiful." Lady Aemma told (Y/N) one afternoon, a cup of sweetened milk in hand and a gentle smile on her face. Daemon scoffed quietly at her words, a bitter taste forming in his mouth that made him angrily swallow the piece of apple he'd been chewing. Lady Aemma seemingly ignored him. "I hear she has a fascination for dragons. I'm certain she'll love Sōna." 

"Or Sōna will eat her in a single bite the moment she lays eyes on her." Daemon piped in, pushing himself up from the couch he'd sprawled himself across and smirking at the eye-roll (Y/N) sent his way. Truthfully, Sōna was exactly like her rider in more ways than one: spoilt, easily annoyed, and downright bratty at times. The pretty beast had certain food preferences, for Gods' sake. Lady Aemma merely shook her head and sipped on her drink whilst Viserys finally tore his attention away from the book in hand. 

"Perhaps you have someone in mind then, Brother. You seemed against Lady Katherine and Lady Breyna as well." Viserys's finger dragged along the edge of the book, an amused twinkle in his eyes as he regarded his brother in a way that seemed to say I know. Daemon scowled at him, unable to resist the heat creeping up along his neck. 

"I'm saving those ladies from a lifetime of misery, more like. (Y/N) would probably drop dead if he saw a woman naked." 

At that, (Y/N) whirled around to look at him with a sneer. "It wouldn't be my first time!" He snapped at him, and irritation rolled over Daemon like a crashing wave. He'd been gone from court for a little less than a year and had already missed so much. His new wife's family had insisted he stay in Runestone with her despite her indifference, but he hardly cared for her or the Vale of Arryn. She was plain-faced, boring, and never bothered to converse with him. He much preferred the bustle and hustle of the Red Keep.

But nobody mentioning his little brother had bedded someone while he was away? It shouldn't have annoyed him as much as it did but the thought of some lousy little lady - or anyone, truly - laying hands on his brother in a less-than-friendly way made his blood boil. Had she even done it right? Had she even kissed him with passion or just with the desire to boast about lying with a Targaryen prince? 

"Who?" Daemon demanded, springing up to his feet and chucking the apple aside so hard it slammed into the wall and broke apart. Lady Aemma flinched at the noise and gave her husband a bewildered look that was met with a quiet sigh. Daemon's long silver hair spilled over his shoulders as he grasped the back of (Y/N)'s chair and leaned down to glower at him. "What dumb bitch decided you were worth laying with?" 

(Y/N) bristled like an enraged stray cat and shot up from his seat, planting his hands on Daemon's chest and shoving him back. Daemon stumbled backward, nearly tripping over his boots, and scowling immediately but before he could cut the distance, Viserys planted himself firmly between the two. At twenty-four, Viserys had no business being forced to stop fights between the two, but he believed it to be his job as eldest much to their annoyance. Daemon opened his mouth to spout some more things but he bit his tongue when he noticed the way (Y/N)'s eyes glistened. 

"Nyke vēdros ao." (Y/N) spat venomously, and Daemon's shoulders sagged, his body reeling back as if he'd been struck. (Y/N) stormed past the two of them, the doors shaking violently when he slammed them close behind him. Lady Aemma frowned at him, shaking her head with a soft sigh of disappointment. 

I hate you. 

He'd meant it, Daemon was sure of it. He'd been a bother since (Y/N) had been born, just a baby prone to illness who had no memories of their beautiful mother. The birth had impacted Alyssa severely, sure, but the twins had never asked to be born. Daemon had realized that early in his teenhood, but most of the damage had been done and he'd never been one to apologize or admit wrongdoing, to begin with. But as he stood there, staring into nothingness while the words replayed over and over in his head, he swore he felt his heart cracking. 

"Go apologize," Viserys told him softly, placing a hand on his shoulder and giving it an encouraging squeeze. "Make things right before it's too late. Father intends on having him wed before the winter."

Silently, Daemon turned on his heel and left the couple alone in their room to make his way down the hall. He'd upset (Y/N) enough to make him cry, something he hadn't done in years, so he felt certain the teen had rushed off to his bedroom before he could be seen. The servants and guards he encountered along the way were quick to step out of his way, and the ones stationed at (Y/N)'s bedchambers opened the doors for him without having to be asked. 

(Y/N) sat at the edge of his bed, legs crossed and lips pouting like a child but Daemon could only wince at the tear stains on his cheeks. His hands messed with his boots, undoing the laces of one and throwing it onto the floor. When he spotted Daemon lingering by the doors, he threw the other one at him, nearly hitting him in the thigh. "Go away," He demanded. 

"Your aim's better." Daemon simply told him, slipping off the holster holding Dark Sister to his waist, and leaning the sword against the wall. (Y/N) reached down for the boot he'd tossed on the floor, scooping it back into his hand and throwing it at Daemon. His brother caught it with ease before it could slam into his chest, causing (Y/N)'s cheeks to puff out in annoyance and Daemon to smirk.

"Come to laugh at me some more?" (Y/N) asked bitterly, his eyes following Daemon as he made his way further into the room. With nothing else within grabbing distance to throw, he remained seated on the bed with a glare and curled hands ready to hit him. Daemon eyed his tense form and took a seat beside him, scoffing when (Y/N) scooted away.

"You act like a child." Daemon sighed, snatching (Y/N)'s wrist into his hand and squeezing the skin exposed when his sleeve rode up. (Y/N) struggled at first, angered muttering falling from his lips, but he slowly relented and gave in with a heavy sigh. Daemon gave him a hard tug that forced (Y/N) to fall onto his side, a grin gracing his lips at (Y/N)'s narrowed eyes. 

"And you act like an arse." He replied, shifting around to sit up straight again. 

"I didn't..." Daemon pursed his lips. Viserys knew how to apologise, knew all the right things to say to make things better. Daemon only knew how to hurt and break things. "I didn't mean to-... to make you cry." 

"Liar." (Y/N) huffed and Daemon's jaw clenched, his temper flaring up with ease. "You like seeing me cry. You probably get off on it." 

Daemon bit his tongue, this time literally, so he could fight the wicked smirk from spreading on his face. "Yes," Daemon exhaled, the breathy, amused tone making (Y/N) grow still with suspicion. "I get off on the thought of you crying from how much you desire me." He said lowly, moving an inch closer so their noses would bump together. He relished the quiet hitch of (Y/N)'s breath.

"I- I- You- I would never- What-" (Y/N) sputtered, tongue twisting so violently he almost choked on his words. Daemon's free hand rose to grab his jaws, fingers digging into the heated skin of his cheeks. He delighted in the heat, for he believed it meant there was a chance of his feelings being mutual. 

"Who did you lay with?" Daemon questioned, his fingertips digging into the skin of (Y/N)'s cheeks and pulling his face ever so closer. He dragged his lips over his cheekbones, trailing them over his little brother's nose and brows and any part of his face he could reach. (Y/N) squirmed in his grip, his closed hand pressing against Daemon's chest in a half-hearted attempt at pushing him back. "Tell me."

"No." (Y/N) grumbled, ever the disobedient one. 

"Was she worth it?" Daemon prodded, pushing his brother back onto the bed until his back was flat against the covers. He swung one leg over (Y/N)'s hips to straddle him, laying his weight down on the prince's thighs to prevent him from getting up. (Y/N) glared up at him, lips forming a deeper, more pronounced pout. He pinned the wrist in his hand beside his head, ensuring to keep a steady grip on him. 

"Better than you'll ever be!" (Y/N) spat, the challenging tone in his voice only making Daemon's desire flourish, the overwhelming feeling pumping through his veins. He swooped down and slammed their lips together, swallowing the squeak that escaped (Y/N) and shoveling his tongue into his mouth when (Y/N)'s lips parted. He suckled his bottom lip into his mouth, biting down on it until he tasted a hint of metallic. 

"You should've come to me, sweet brother." Daemon sighed, tongue lapping up the small trickle of blood that stained both their lips red. (Y/N)'s fingers curled around the collar of Daemon's tunic, battling between pushing him back and drawing him closer. "You need not for anyone else. I will take care of you, regardless of what anyone else dares to say." He cooed, pressing a sloppy, bloody kiss to his cheek. 

"You hate me." (Y/N) murmured, his nose crinkling at the taste of blood dancing on his taste buds. Daemon frowned at him, hands harshly squeezing (Y/N)'s jaw and wrist for his words. When (Y/N) grimaced, he released his jaw and instead tenderly stroked his knuckles over his cheek. 

"I do not." He assured, nuzzling their nose together and kissing him again, savoring the shudder that went through (Y/N) when he pressed down on the small cut. "I care for you. More than you'll ever know, little brother."

[parkerslatte]

Blanket Fort

Azriel x Fem!Reader

Word Count: 1.7k

Warnings: none.

Summary: Y/N returns home from a long day of helping Feyre at the studio and her heart melts from what she finds.

A Court of Thorns and Roses Masterlist

•••

The moment Y/N entered her house, hushed whispers were heard coming from the living room. After a long day working at the studio with Feyre, all Y/N wanted to do was curl up and go to sleep. She kicked off her shoes and entered the living room and immediately paused when she took notice of the mess of it.

Instead of the usual furniture set by the fireplace, it was pushed to the corners of the room in favour of the large blanket fort in the centre of the room. The hushed whispers were of course coming from inside. Despite the tiredness in her body, Y/N smiled.

“Daddy, is Mummy going to come in?” the voice of her six year old son whispered. Or in his case, just spoke aloud.

“Get her!” Her three year old daughter giggled.

“Alright, I’ll get her,” the voice of her husband said.

Y/N leaned against the doorway and watched how Azriel emerged from the blanket fort. With his wings it was a miracle he managed to fit inside. As soon as Y/N made eye contact with him, she simply fell in love with him all over again. His hair was a mess and stuck up in all directions and his eyes were sleepy. His shirt hung loosely on his body and was the one he would never be cause dead in outside the comfort of his home.

“Hey, honey,” Azriel whispered and pulled her body against his, resting his arms around her waist.

“Hey,” Y/N replied and lazily rested her arms over his shoulders. “So what is this all about?”

Azriel smiled. “Oh this? Just a little construction work. Robin has been bossing me and his sister around all day. Odessa has just been happy to help out her big brother.”

Y/N smiled and wished that she had been with her family. Y/N remembered when she first told Azriel she was pregnant with Robin, he had been over the moon. He had been protective before the pregnancy but during it, Y/N couldn’t even go to the kitchen without him trailing behind her. Y/N needed to beg Cassian and Rhys to take him out for a few days to give her a well needed break of the coddling.

After Robin was born, Azriel had a hard time bonding with him. Azriel blamed it on Robin constantly needing her but Y/N knew that it wasn’t the case. Y/N knew that Azriel didn’t see himself fit to be a father. He had never voiced these thoughts to Y/N but she could tell just from looking in his eyes. Azriel only held Robin when Y/N passed him to him. He would only interact with him when Robin crawled over to him. It was as if Azriel was afraid of tainting his son just from being around him.

It wasn’t until Y/N went on an overnight trip with Feyre that everything sorted itself out. When she returned that morning, Y/N expected Robin to be asleep in his crib but what she found was even more precious. Robin was fast asleep on Azriel’s chest and Azriel himself was asleep too, a protective hand on Robin’s back. Y/N had asked Feyre to paint the image which now proudly hung in their living room, a matching one of Azriel and Odessa next to it

After that night, Robin would always follow Azriel around. He had become one of his shadows. Robin tried to imitate Azriel. The way he stood, the way he walked. Even facial expressions. Despite Robin being born without wings, he always demanded Azriel to take him flying and pretend that he was flying himself. Robin idolised his father, it was as simple as that.

When Odessa was born, Azriel didn’t ever pull away from her. And of course, like Robin, Odessa would always follow her father around. And due to Odessa’s small wings poking from her back, she would always plead for Azriel to teach her how to fly, despite the lack of strength in her wings that could not support her weight yet.

Y/N never minded that her children always wanted Azriel. Of course they would always want her too, but Y/N knew that Azriel always needed to be reminded by his children how loved he really was. There were still some days where Azriel believed that he did not deserve the life he had and one those days, Y/N would leave the house and allow Azriel time with their children and all those thoughts would instantly wash away.

“I wish you could have been with us,” Azriel said, pressing a kiss to her forehead. “They have been asking for you since lunch.”

“Feyre needed a lot of help today, the class she was teaching was overbooked so I helped out a little longer than usual,” Y/N answered. “I wish I could have been here earlier.”

Azriel smiled and pressed his lips against Y/N’s. She melted into the kiss. The feel of his lips against hers was a pleasant feeling after her tiring day. However before she had a chance to fully savour it, small hands grabbed Y/N’s dress and tugged it.

“Mummy,” Robin said excitedly. “Look what we made!”

Y/N pulled away from Azriel and down to her son. She smiled upon seeing him. He definitely took after his father, even down to the shade of his eyes was a replica. The only difference was his nose, he had Y/N’s nose.

“Come on!” Robin said, now gripping onto Y/N’s hand.

Y/N allowed herself to be led by her son to the mass of blankets in the centre of the room. Y/N peeked inside and saw her daughter bundled amongst the pillows. Odessa laughed gleefully upon seeing her mother.

The space in the blanket fort was larger than she thought, mostly to allow Azriel to enter with his wings. Y/N shuffled inside and laid down next to her daughter. She kissed her daughter on the cheek. “I missed you today.”

“Did you miss me too?” Robin asked, laying down on the other side of Y/N.

Y/N wrapped her arms around her son and kissed his cheeks. “Of course I did!” Robin tried to push Y/N away, yet the smile on his face and the giggles escaping him as his mother showered him with love betrayed his resistance.

“Daddy! Come back!” Odessa piped up and giggled as Azriel’s face came into view.

He crawled through the gap in the blankets, making sure to keep his wings tucked close to his body. As soon as he was inside, he laid down next to Robin and Robin immediately hugged his father.

Y/N watched Azriel’s face light up as Robin began to speak to him while gripping onto his shirt. Her heart couldn’t feel more full.

“Mummy.” Odessa’s voice caught Y/N’s attention.

Y/N smiled down at her daughter, wrapping her in a hug. “Yes, sweetheart?”

“Can we sleep here?” Odessa asked.

Y/N looked at Azriel and he already looked ready to pass out. Y/N smiled. She returned her gaze to Odessa.

“I don’t see why not,” Y/N said.

Odessa let out a small noise of happiness before nuzzling into her mother's arms and closed her eyes. Y/N held onto her daughter and pressed a kiss to her hair.

“They are growing up too fast,” Azriel said quietly once the two children were asleep between them.

“I know,” Y/N said, reaching out her hand to hold onto Azriel’s. “I swear it was only yesterday we were celebrating Odessa’s first birthday.”

Azriel smiled as he pressed a kiss to Y/N’s palm. “What do you say about another one?”

“Another kid?” Y/N asked

“No, another dog,” Azriel teased. “Yes, another kid.”

Y/N smiled softly. “I remember a time where you were terrified to become a father. Look at you now, wanting more children who look exactly like you.”

“Odessa has your eyes and Robin has your nose. They take after you at least a small amount,” Azriel defended, teasing his wife.

Y/N chuckled. “So you want another one?”

“Only if you wanted to,” Azriel said. “I’ve been thinking since having Odessa that I like having a family. I like having children. And I’ve realised recently that I want a large family. I want more people to love.”

Y/N cupped Azriel’s cheek. “My love, I would love that too. But perhaps we don’t start trying for another child until Odessa is a little older. You know what Nyx was like when he first started to fly, imagine what it will be like with Odessa while also caring for another young baby.”

Azriel smiled. “That would be a nightmare.”

“I know it would be,” Y/N replied. “But having a large family is not a no. Let’s just enjoy what we have for now.”

“Okay,” Azriel said.

He looked down at his children and Y/N could see the unconditional love in his eyes.

“I never thank you enough for proving to me that I deserve this life, Y/N,” Azriel whispered.

“You don’t need to thank me, my love,” Y/N said, brushing her fingers through his hair. “You never need to thank me for something you figured out yourself.”

Azriel smiled in response. He carefully stretched one wing out and draped it over Y/N and the children, wrapping them all in a warm cocoon.

“You are going to ache in the morning,” Y/N said.

“I know,” Azriel said. “But it’s worth it to spend the night with my family like this.”

Y/N smiled. “We definitely need to take this down while Robin and Odessa go to Rhys and Feyre’s, otherwise they will want to sleep in it every night.”

“What’s going to be the excuse?” Azriel asked.

Y/N yawned. “We can figure that out in the morning or we can just take them for ice cream. They will forget all about it.”

Azriel smiled and wrapped his arm around his family. His fingers linked with Y/N’s. “I love you.”

“I love you too,” Y/N replied.

The small squeeze of Y/N’s hand and the gentle pull on that golden thread connecting their souls, Y/N was consumed by Azriel’s love for her and their family. She closed her eyes and drifted off into a peaceful sleep.

[nuhuhwinniethepooh]

For Better or For Worse

Tags : Dark content, Baby trapping, Fluff, Angst, Delving into Gojo's childhood, Yan!tendency, Gojo x Reader, Captivity, Lovesick Gojo

A/N : Couldn't hold back my laughter while writing this (P.S. it was the evil kind)

WC : 3k

____________________________________________________

Satoru is nothing like his father.

Why? Well to start it off with, Satoru's love story isn't quite as renowned as his parents love story. The head of the Gojo clan falling in love with a woman from it's smaller branch, a forbidden love story made possible. Sounds romantic, doesn't it? It's not. Behind the rose-tinted background and the dreamy sighs of onlookers, lies the dark obsession of it all.

Satoru knows that his mother was in love with someone else, Satoru knows that his father didn't care, didn't bother himself with the fact that she was already engaged to another man, already promised to the love of her life. What he did bother with was the dissolution of her engagement, forcing himself on her to bind her freedom, her branch and herself to him. No one cared, her family didn't to say the least, everyone was so delighted to have formed a bond with the main branch of the Gojo clan, to the head of the branch that all regards for her flew out the window.

With the birth of Gojo Satoru soon after, her fate was sealed. What marriage couldn't do, a child did. Her dreams of escaping all but gone, afterall no mother could ever leave her child in the very place that plagued her nightmares and selfishly run off. Besides, running off with Satoru would make her a target of all the 3 great clans- some only interested in snuffing out the heir and holder of the Gojo clan's innate technique whereas running off without him would eat her inside out.

Forget the fact that she was a mother and bearer of Gojo Satoru himself, her husband would've never let her run off. The ring on her finger was but a leash to tie her down and Satoru was but another means for it, lucky him. Lady luck only seemed to favor the most twisted of minds. It started out small, really. So small that it was barely noticeable and by the time anyone realized, it was already too late.

Forcefully cutting off all contacts with her family was as easy as snapping a branch in half, as easy as easy comes by. Then came the isolation, isolating her from the general public, isolating her from the people of the main house until she was fully restricted to the northernmost corner of the house with only two servants besides her, a mockery of the freedom she craved. She was offered everything, given everything she'd ever want but what use is it if it's not what she needs?

Her only connection to the outside world? A husband she loathed and her sweet, sweet son. Her little boy that looked nothing like his father- a small mercy in disguise. Her beautiful boy who she was banned from seeing if she misbehaved ever so slightly, her adorable baby boy being the only thing that kept her sanity in check, the only thing that stopped her from throwing a middle finger up to her husband's face and removing herself from the land of the living. Her baby boy whom she loves so much that she grits her teeth and steels her nerves to please her despised captor of a husband, to murmur sweet nothings in his ear and coddle him like he wants, in hopes for seeing her baby the next day and the next day she does, her beautiful son excitedly running towards her on the gravel path delighted her, made her day just by looking at him, bending to pick him up and press kisses all over his pale tiny face.

Satoru might've been young but he wasn't naive, far from it, he notices the way his mother holds him tighter in the presence of his father. He notices the way her lips form into a tight smile when his father presses a kiss on her cheeks before excusing himself, he notices the way she relaxes when his father is out of sight, pulling Satoru closer as she coos sweet words at him. Softly brushing his hair back and giggling at his words with a softness he can't quite put his finger on, he wishes he could play her laughter on repeat, Satoru's favorite past time might be walking hand-in-hand with his mother in the empty northern courtyard, talking about everything and anything that comes to his mind as she listens, she listens to him talk like the words pouring out of his mouth was the very secrets of the universe instead of his boring everyday life. Satoru likes it, he likes being listened to, he likes being normal, he likes being treated as a child and above all, he likes his mother for doing so.

The world may have shifted from Satoru's birth alone but for her, all Satoru ever was and ever will be was her child. Her baby boy, her little treasure and her reason to live.

One could only guess how devastated Satoru must've been when he finds out his mother collapsed during one of the so-called ban imposed on her because of her misbehavior or so the servants says with hushed voices. He glares at them disapprovingly, heads bowed down and lips pursed into a thin line, murmurs of apology pours out swiftly before they excuse themselves and exit just as quickly.

He clenches his tiny fists, silently praying to every God he knows as he makes his way quietly towards his mother's room. Taking in a deep breathe and walking in, only to see her sitting up on her futon with his father besides her, holding onto her hand as if for dear life as she looks out to the garden with furrowed brows- ignoring father, Satoru notes. Neither of them aware of his presence yet.

"Mam- Mother?" Her head snaps towards Satoru, face softening immediately as she holds her arms out before pausing, throwing a quick glance at the hand held by her husband. A sign to let go. He doesn't relent, squeezing it just a little tighter. She frowns again, rolling her eyes slightly. Placing her attention towards Satoru again, she holds her free arm out for him "Satoru, come here" her voice is sweet, soft, loving, weak. Satoru is already moving, already making his way to her arm and burying his face in the crook of her neck like he always does, breathing in her comforting scent- now mixed with the horrible scent of herbs, of sickness and of death, he scrunches his nose, pulling away to look up at his mother.

She's looking down at him, wrapping her yukata-draped arm around him with a small smile, pressing a light kiss on his forehead "My baby" she whispers, breathing in weakly. "Mama" he sniffles ever so softly, hands curling over her clothes as he buries his head against her chest. She chuckles lightly, weakly, the sound was so comforting. A complete juxtaposition to her condition.

"I need you to be strong, the strongest in fact. You can do that for me, can't you?" She whispers, pulling him closer to her. He nods. She smiles, patting his back. "Mama loves you, you know that right?" She hums softly, leaning her cheek ontop of his head. He nods again "I love you too, mama"

"I love you more, Satoru. So do me a favor, okay? You can do mama a favor right?"

Satoru tilts his head up, expecting to see a smile like always. He's disappointed, there's a serious look on her face. She always smiled at him, always as in ever since he could remember, saving the frowns and looks of distaste for his father- Satoru nods, looking at her just as seriously as she was. She bends down and presses a quick kiss on his forehead, a chill quickly running down his spine- instinctively knowing that this'll be the last time she'll kiss him. Dead or Alive.

"Never turn into a monster like your father."

Silence. Silence broken down by his father's voice, yelling for the servants to drag away Satoru. His mother yells too, Satoru's not quite sure what as the servants make quick work with him, hurriedly dragging him away from the them. Turning his head back to catch a quick glimpse of his mother's figure looming over his father's seated one. It's funny how mother only seemed be her strongest during her weakest state- she huffs angrily, turning her head away in anger before catching sight of Satoru, hurriedly flashing a sad smile that quickly vanishes as the door slams shut and he's forced to take a turn. Her room completely and utterly out of view, along with his mother.

Satoru sees her again the next week but in an entirely different setting than he hoped it to be. Quietly making his way up to his mother's pale, lifeless figure, he looks at his father besides her. All life in his sunken eyes seemingly gone as he mindlessly stares at her, "Mother would've loved to see him this way" he thinks apathetically to himself, kneeling down and brushing her hair back like she always did his as he presses a gentle kiss on her forehead, like she always did his.

"I promise"

He sees his father glance at him momentarily, Satoru steels himself, waiting for him to say something berating maybe then he could berate back, yell and scream back at him but his father says nothing. He doesn't care, more like he can't care to say anything. "Pathetic" Satoru sneers internally, standing up and walking out, his mother listened to him like the very secrets of the universe poured out of his mouth so he'll do the same, what goes around comes around. Right?

Gojo Satoru was only 5 and nothing like his father.

°

Then he met Suguru. Strong and relentless with sass and bangs so profound he couldn't help but let hi- You, you're perfect. Watching you sit besides the new first-years, everything else fades away the minute his eyes makes contact with yours. Your words, your soft gentle voice echoing in the room as you introduce yourself hits him like a sledgehammer, it hits him like a semi-truck crashing full speed into him. Satoru's sure he'd survive the crash but surviving you? He doubts there'd be anything left of him by the end of it all.

His knees goes weak as he watches you hold your hand out to him with a pretty little smile, throwing on his usual smirk, he grabs it and oh- your touch, it burns. Your fingertips brands itself against his palm so deliciously warm that he can't help but squeeze just a little bit tighter, trying to hold on to you for a little while longer before you're pulling it away with a grin and you're speaking but he hardly hears you, so distracted with the lack of warmth, the lack of your hands in his.

"What?" He croaks out, ignoring the side-eye he's receiving from Suguru and Shoko besides him at his unusual demeanor. "It's nice to meet you" you repeat simply, eyes closed as you chuckle softly and oh God, Satoru feels his heart thumping against his chest so wildly that all he can do is hope that you can't hear it, Suguru or Shoko least of all lest he wants to make it the running joke for his entire life. Satoru says something but he doesn't know what, his mind and his mouth two separate entities as he watches you laugh again, he wishes he could record it and play it over and over again. By the time he's aware of what's happening, it's already night and the water is burning his skin, hurriedly switching off the shower overhead he stumbles back, palms pressing against the cool tiled wall, his skin tingling with the heat. It's an uncomfortable heat, one that he doesn't like at all, he'd much prefer the burn of your skin against his, molded perfectly against his-

°

"You're staring again" Shoko drawls out amusedly, nudging Satoru in the ribs as the pair watches you converse with your blond classmate, Nanami, he notes. Your laughter fills the empty distance and before you know it, there's a familiar arm weighing down your shoulder "Hi Gojo" you say without missing a beat, not bothering to look up at the albino draping himself all over you as you drone on about your latest mission to an indifferent Nanami.

"Sorry 'bout him, girlie" Shoko interrupts, grabbing Satoru by the collar and prying him off of you, he let's go with a pathetic whine. You brush it off with a smile, it's okay and I don't mind falling out your lips but it falls on deaf ears as she starts dragging him away. "Give the poor girl some space, Gojo. It hasn't even been 2 months and you're already clinging into her" Shoko berates, shaking her head and praying for Suguru to come back quickly; she doubts she has much patience left for the pouting man-child she's dragging.

Gojo was nothing like his father, what he was was a clingy fool, an annoying one too.

°

"Oh my- what happened?" You rush towards Shoko, eyeing her two classmates sitting quietly in the infirmary. She shakes her head and you know better to ask so you settle down, observing the two, Satoru looks fine...well fine except for the eerie glow in his eyes while Suguru looked like the complete opposite, his eyes was dark and dank, similar to light slowly being sucked out into a blackhole. You can't help but feel a cold dread settling low in your stomach, wrong. Everything is gonna go wrong. And wrong it went, muffled sobs wrecks your body as you crumple to the floor, hands helplessy clutching onto Nanami's blazer as he silently holds onto you and buries your face in his chest. Forcing you to look away from the scene in front of you but you don't relent, turning your head back just a little .

Catching sight of Haibara's lifeless corpse. All cold, pale and unmoving. He's gone, gone and never coming back, just like Suguru because only weeks after, you get the news that he's defected. Defected and on the run, hunted down by the very people he once knew and loved. Gojo, how was Gojo taking the news? The thought brushes past your mind, fading away just as quick as you struggle to pry the umpteenth cigarette from Shoko's fingers, her smoking habit was becoming worse and you took it upon yourself to see that she doesn't kill herself at this rate. Busying yourself to make sure that you don't kill yourself with the lack of closure.

°

"Satoru, how are you holdin' up?" You call out softly as you enter his room, watching the usually bright eyes of his all bloodshot and red does nothing but heighten your worry as you watch him lying down in bed, staring up at the ceiling. Settling down at the edge of the bed, you quietly grab his cold hand, offering him what little comfort you can give. "They need me to kill him" Oh. You say nothing, there's nothing to say. No words of comfort would ever work, not anymore. Squeezing his cold hand just a bit tighter, the room becomes a little more darker with the sun setting behind the windows before he starts speaking again. He's speaking and you're listening, listening to him vent about things you never knew, listening to him ramble on and on about things that didn't matter to others but it did, it did matter to him so he talked about it and you listened, humming and nodding late into the night. Completely missing the fact that his hand never warmed up.

Satoru's talkative by nature, it's an undeniable fact but even he outdid himself when he wakes up with a jolt, looking at the harsh sunlight forcing its way through the windows. With a groan he moves to raise his arms over his head but pauses, blinking back his surprise when he catches sight of your head resting besides his hand, your hands grabbing onto his as if for dear life. Shifting his position he finally sees your legs awkwardly sprawled on the floor, realizing only then that he talked throughout the night only to conk out halfway through, realizing only then that you never let go of his hand, not even once.

Finally, he finally lets his infinity down. The warmth of your hand immediately enveloping his, the tiny squeeze you give while still asleep and the soft sounds of your breathing, oh it makes his heart thump just a little bit faster and stomach flutter just a little bit harder. Gently brushing your hair back, he freezes when your eyes flutters open "Gojo?" You yawn, pulling your hand to rub at your eyes but when you fail to feel both your hands on your face, you realize that he's holding on, squeezing just enough to not hurt but to feel.

"Satoru"

"What?" You look at him confusedly. "Call me Satoru" he grins the same old smile. The smile that reaches upto his eyes and crinkles the area around it...but this time it's softer, softer and warmer. You can't help but smile back at the expectant look in his eyes, the squeeze of his warm hand urging you on, warm. His hand was warm.

"Satoru"

°

Spoiling you rotten was now the only goal in Satoru's life; the extravagant gifts, the 'just because' flowers, the more than unnecessary other things that he does which only earns him a low whistle from Shoko and a polite thank you from your side. You rejected it at first, of course you did. Hell, you rejected it until you lost count but one thing about Satoru is the fact that he's stubborn, so stubborn in fact that the more you rejected the gifts, the more he gave. One gift became two, two became three and so on. Finally giving in when he presents you with the key to a house you said you liked while flipping through a brochure, you refuse it firmly though.

Finally giving in and accepting every other gifts except for that, he just shrugs and pockets the key "feel free and ask if you ever need it, it's yours from now anyways" being the only thing he says before going back to his usual routine.

Satoru was nothing like his father, he was just a lovesick fool, a rich one at that.

°

You liked Satoru, adored him even but not in that way. He was your senior, your partner in crime and your bestfriend if you were being generous with the titles, that's all there was to it. You don't like anyone that wa- Your heart lingers on a certain blond man from the past but he's gone, gone and living his life away from the sorcery world. It's better off this way, you think, brushing off the thought quickly as you file your paperwork in silence. But fate is a funny thing because after everything was said and done, it all starts over again.

Starting with the emergence of Sukuna's vessel and ending with his return, igniting the embers you so difficultly tried to put out. You openly gawk at him when you see him for the first time in a long time, heart fluttering at the smile tugging his lips and your name rolling off his tongue so naturally that it feels like he never left at all.

"Nanami, you're back afterall"

°

Satoru's not sure of his own feelings these days, unsure on if he likes seeing you getting along with Nanami or not. On one hand he's happy watching his only remaining juniors get along but on the other, he just can't get rid of that ugly, twisted feeling that stabs him everywhere when he watches Nanami touch you for a little too long or watch the way your eyes light up when you make the stoic man smile. It just makes him want to snap something...or someone whichever is more convenient.

So he goes to Shoko and on a drunken stupor spills everything out, stupidly crying his heavy heart as he nurses his glass of beer. "Just confess already" is all Shoko says but he perks up, acting like he just heard the answer to all the unanswered secrets in the universe.

"I love you, will you marry me?" Satoru blurts out as he watches you reach the tori gates of the school compound, on your way to your next mission. You look at him with shock, mouth forming a silent what? Too stunned to speak or make a sound. "We could date first if you want" He smiles at you, all bravado and confidence acting as if like he didn't just profess his feelings to you. "No" is all you manage out, missing the way his smile twitches at the word.

"No?"

"No, I'm sorry Sator- Gojo. I don't....I don't see you that way" you sputter out, hands flailing wildly in front of you. Soul-crushing is an understatement, heart-wrenching, bone-breaking...nothing can describe what he, what Gojo, feels at the moment, it's all too much. "It's because of Nanami, isn't it?"

You freeze, heat creeping up your face when he calls you out. You look down in embarrassment and hurriedly cup your cheeks to hide your flushed face, wrong move. Maybe if you kept your eyes on him you'd have seen the way his jaw ticked, maybe you'd have seen him curling his hand into a fist but you didn't do that so you don't see it. Instead you bow, muttering an apology and excuses of being late for your mission before running off, missing the abnormal silence and the eerie chill in the air despite the harsh summer sun shining right overhead.

°

Every single person was wary of Gojo, sorcerers and elders alike, because ever since the day you'd gone missing, his mood has been no better than thunderous. With the emergence of Sukuna's vessel, the curses that needed to be exorcised had increased in number and strength. With the staggering disadvantage of numbers, you had been assigned back-to-back missions and one fine day, had gone missing along with the Grade-2 curse you'd been sent to exorcise. The efforts to at least find your body was futile at best, nothing was left behind, not even a minisicule trace. Finally deeming you dead after a month of searching with no hope of finding your body ever again, it only adds to someone's despair all over again, he should've never come back afterall.

Gojo sighs, shutting the door behind him and silently making his way to the bedroom, he wasn't mad at the fact that you'd gone missing, not at all. On the contrary, he had you right where he wanted you to be. Chained up on his bed for him only. Then why was he mad? He was only mad because even after all this time of convincing and explaining, you still did not understand why he's doing all this. He loves you and he needs you by his side, what was so hard to understand? "I missed you too" Gojo hums to himself when he hears the muffled rattling of chains behind the door, realizing that you heard him come back.

You weren't weak by any means, not at all. You could snap normal chains like twigs if you wanted to but the cursed chain graciously attached to your feet by Gojo was resilient, all efforts left futile. It also burns, it burns like a red-hot spoke, branding you his if you ever so much as try to walk out the bedroom door. The chain magically extended itself to all corners of the bedroom and the bathroom but anywhere else and you're lying on the floor with tears in your eyes as you drag yourself back to bed because of the searing burn around your ankle.

°

You rub your eyes dazedly, where the hell were you? The comforter beneath you, the curtained drapes and even the smell was unfamiliar. Your last memory was being flung to the wall by the semi-special grade curse that you thought was a Grade-2 curse, a deadly mistake by the administration team. You needed to alert Ijichi for back up otherwise you're dead, a blur of white hair flashes past you. Gojo? Why was Gojo her- "Finally awake?" You blink, turning around to see Gojo leaning back on a chair besides the bed with a grin. "Gojo, where am I?" You tentatively ask, eyeing your bandaged arms.

"Our house. You said you liked it last time didn't you? " he answers simply, holding his arm out matter-of-factly. You narrow your eyes at the platinum band on his left ring finger, only realizing then that you had a similar one of your own in your hand. You move to get up but something cool tugs at you ankle, the sound of chain rattling only increasing your heart beat as you throw the blanket off of you. Cold sweat running through you at the thought of it "Gojo, what is this?"

"Oh don't mind it, it's just a precaution" he stands up, pushing the chair aside as he gently tugs at the chain with a satisfied look. "This isn't funny" you tug the chain loose from his finger, biting back the bile rising up your throat when he quietly grabs hold of your ankle. "It's not meant to be funny" he grins, pulling you towards him by your ankle."Why?" You breathe out every so softly, fear and betrayal etched on your face. Oh betrayal, sweet sweet betrayal, he really does love that look on your face.

Everything he says is a buzz, you can't hear him, you're panicking. Nanami, what about Nanami? Oh God, what's gonna happen to him without you there? "Oh don't look like that, I'm not gonna hurt you" he coos, cupping your cheeks, completely misunderstanding your panic. You grab hold of his cold hands, silent tears streaming down your face "Let me go, please Gojo. I swear I won't tell anyone, Please" you plead, lips quivering and shuddering as sobs wrecks your body. "I'm afraid I can't do that" he tuts with mock pity, one hand gently caressing your body as it slides down to your ankle.

"This chain..." he tugs it. Hard.

"Keeps you safe. Keeps you with me. KEEPS YOU MINE" Maybe if he didn't say all that with a smile on his face, you wouldn't have hated him as much as you did right now. But he did and the burning pit of hate burns in your heart, you should've never met him.

"Also call me Satoru, we're gonna be here for a very long time"

°

It all starts over again.

Satoru is nothing like his father.

Where his father's love story extended for so long, his was cut short. Cut short by fate and your death- or thats what people think at least. They don't know that you're well alive and breathing, chained to the bed by the supposedly pitiful star crossed lover of a man.

It's ironic really, when his mother was chained down to his father by just a ring on her finger, he had hated it but here he was, years later. Literally and figuratively chaining you down to him with a physical chain, maybe the reason why Lady Luck seemed to favor the most twisted of mind was because she had a twisted sense of humor too. It's the only explanation.

But what about his mother's words? He became the strongest, that's one wish fulfilled. Never turn into a monster like his father?.... That's two wishes fulfilled, For Better or For worse, he's gonna keep true to his promise till the end.

Satoru is nothing like his father, he was so much worse.

__________________________________________________

Writing block hit me hard. Currently working on pt.3 of Prod!Gojo Satoru again cuz I deleted it by mistake 🥲

Masterlist

[edenesth]

TWTHH Spinoff: Love to Hate You [1]

Pairing: royal secretary!San x female scholar!reader

AU: historical au (Joseon era)

Word Count: 5k

Summary: San prided himself on his knack for building easy connections with women, viewing himself as a trusted ally for the opposite gender. Thanks to his deep bonds with his mother and sister, he possessed keen insights into the female mindset. Never did he imagine facing the ire of a woman, until he encountered a resolute female scholar with a strong dislike towards men.

A/N: As stated in the title, this is a spinoff. If you have yet to check out the main story, it's probably better to read that before starting this.

Main Story | Spinoff Masterlist | Part 2

"Moon Siwoo, you get over here this instant!" you commanded, hands planted firmly on your hips as you glared at your twelve-year-old brother, who grumbled and rubbed his eyes sleepily while trudging reluctantly toward you.

"But noona, it's too early!" he protested, his pout aimed at evoking your sympathy, but you merely shook your head in disapproval.

Your mother sighed beside you. "Please go easy on him," she implored, but you met her plea with a stern gaze. "And who went easy on me, mother? If you keep coddling him like this, he'll grow up to be just another one of those entitled brats who call themselves a man. Is that what you want?"

Defeated, she fell silent and retreated to prepare lunchboxes for you and your brother. The silence spoke volumes, conveying the weight of the elderly woman's guilt as she grappled with your palpable disdain for men. Ever since little Siwoo came into the world, you had made it your mission to ensure he wouldn't become one of those disappointing individuals who claim to be men.

Of course, your dislike wasn't unfounded.

Your late father, already lacking as a parent, succumbed to his drinking problem not long after your brother's birth, leaving you, the eldest, to shoulder the family's responsibilities. But that wasn't the worst of it; his demise was overshadowed by the circumstances of his death—a result of excessive drinking in a brothel, of all places. It was a fact that brought you little sorrow.

Throughout your childhood, he imposed expectations meant for a son onto you, driven by his own unfulfilled aspirations of becoming a respected scholar in Joseon society. However, his misguided attempts at moulding you into his image of success involved subjecting you to gruelling and excessive lessons from a young age. At that time, your mother held little sway and dared not challenge him. Consequently, there was no one to shield you from his demands.

The irony lay in his expectations for you to excel, despite setting a horrible example. He often cited stress as justification for indulging in alcohol, initially venturing out for brief outings with "friends" before progressively extending his absences. Eventually, his nights away grew longer until he would vanish entirely, only returning the following morning reeking of different women's perfumes each time.

Therefore, you would be lying if you said you didn't harbour resentment toward your father. Discovering his passing brought a sense of relief, even if it meant assuming a heavier burden on your young shoulders. Life had never been easy for you in the first place, and you gladly accepted the added responsibility of supporting your mother and younger brother without the presence of a tyrant dictating your actions at home.

Yet, just when you thought the worst was over, you bore witness to the struggles faced by women around you as you juggled odd jobs while pursuing your studies independently, preparing for the state examination—the initial step toward achieving the status of a scholar-official. During this period, you witnessed firsthand how women were often relegated to the roles of mere child-bearers and servants to men who offered little in return. It was almost funny how they depended on women for everything while simultaneously treating the female gender as inferior.

This realisation fueled your determination to become the first female scholar, not to uphold your useless father's legacy, but to advocate for the marginalised women who lacked influential advocates to champion their cause and facilitate change.

Over a decade has passed since those tumultuous times. Now that Siwoo had reached an appropriate age, you resolved to enrol him in school after years of personally tutoring him to impart basic knowledge and skills, aiming to cut costs. You had taught him enough to grasp reading and writing. With him now eligible to enter the foundational levels of education mandated for embarking on the path to becoming a scholar-official, you were resolute in instilling him with your aspirations.

"Too early, you say? Would you rather rise with the sun for school or face punishments then?" you challenged, lifting an eyebrow.

Amusement danced in your eyes as the child's gaze widened in fear, vigorously shaking his head. "No, please! I'll behave and go to school! Spare me from standing in the corner for hours again, noona!"

"Now, that's my good boy," you gentled your tone, tousling his hair affectionately and straightening his slightly dishevelled hanbok. "How many times have I reminded you to tie the ribbons neatly like this? The teachers will scold you if they're not done properly, and you wouldn't want to make a poor impression on your first day. You'll make mother and me proud, won't you?"

He grinned brightly, "Yes, noona!"

Watching from the sidelines, your mother's heart swelled with warmth. Despite your stern demeanour at times, she was aware you loved him more than anything, knowing you could never be overly harsh. You had a knack for striking the right balance, teaching valuable lessons while showing him care and affection. Even as her daughter, she sometimes felt there was much she could learn from you.

"Alright, here are your lunchboxes, kids. Make sure to finish them, okay?" she instructed, passing the bags to you, receiving a smile in return.

"Got it! Don't worry, mother!" he chirped, saluting playfully.

"Thank you, mother. You should rest well while this little monkey heads off to school. How's your back feeling? I can swing by the apothecary for more herbs if you need any," you offered.

She shook her head, gently patting your cheek. "I'm fine, dear. Don't spend money unnecessarily. Some rest will do. Now hurry along before you both end up late."

With an arm around Siwoo, you guided him alongside you after bidding farewell to your mother. Your next stop was dropping him off at the nearest school before heading to the palace yourself to borrow some books not readily available in the public library. Having already passed the first two preliminary examinations with flying colours, only the final one stood between you and the coveted title of scholar-official. You were determined to complete it all swiftly, eager to finally begin making tangible contributions for the women of Joseon.

As you reached the entrance of your alma mater, you handed your brother his bag. "Alright, the teachers are expecting you. Please remember to behave and keep in mind what I've taught you—always be respectful and avoid causing trouble for anyone. Stay attentive and don't hesitate to ask questions if you're unsure. You won't learn anything by staying silent," you reminded, smoothing down his hair.

He nodded earnestly. "I won't forget, noona."

You grinned, pinching his cheek gently. "Good, I'll be here to pick you up after school. Wait right here if I haven't arrived yet. And don't wander off with anyone, understood?"

He swatted your hand away, rubbing his cheek. "Yeah, yeah. How could I forget? You've been drilling that into me for a week now. Bye, noona."

"Goodbye, Siwoo," you murmured, watching him enter the school gates and noticing the familiar figure of one of your teachers, Master Lee, waiting to greet him. Meeting the kind elderly man's gaze, you bowed deeply in gratitude. He was one of the few genuinely good men you had encountered in your life. Back then, understanding the difficulties you faced with your father's strictness, he had always strived to ease your burdens at school. Being the lone girl in a predominantly male institution also made you susceptible to bullying, but in this teacher's presence, you found solace.

He had also played a crucial role in securing your brother's enrollment. While your own admission might have been facilitated by your father's connections, the same couldn't be said for Siwoo, lacking influential or affluent backing. It was your close relationship with Master Lee that ensured his placement in the school.

As the man gave you a reassuring nod before guiding your brother into the school, you lingered for a moment, watching them until they disappeared from sight. You couldn't shake off the constant worry for the kid. The fear of him being bullied once his classmates discovered he didn't have a father plagued your thoughts. Yet, deep down, you understood this was necessary for his growth. After all, you faced similar challenges alone during your own schooling years.

You pushed aside those concerns, reminding yourself that Master Lee would be there to look out for him. With a heavy heart, you reluctantly turned away, knowing that as his elder sister, there was only so much you could do. The rest was up to him.

He'll survive; stop worrying.

Walking away from the school, you reminded yourself of your own priorities for now. Your focus needed to be on studying and acing the final examination. With that thought in mind, you set off towards the palace, your mind already forming a mental list of all the books you would need from the royal library.

Each step brought a sense of determination, the weight of responsibility settling firmly on your shoulders. You couldn't afford to let yourself be consumed by worry for Siwoo, not when your own future depended on your success in the upcoming examination.

"Yes, Your Majesty. I will deliver the latest batch of minutes and reports to General Park to ensure he is kept informed by today," San stated in his customary professional manner before bowing deeply.

The King nodded, gesturing with his hand to dismiss the secretary. "Very well. Proceed. And do not detain him unnecessarily; I am sure he is eager to spend every moment with his wife," he remarked, chuckling softly into his fists, pleased by the transformation of his once stoic general into a loving and affectionate husband.

"Understood, Your Majesty," the younger man replied, stepping back to excuse himself from the throne room.

As he made his way to his office to retrieve the documents before heading to the general's estate, he couldn't shake the feeling of being watched. With a furrowed brow, his steps faltered and he scanned the surroundings, searching for the source. Finally, his gaze settled on what appeared to be the fourth prince, observing him intently from a nearby pavilion. Despite the surprise, San maintained a neutral expression, not wanting to appear impolite.

Meeting Prince Yeosang's eyes, he offered a deep bow in greeting. His Highness reciprocated the gesture with a nod but continued to watch as the royal secretary attempted to move away.

Does he... want something from me?

San let out a deep sigh, internally debating whether to approach the prince. He knew Yeosang wasn't particularly sociable and might find it difficult to initiate conversations, despite any desire he had to do so. Finally, he made up his mind and veered towards the pavilion where the fourth prince was seated.

With a respectful bow, the royal secretary pretended not to notice the small breath of relief that escaped Yeosang upon his arrival. "Good day, Your Highness. It's unusual to see you out. How have you been faring?" he asked politely, mindful of the prince's ongoing punishment, which restricted his access to most areas even within the palace.

Yeosang gestured towards the seat across from him. "As well as one can be, considering my limited movements. Please, Secretary Choi, take a seat, and let us have a chat."

Giving in to the prince's invitation, San settled down and accepted the offered cup of tea. "Thank you, Your Highness. What would you like to discuss?" he asked patiently, allowing Yeosang time to collect his thoughts. As the prince struggled to articulate himself, the royal secretary calmly finished his tea, maintaining an expectant gaze upon His Highness.

After what felt like an eternity, Yeosang cleared his throat before speaking, "H-how is she...?" San immediately understood whom he was referring to but chose to feign ignorance. "I don't think it would be right for me to make any assumptions. Whom do you mean by 'she,' my prince?" he inquired.

Flustered, the prince sighed, avoiding San's gaze as he replied, "Lady Park, the general's wife... I noticed General Park hasn't been attending assemblies for a while now, and I was just... you know, wondering if everything is alright with her or... them."

The royal secretary's demeanour softened at Yeosang's inquiry. Offering a warm smile, he reassured, "Your Highness, please do not worry. Things are more than fine over at the general's estate. I didn't think it'd be right for you to hear this from me, but it seems there's no avoiding it, especially given your current restriction from leaving the palace."

Yeosang's curiosity sparked further. "What news do you speak of? Please, tell me."

San hesitated briefly before disclosing the truth. "Lady Park is, um... well, she's expecting, my prince. That's why the general has taken time off from work to care for her."

The prince fell silent for a moment, processing the news, while the royal secretary observed the myriad of emotions crossing His Highness' face. Finally, Yeosang croaked out, "I suppose that means he's treating her well then, yes?"

San nodded reassuringly. "Yes, he is. Perhaps when His Majesty pardons your punishment, you could pay them a visit. I'm sure Lady Park would appreciate seeing you."

The prince nodded slowly. "That's good... and yes, I think I will."

After a brief pause, the secretary spoke again. "Well, if that's all, I should probably return to work, Your Highness."

Yeosang nodded in understanding. "O-oh yes, of course. Don't let me keep you any longer. Thank you, Secretary Choi."

With a polite nod, San took his leave, continuing on his way to his office. His mind couldn't help but wander, pondering whether the prince still held any feelings for the general's wife. Even if he did, the secretary reasoned, at least His Highness was gracious enough to accept and acknowledge that he didn't stand a chance.

As he walked, his steps faltered, and he did a double take when he noticed a figure he had long wanted to meet—the first of your kind. He had heard much about your impressive performance in the preliminary exams. You must be here to prepare for your final examination. Eager to make your acquaintance, he rushed over, only to be met with the last thing he had expected.

"I'm just trying to help, Scholar Moon," the royal secretary insisted, his arms emptying as the stack of books he was previously carrying was abruptly snatched away by the newly acquainted female scholar.

You scoffed in response, "I don't remember asking for your help, sir. I understand it must be quite intriguing to meet a female scholar for the first time. However, there's a reason I'm the first. I'm not your typical damsel in distress. I don't need saving. While you may be used to women swooning at your feet, rest assured, I won't be one of them."

San stood in stunned silence as he watched you storming off in a fit of anger, completely taken aback by your hostile response to his well-intentioned gesture.

He had stumbled upon you as you exited the royal library burdened with a stack of borrowed books, his innate helpfulness and gentlemanly nature immediately prompted him to offer assistance without hesitation. But rather than the customary grateful smile and expression of thanks he anticipated, he couldn't believe he was met with such an unexpected and vehement reaction.

Did I... do something wrong?

A court lady standing nearby widened her eyes in disbelief. "Did you seriously just say that? Do you even know who he is?"

You rolled your eyes dismissively. "Probably just a eunuch, why?" you retorted, waving off her concern. "I doubt any high-ranking officials would pay me any mind."

"Well, you're correct about that. He's not a high-ranking official, but he is someone close to the King. He's the royal secretary," she disclosed, causing your heart to nearly stop as you gaped at her.

He's the what?!

After taking a moment to compose yourself, you blinked rapidly before turning around, only to find him already gone. With a sigh, you faced the court lady again, wearing an expression as if you had done nothing wrong. "Okay, well, as you said, he isn't a high-ranking official. Just a mere secretary. What's he going to do about it? Run to the king like a spoiled little brat? It will be fine," you said, though it sounded more like you were convincing yourself than her.

Suppressing a chuckle behind her hand, she nodded in agreement. "Well, you're not wrong about being fine. Royal Secretary Choi is known to be one of the nicest people. I'm sure he will let it slide," she reassured you with a gentle smile.

Your brows furrowed sceptically. "One of the nicest people, huh? I know men like that; wolves in sheep's clothing. They'll treat you well, make you feel indebted, and then exploit you eventually."

She sighed in resignation, shaking her head in disbelief. "I know nothing I say now will change your mind, but with time, you'll see he isn't anything like that at all."

You replied with a wry smile, "With time? No, I hope I never run into him again. I have no interest in his character. Nevertheless, thank you for the insight. I'll remember to steer clear if I ever see him again. Good day, madam." With a polite bow, you bid her farewell and continued with your day.

As you made your way back to your educational institution to resume your studies, you couldn't help but scoff as you reflected on the encounter with that man and the favourable reputation he tried to cultivate in the palace. Being no stranger to such types, you recognised his type: those who exploited their charm and false kindness to manipulate others. They always seemed to get what they wanted, with people readily bending to their will. It was a trait you detested. This royal secretary appeared to be cut from the same cloth.

But if he thought you would succumb to his charm like the other court ladies and comply with his wishes, he was sorely mistaken. You hoped you wouldn't have to see him again.

Despite feeling a twinge of embarrassment for being less than polite to someone of his stature, you didn't regret your words. They were spoken with genuine conviction.

"Thank you, San. If that's all..." Seonghwa's voice trailed off as he caught sight of the troubled expression on the royal secretary's face. "Oh god, what is it?"

Shaking his head, the younger man replied, "It's nothing serious. I just had a really odd encounter earlier today, and I'm wondering if I did something wrong..."

"Really? You? Doing something wrong? That doesn't sound like Choi San to me. You can do no wrong," the general teased, finally managing to coax a smile out of the royal secretary.

San chuckled. "Well, you know how easily I usually connect with girls and women."

Seonghwa raised an amused brow. "Ah, girl problems? It must be the season of love. Yunho's confiding in my wife about his own love troubles as we speak."

The secretary's eyes widened, and he waved his hands to dismiss the suggestion. "What? L-love? It has nothing to do with that."

"Yeah, that's what they all say..." the general grinned knowingly.

"No, seriously. Have you heard of the famous Scholar Moon?" San asked, to which the older man nodded. "If you're referring to the first female scholar in Joseon, then yes. So, she's the protagonist of your love story, huh?"

Secretary Choi rolled his eyes. "I swear, sometimes I miss when you're all cold and brooding. Anyway, I met her for the first time earlier, just before coming here. I saw her emerging from the royal library, arms filled with books, and out of kindness, I offered to help. But instead of thanking me, she... snatched the books back and launched into a whole monologue about not being a damsel in distress and not needing my help. She seemed... quite angry with me."

The general pondered for a moment, "Hmm, interesting..." San anxiously waited to hear Seonghwa's thoughts on the situation, nervously biting his lip.

Finally, the older man spoke up, "Well, she is the first female scholar after all. Perhaps she's different from most women you know. And besides, if she didn't request your help and you intervened, it might come off as presumptuous. Or maybe she's just having a bad day, and you happened to be there. Or... well, I'm probably the last person you should be consulting on this. You're the expert when it comes to women, so if you can't understand her, how can I...?"

Observing the continued concern on the secretary's face, the general added, "You care too much, San. Remember, no matter how well you think you understand women, not everyone is the same. Don't be surprised if you can't get along with every woman on earth. If, as you said, it's not about love, then let it go. Why should one Scholar Moon upset the great Royal Secretary Choi?"

San took a moment to absorb General Park's words before nodding slowly. "You're right. Maybe I just have to accept it," he conceded. "I guess I'm so affected because this has never happened before."

Pushing himself up from his seat across from Seonghwa, the secretary bowed respectfully. "I've taken more of your time than I planned. I should probably get going." The older man nodded, rising to see his friend off.

As San reached the exit of the general's study, he paused. "Oh, wait, one last thing... I spoke with the fourth prince earlier," he mentioned, sensing a slight shift in Seonghwa's demeanour. "He mentioned not seeing you around the palace and was concerned about Lady Park. I... told him about her pregnancy. I hope you don't mind. He seemed relieved to hear she's doing well."

Seonghwa's expression softened. "Thank you, San. That's good to know. I appreciate it. He's... her friend, I'm sure she'd want His Highness to know." Giving San a pat on the shoulder, he said, "Off you go then. Have a safe trip back. I'll see you next week."

As the secretary made his way back to his family estate, he opted to forgo the carriage ride for the day, choosing instead to take a leisurely walk. He figured it would help clear his mind of the unnecessary thoughts that had been bothering him. Perhaps it was the people pleaser in him, but he couldn't shake off the feeling that the earlier incident had affected him more than he cared to admit. Even though he knew he hadn't done anything wrong, he couldn't help but replay the encounter in his mind, wondering what he could have done differently to elicit a more favourable reaction from you.

However, he reminded himself of General Park's words – not everyone was meant to get along, and that was okay. With that in mind, he tried to focus on the scenery around him, letting the gentle breeze and chirping birds distract him from his thoughts.

Just as he was about to walk past a school, he heard the unmistakable sound of a child crying. Curious, he turned toward the source of the sound and saw a young boy sobbing alone by the entrance of the school.

San looked around to see if anyone was responsible for the boy's distress or if the source of his tears could be identified, but there was no one nearby. Passersby continued on with their day, seemingly oblivious to the child's plight. Unable to ignore the situation, San slowly approached him before kneeling down beside him.

"Hi there, kid. Are you okay? What happened?" he asked gently.

The child sniffled, wiping his tears. "My sister told me not to talk to strangers. If you think I'll follow you, then forget it. I'm not like those other dumb kids," he replied with a pout.

Taken aback by the boy's response, the royal secretary blinked rapidly before reassuring him, "I... no, I'm not a bad person."

The boy snorted sceptically. "Yeah, that's what they all say. If you try anything, I'll scream for my teacher."

Huh, that attitude feels oddly familiar.

Raising his hands in a gesture of surrender, San shook his head. "I promise, I just wanted to check up on you and find out why you're crying. If you don't want me to bother you, I'll leave right now."

Just as he was about to walk away, the boy sighed and tugged on his sleeve. "W-wait... fine, just listen to me then," he relented.

San chuckled softly. "Go on, tell me what or who made you cry. Even if I might not be able to help you, you'll feel better after talking about it."

The child nodded, fiddling with his fingers nervously. "It's my first day of school and... it's stupid. My sister already warned me that it might happen, but still..." Fat tears rolled down his little cheeks as San wiped them away gently. "It's okay, you can tell me," he encouraged.

The boy continued, his voice trembling with emotion. "They bullied me because I don't have a father. He died not long after I was born, so it's just me, my mother, and my sister. But I don't get it! Why should I get bullied for something I can't control?"

Just as San lifted his hand to comfort the child, he was startled by the unexpected appearance of the last person he anticipated seeing so soon. "Hey! Don't you dare lay a hand on him!" you shouted, hurrying over.

Your protective instincts kicked in as you arrived to collect Siwoo from school, only to find him in tears with this unfamiliar man poised to touch him. At the sound of your voice, the royal secretary swiftly turned his head, and your eyes widened in shock at the sight before you. Just when you hoped never to encounter him again, fate had other plans. The world had never been kind to you, so perhaps you shouldn't have been surprised.

Are you freaking kidding me?

"S-scholar Moon! I swear, I was just trying to help..." San's words stumbled out, but you took a deep breath to steady yourself before responding, "It's fine, we're fine. I'm not even going to ask what you're doing here. I just... I apologise for my earlier behaviour in the palace if I offended you in any way. Thank you, Royal Secretary Choi, for your kindness, but we really don't need your help."

Your brother protested, "But, noona—"

You shot him a stern look. "We'll discuss this at home, Moon Siwoo."

As San stood there, his mind racing, the pieces of the puzzle began to fall into place. Not only were you the first female scholar, to achieve such a feat without the backing of a powerful father, but you also carried the burden of supporting your family on your shoulders. Could it be that your disdain for help stemmed from a distaste for pity? He couldn't fathom how difficult things must have been for a young lady like yourself.

It occurred to him that your independence might have forged a toughness within you, causing you to recoil at the mere thought of accepting assistance. But these were mere speculations. He knew his mind would not find peace until he uncovered the truth.

As you turned to leave with your brother, the royal secretary's voice halted your steps. "Wait, Scholar Moon! I swear, I came across your brother by chance; I didn't realise he was related to you. And I... I, too, apologise if I've offended you in any way. There must be a reason for your reaction, and if there's anything I could have handled better, please let me know. I understand that being a female scholar must not be easy."

You briefly closed your eyes, acknowledging his smooth words. Had it been someone else, they might have melted. But maintaining your resolve, you turned back to face him. "I appreciate the apology, Royal Secretary Choi. But please, don't overthink it. My reaction wasn't aimed solely at you; it would have been the same with any man. Now, if you'll excuse us, we must be on our way."

Wait, what does that mean?

« Preview of Part 2 »

"Sometimes I wonder what His Majesty sees in you. You can be so dense, it's astonishing," Haneul remarked, shaking her head in playful disbelief as she nudged San's head.

He whined, swatting her hand away. "What are you even doing here, noona? Is your husband okay with you always running away from home like this, huh?"

She smacked him lightly. "Is that any way to talk to your older sister? Besides, this is my home too. What's wrong with visiting once in a while? And let's not change the subject! She's already dealing with a tough life, and now she has to contend with self-absorbed men like you. It's clear she doesn't trust men. She grew up without a father, and even when he was around, who knows what he was like? And being a female scholar, imagine the prejudice she faces. Do you honestly think she's had positive experiences with men?"

"What? I'm not self-absorbed!" he protested, shooting her a glare.

Haneul nodded sarcastically. "Oh yeah, not at all. All you've been busy thinking about is what you did, what you could have done because everything revolves around you and your magical ability to charm all the women on this land. Finally, you meet someone immune to it, and of course, it couldn't possibly be because you're just a man, but rather, it has to be about you."

"W-well, if you put it that way..."

She rolled her eyes. "Just admit that I'm right and move on, you fool. Now that you know it's not about your actions; it's just her general distrust in men, you can sleep in peace tonight knowing you did nothing wrong. It's not you, it's her."

But the royal secretary found himself unable to sleep well that night. Understanding that it was men you hated only ignited a newfound determination in him.

I'll show her that not all men are the same.

Y'all, I'm sorry this took so long! I'm afraid updates will be slow after this because guess who is starting her full-time job tomorrow :) back to that Mon-Fri 8-5 corporate life, so I won't be able to write as frequently anymore💔 but I'll do my best to write whenever I can!

As always, thank you for reading and let me know your thoughts! <3

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All Rights Reserved © edenesth // DO NOT REPOST, TRANSLATE, PLAGIARISE OR REPURPOSE.

[tulliok]

What would be Sunburst's role in the AU, if any at all?

So I actually designed Sunburst already and made up a backstory for him and Starlight! Here’s the first explorations I did of him. I did try drawing him with the cute wizard beard, but a mustache was just more period appropriate and I had to take some liberties. The inspiration board included Harvey from Stardew Valley, Milo Thatch from Atlantis, and Newt Scamander from Fantastic Beasts.

I rewatched “The Parent Map”, and was disappointed by the way that the show failed to explore how Starlight and Sunburst’s parental figures affected their trauma and future relationships. (In general I think Starlight and Sunburst are severely underutilized.) Instead of their families being well-meaning socialites like in the series, they’re members of the Italian-American mob. Starlight and Sunburst have a lot more baggage in the AU as a result.

For Starlight’s father, instead of him being just a silly dad that coddles her too much, I figured it would make more sense if he was far more controlling of her life. It would explain her obsessive need for control and why she has so much trouble handling friendships in the future. Rather than the cutie mark cult, I made her an innkeeper that operates an underground speakeasy. @bixels suggested making her a loan shark as well.

Sunburst is still magically and intellectually gifted, but I scrapped the magic school dropout thing. My idea for his backstory is that he was a golden child that couldn’t take the pressure of being in the mob, so he was disowned by his mother. Him having to leave without a choice makes more sense to me as to why the event was so traumatic to Starlight, as Sunburst was her only friend. In the AU he works as a linguist and magical historian.

I sorta just made these up as my own responses to what I don’t like about their arcs and backstories in the series, while also taking the era into account. Starlight’s motive for her villainous actions in the show is honestly too ridiculous for me and it needs more details, and Sunburst is given practically no backstory.

[the-fandom-is-now-my-life]

I apologize in advance, but the brainworms did a heckin screech and I felt the need to share the chaos.

Imagine, if you will, that our Creator let's it slip that they've interacted with other worlds before reaching Teyvat. (Played other video games) Imagine having to explain that in these other worlds, they may or may not have been interested in the denizens of those realms...sometimes in the romantic sense, which led to wedding bells and/or children.

Cue the uproar from the Genshin cast. The Creator, Blessed Maker of All...you have courted others? Have been married?? You have had children??? Their image of you being pure and untouchable, blown apart into tiny little pieces of confetti. 🎉

Though many loathe to admit it, they are curious...who are these people, what are they like? Is there a common factor in your selection of spouses? You would only pick the very best of a realm to choose as a potential partner, surely another being of creation...or perhaps a demigod?

It leads to the proverbial red string board getting made, the Archons trying to find out who is your most likely pick from their regions. It's all for your safety, your Benevolence! If you insist on having a partner, they must find the perfect match for you! You deserve only the best of the best, after all.

Bonus points if the Creator was a fan of games like the Harvest Moon/Rune Factory series. They're gonna need to make a list of all their partners, there are so many options to choose from. >>_>>

I'll admit I never played any of those games so I skimmed through the harvest moon wiki and chose one of the bachelors and chose some other game characters lol. Plus a game for all of you, guess the characters.

Though I do think that the reader having children before causes a bit of whiplash because it's totally unexpected, mostly because there were no records of you taking spouses or kids, even knowing you ‘have’ (play) other worlds is a surprise that causes a bit of a crisis. Either way here are some head cannons.

“I must admit, your grace is awfully attached to Qiqi” Zhongli hums as he blows on his white tea, a small cloud of steam leaving.

Qiqi doesn't pay him much mind, her head coddled under your chin like a little puppy, between her hands there is a small bird plushie “Well, I must admit she does kind of remind me of one of my little ones” Your hand softly pats her head, a few strands of hair moving as you do.

He stills as you spoke, eyes fixated on his cup “your… little ones?”

“Mhm?” Without looking up from the braid you were giving to the little girl you just nod “yep, she is quite soft spoken like Milenoe”

“... I wasn't aware your grace had sired children” there was never any mentions about holy spawns or spouses taken by you in any manuscript he got his hands on.

“Well, I never chose a couple from this world, so there wouldn't be any descendants” the comment slips airly from your lips as Qiqi slides off your lap towards baizhu who had finished checking the books from your bookshelf. “Do you want to see her? She started elementary school a few weeks ago” without waiting for an answer a screen appears displaying a tall man with black hair and horns standing regally behind you and a child with emerald eyes and horns.

“She looks rather shy”

You hum nodding “she is as shy as her father when he was her age. There aren't many children her age she can play with so she was pretty lonely her first 50 years”

“50 years?”

“her dad is a slow maturing species” so it should be 10 times the life expectancy than humans. Not that long for him but certainly longer than usual.

•°•°•

“It's a wonder to see how you manage to get Klee to change her mind about going fish blasting,” albedo scribbles some data half mindedly as he watches you hover next to Klee, who showed you a new drawings every few minutes “she is so stubborn even with Alice”

“Well I do have experience with headstrong children, Pardine is as focused on her goal as her father” one of your hands fall on her blonde hair, bright but still darker than Pardine’s almost champagne blonde and her red eyes polar opposite to her icy ones, a carbon copy to her dad. Even if your genetics rarely showed up on any of your kids it was uncanny how similar she looked to her dad and aunts “but I will admit she does annoy many guards asking to train her”

Albedo just laughs it off, listing the few loose characteristics of one of her spouses. Venti has been annoying him about his nation almost getting no information so he hopes a few spare tidbits and Klee’s rough drawing of a blond blue eyed man with a big shield works for whatever weird thing the archons have going on.

•°•°•

“Your Grace has married before?!” Ayaka gasps as you take a stroll around the nature surrounding her home. Her hand had swiftly unfolded her fan in front of her face.

“Mhm, I don't know why people get so surprised, after all it would be weirder if I spent so much time somewhere but took no lovers” you laugh at her slightly seeing her slightly flustered “it's almost a tradition at this point, to wed someone from each world. Want to see some family portraits?” She nods fervently looking at the tablet like thing that appeared on your hands, first a white haired cowboy like man is kneeling on the ground holding a baby by the armpits surrounded by three wolves ,seemingly playing with an older child, by the time the next imagine passes Ayaka is almost hanging by your shoulder, asking things about the siblings and begging to see more photos of your babies.

“And who did you take from teyvat?” Ayaka looks up sweetly at you, she has always held you in high regard and now that you are in Inazuma she can't help but get giddy thinking about how you decided to spend the stay in her state and most of your time with her.

Feigning surprise you tap your chin with your index finger “now that I think about it I didn't choose anyone yet... maybe it's about time”

“Then that means you could pick my brother!” She wraps her hand around your own, smiling as if she got the best idea ever “I could even call you older sibling!... If you wanted so of course”

“Big brother you remember how you told me you would find me a proper bachelor”

“If this is about wanting me to rush it won't work”

“It's not about it, I found you someone”

“Fine, as you please, need I remind you my standards are quite high”

“It's their grace!... Why are you choking on your tea!?”

•°•°•

“There isn't one damned coincidence…” Raiden slaps her head against the table with the rough drawings and some information about them “a king, a captain, a cowboy, a damned sorcerer…”

“Maybe there isn't supposed to be a coincidence” Nahida guesses “maybe they just look for someone who catches their eye”

“It doesn't help out as much as you think it does” the tsaritsa crosses her legs and leans against the back of the chair “if we are doing people with very clear characteristics maybe Ajax could fit nicely? Redheads aren't very common”

“Mhm, maybe but don't they have a liking for smart men? Then Alhaitham would be closer to their past couples”

“Well if we are going by that logic they should like the geo archon, as one of them has dragonic features” the tsaritsa side eyes Zhongli from the other side of the table.

Sighing deeply Furina, who came in place of Neuvillette, chimes in “It is their decision who they want to marry and even if they wanted to!”

"obviously you would be so calm, after all they are very close with your iudex. Don't get so cocky, I heard the commissioner Ayato is interested in the idea"

[c0ld0utside]

Hello there,I am a new follower and I'm just wondering if your comfortable to write a Yandere platonic royal family and a male y/n, only if you're comfortable i don't wanna pressure you

Imagine - Yandere Royal Family 

Hi! Yeah, that’s totally fine! 

Yandere Royal Family with a Male kid

Warnings: Overprotectiveness, coddling behavior, manipulation, familial hatred

You are the youngest son of the royal family, consisting of your Mother, Father, Older Sister, and Brother. You’re the baby, the one who can do no wrong, Mama's boy, the one who has to be protected at all costs. Your Older Brother doesn’t need to worry about fighting over the throne with you, and he’d never dream of it! You’re too pathetic and sweet! 

…Right?

Yandere Princess Sister who’s the first to notice your sudden…”everything” change over the years. You’re quieter, you don’t play as much and you’ve started to distance yourself. You’re rude to her. Rude. You hate playing dress up and being cooed at by her and her friends during teatime. You’re usually the first to finish dinner and you quickly excuse yourself and hide in your room. 

Yandere Prince Brother who’s the second to notice. He doesn’t interact with you much since he’s busy learning how to be king for when he eventually takes your father’s place, but he has made time to hang out with you when he can. No- you cannot spar with him. Mom and Dad don’t want you to hurt yourself anyway. Why don’t we read a story instead? No? You used to love it when he read you stories- where is this coming from? 

He feels worried when you storm out of the room. 

Yandere Empress Mother who’s the third to notice. You don’t join her for tea or walks in the garden. You don’t sit with her in her office, talking to her about what you did today. Sure, it was usually repetitive, the same old “I read a new book and saw a pretty bird from the window,” but she didn’t mind. You don’t tell her your wishes or troubles anymore. 

You want to learn how to sword fight? No, absolutely not, you don’t need to learn how to fight at all. You’re safe here, anyway. No, you can’t go out into town without your guards. I don’t care if your Sister only has one, she’s much older than you. What do you want to go into town for? I’ll place an order for you. You want to go outside without me, your Older Sister, or Your Older Brother? I’ll have your guards go with you, then. 

Yandere Empress Mother who simply wants the best for you and wants you to be safe. If you won’t come to her, she’ll come to you. She’s surprised when your answers are short. “Why haven’t you been spending time with me anymore?” “Is it true that you’re being rude to your siblings?” “Sword fighting? Again? No, you can’t. Your father and I don’t want you to get hurt. …Did you just tell me to get out?”

After you slam the door shut, she stands there in a stunned silence. Did that really just happen? She has to process for a long time.

She takes a deep breath before heading off to speak with your father.

With your Sister and Brother.

Yandere Emperor Father who does a double take at what he’s been told. Was this really you they were talking about? He immediately demands an audience with you. Unfortunately, he’s not gentle like your mother and siblings. He immediately asks you if what the rest of your family said is true, and like the good child you are, you admit to it. He can’t help but feel a little happy and proud about that- you coming clean. It goes away when it’s clear that you aren’t sorry. 

“Why have you been acting this way? Don’t give me that, you’re still a child. Stop talking back to me. Don’t argue with me. When did you become so disrespectful? No, you’re not a prisoner, that’s ridiculous! We all love you and care about you very much. You don’t understand how devastated we’d feel if you got hurt. We just want what’s best for you, you’re too young to understand. Didn’t I tell you to stop talking back to me?” 

Yandere Emperor Father who confines you to your room for a month. It’s a hard decision for him to make- he hates having to punish any of his children. Meals are brought to you and you’re allowed to leave to use the bathroom, but the servants aren’t allowed to speak with you. 

Only your family can. 

It’s mostly your siblings and your mother, who you turn away each time. Rarely does your father stop by, lecturing you and trying to get you to see reason. When you don’t, he sighs and adds another month to your punishment time. Unbeknownst to all of them, you have a plan. 

Yandere Royal Family who nearly died on the spot when you’re not in your room. Your older brother is the one to discover you’re missing. It went like this: He “found” your favorite childhood storybook in his room. He had read you the stories so many times he had them all memorized. He felt a bit guilty for hiding it all those years ago, seeing that sad expression on your little face. But he made it up to you by telling you a story before bed. You didn’t need the book anymore, after all. You need him. 

He thought it’d make you feel better. Imagine his horror when he sees the makeshift rope of the blanket and bedsheets in the open window. Imagine everyone else’s surprise when they hear him shouting frantically. When they see him running through the hallways screaming about how you’re gone.

Several search parties are sent out, your family counting the seconds and trying to stay calm. Their panic worsens when you’re missing for days. Where did you go?! Why did you run away?! Did you run away? Did someone take you? That can’t be possible, you don’t know anyone except your family. Because they’re all you need. 

When you’re found, you’re dragged back kicking and screaming. At first your family is worried, thinking you’re shouting because you’re injured. But no, it’s because you don’t want to be locked up again. Especially with them. They don’t notice some of the pitying looks you get, especially from a certain guard.

The guard who they didn’t know let you escape. 

They’re too relieved to be angry at you for long, and your punishment terms have changed.

You have to stay right by their side for the day. Yes, and night, too. Isn’t that fun, though? You can watch your brother swordfight, dress up with your sister (you look amazing, by the way), talk to your mother and father while they work, and have sleepovers…

You spent the day with your brother today. With a loving smile and a kiss to your temple, he wishes you goodnight and closes your eyes. 

Not noticing that you stayed up a bit longer, eyeing his sword on the rack.

-

Wuh-woh, looks like Reader’s getting other ideas on how to get out. This was interesting to write! Thank you all for the love so far! I’ll try to update once a day, I don’t really have a schedule for my posts.

[daportalpractitioner]

mommy's moon sign: a thread ☾ part two — libra thru pisces

if you're looking for part one (aries-virgo), then click here

libra moon: if your mom has a libra moon, she could have been more preoccupied with her relationship with your father rather than putting herself in a position to be focused on her pregnancy + preparing a balanced environment for you. libra moon mamas often go through it with the father of the baby if they prematurely decide to have kids outside of wedlock (we don't judge over here). your mom could have been more focused on the aesthetics of motherhood + also on you being able to have both parents under one roof to be able to fit her ideal family picture. this mentality could have led her to distract herself from the bigger picture which is making sure that she is in a healthy, fulfilling relationship with your father. i wouldn't be surprised if you knew more than you should have when it comes to your parents' relationship as a child. with libra being the sign of relationships, the relationship patterns that your mother exhibited when pregnant with you could have been something that you picked up on, whether it be healthy or unhealthy. beware of issues with co-dependency + people pleasing passed down from your mom as those are big themes that must be overcome in the life of a libra moon mama. libra moon mamas hold a lot of resentment due to being so passive about people overstepping their boundaries + could project that pain onto you if it remains undealt with. as her child, she may be triggered by her relationship with you because she sees you as her mirror. encourage her to have strong boundaries. it's okay for her to say no and she won't be hated for it. respect her decisions. be sure not to be the child that coddles her emotions at the end of the day because she is a grown ass woman, but you should affirm her that it is okay to self-validate without trying to over-rationalize however she feels so that she can move through her emotions + not be avoidant.

scorpio moon: the moon is in a debilitating position (fall) when in scorpio, therefore, it isn't uncommon for women to have a painful pregnancy due to all of the trauma being stored in the womb. your scorpio moon mama may have lived in a state of fear or distrust during her pregnancy + i wouldn't be surprised if she felt alone due to not trusting people. this lack of nurture within the womb was definitely passed down to you if she didn't take accountability to heal from the pain that she experienced. scorpio moon mama would kill to make sure that all your needs are met, but when it comes to handling intense emotions, she may have not known how to navigate those with you (similar to capricorn moon mothers). scorpio moons experience a wounded relationship with their own mother + now that it's their turn to be a mom, they want to be better for their children. motherhood is definitely something that transformed them for the better + they really have the make a conscious effort to not display the same patterns that hurt their inner child. be patient with her + even though you are not responsible for her emotions + how she handles them, provide a safe space for her so that she knows that she is not alone. having emotional boundaries with your mother is also important — not having those boundaries with her can manifest into perpetuating a preoccupied/anxious attachment within yourself.

sagittarius moon: sagittarius moon moms usually end up unexpectedly pregnant. i've noticed that a lot of sag moons are not aware of their cycle which can definitely be responsible for unexpected pregnancies. nonetheless, their pregnancy + motherhood is something they ended up being excited about. they could have had a "fuck it, we ball" mentality because realistically speaking, such is life. lack of preparation could have led to instability in your mother's life while she was pregnant + even after giving birth, bouncing around from place to place. sagittarius moon mamas usually have a youthful + humorous personality, being able to relate with their children + make them laugh. it can be hard to take a sagittarius moon mother seriously because they're usually deemed as the "cool moms" that are very lenient with their children. they can often struggle with disciplining their children because of their own free-spirit nature. if your mother didn't prioritize structure + routine while raising you, it's possible that you downloaded that naturally chaotic, fiery, and unpredictable energy that she also has. sagittarius moon mamas need to be able to teach their children that there are consequences to their actions so that their kids don't end up getting in trouble later on in life or even dangerous situations. hold your own mother accountable for her actions + don't be afraid to put her in her place! she has a lot to learn from her experience as a mother, which includes listening to the ones that she birthed.

capricorn moon: capricorn moon mothers usually have children later on in life (not always though) - either way, the universe granted them their babies when they were ready + prepared to take on this mission as a mother. before motherhood, capricorn moon mommies could have performed the motherly role in other ways (eldest sister, nursing/doctor/healer career, etc etc) so this is not their first rodeo. capricorn moons get a reputation for being cold + stern, which is how they may come across but really they are just not about the bullshit + they take their role as a mother very seriously. they recognize how serious motherhood is and therefore you are going to respect the fuck out of your capricorn mother, even if you don't agree with some of the things that she has tried to instill in you. capricorn moon mothers are focused on legacy + will do her best to make sure that she raises well-rounded children, setting them up for success. so if you have the kind of mother that has tried to shove education + career down your throat, it's because she just wants you to be successful. they also may struggle with being in their feminine energy, especially if your mother is the provider in the house so as her child, you should encourage her to do some therapeutic activities with you to ease some of that stress. though she takes her role as a mother very seriously, there is no denying how stressful the role is on her + can really take a toll on her physical body. if she's open to it because i know how traditional capricorn moons can be, i highly recommend going to therapy together in order to unpack + heal some of those deep seated emotional blockages that can really help to improve + strengthen the family unit.

aquarius moon: these are the unorthodox mothers. the mothers that have instilled confidence in their children from a very early age. your mother may have gotten pregnancy at an awkward time in her life, therefore she realized that she had to start getting real strategic around here to ensure success for this nu era in her life. with an aquarius moon mother, there may have been some distance between you two, whether it be physical or emotional distance. i've noticed that people with aquarius moon mothers were raised by their grandparents or were adopted + don't really know their mother like that (along with pisces moon mamas). if your mother was present throughout your entire upbringing, you may have noticed that she was preoccupied with other tasks such as showing up for her tasks in the real world. there could be strain between you and your mother because you may have felt like she could have paid more attention to you. regardless of how your relationship with your mother manifested, you more than likely came out to be very independent + confident enough to march to the beat of your own drum. these are the moms that started cursing in front of their kids since they were babies. because aquarius moon mamas are very independent themselves, you could have felt like your aquarius moon mama robbed you of your childhood because you too had to learn how to become independent + self-reliant from a young age, resulting in inner child wounds. because the relationship that you have with your mother is not like the traditional mother-child relationship, she can come off more like a friend or an older sister, also resulting in mother wounds because of that lack of motherly nurturance that the child craves + needs. learning to become emotionally vulnerable + transparent with your mother is a theme in order to evolve the relationship. validate where you feel like she may have lacked while also respecting the fact that she did the best that she knew how to. she needs you as someone to hold her ego accountable.

pisces moon: similar to the aqua moon mom, your mother may have been there, but also not "there". there could have been a period in your life where your mother was not physically present + you had to be raised by someone other than her (grandparents, foster care, aunts/uncles, etc). your mother may not have been in the most ideal situation when she got pregnant with you + pregnancy could have also been a karmic consequence for not listening to her intuition. regardless, when she knew she was pregnant, there was no way she could give up the opportunity to be a mother. if your mom was physically away from you, she was always there in spirit, praying for you + making sure that you are spiritually protected even if it's just by asking the powers that be to watch over you. like the other water moons, pisces moon mama may have had a traumatic relationship with their mother + may have transferred over that pain into the relationship that you've had with your mom. having a pisces moon mommy is not for the weak, especially if she didn't do her due diligence of karmic clean up, leaving it for you to take responsibility for. pisces moon mamas may also avoid the accountability + the responsibility of being a mother because the weight of motherhood is just too heavy, especially if she has lack of support, which often times they do. regardless of how your relationship is with mom, the energetic bond runs so deep as you are strongly karmically bound in order for certain karmic missions to be completed. definitely not the most reliable mom, but at the end of the day, it will forever be all love when it comes to her children. it's best to just accept her as is - whatever has transpired is not your fault, but it is your responsibility to do better for your own life.

[haine-kleine]

i thought the ending couldn't be more disappointing and then this japanese tweet proved me wrong

because all of this is true. Ochako and Izuku will never forget Toga and Tenko and half of their epilogue was about this, however messily done. Ochako dedicated herself to creating better conditions for people like Toga, because she saw how badly Toga was suffering and despite failing to save her and give her a brighter future, she committed to building that future on her own, selflessly gifting it to others. Izuku had failed to save Tenko despite wanting to, and this weights on his conscience eight years later, and will continue to haunt him in the form of Shigaraki's ghost watching him, not letting him forget himself in the happy ending of joining his hero classmates and achieving his dream.

it's still messy and unfaithful as fuck, but at least these two endings still show that the consequences were there. the unfair deaths of the villains weren't simply swept under the rug and forgotten after a few sad talks about them.

and the thing these two cases share in common? Ochako and Izuku really didn't owe it to Toga and Shigaraki to save them. they didn't. they were hero kids thrown in the middle of the war these very villains waged on them. they both were younger than their respective villains, they both were hurt by these villains, they had no prior history with them, and having shared a few conversations was enough to make them emphasize with and humanize the villains. nothing that happened to Himiko and Tenko was inflicted on them by Ochako and Izuku, and yet just seeing that, hearing about that was enough to ignite sympathy in their hearts. because, you know, they are heroes. they are there to save people from suffering. and even when those people are the ones actively hurting them and their friends, they are mature enough to set that aside and attempt to save their human lives.

enter the star of the show, the only character in this story who despite having committed truly villainous acts, is allowed to go consequences free without a single care in the world. Enji. the person who had single-handedly fucked Touya up to the point his mental state was too messed up even for AFO to deal with. he had given life to this baby, and he was constantly made aware of how badly his attitude is affecting this child by Rei. and he couldn't be bothered to do anything for him, not even to look at him. the fire on Sekoto was 100% Enji's fault, not only because he couldn't be bothered to come visit his son on his day off when Touya had asked him to, but also because the number two hero on his day off was too slow to come to the forest near his house to save Touya from the fire or from All for One. this makes Touya being kept under AFO's care for the following 3 years Enji's responsibility, as he was the only one who could have saved Touya from AFO. even after Touya wakes up from his coma and immediately runs to his house as fast as he can, it's Enji's behaviour alone that makes him decide against making his presence known to the family for the following 7 years. this excuse of a father can't even mourn the death of a son he explicitly blames himself for in such way that won't make his entire existence feel meaningless to him.

and after Touya reveals himself to Enji personally as Dabi? he proves that he still hasn't changed at all and utterly fails to do anything about the situation while Shouto has to repeatedly remind him of it. not only was he procrastinating, the narrative was coddling him the entire time, with the support of other heroes and sidekicks, who despite being shown the truth about Enji, choose to ignore it. even the family he has been abusing for years, the family who was mourning Touya together, joins their efforts to support Enji.

Touya's only desires were to be seen and to be heard. both went unanswered, as after showing the world the unfiltered truth of the misery his father had caused to him, the world covered their earths and turned away. after showing himself to his family, they keep looking at Enji, not at him.

even at the very end, the end of the family's hell is more about Enji than about any other character. he is the only one allowed to talk about his feelings in depth, while the rest of them are reduced to barebone imitations of their previously established characters used as props for supporting Enji's character resolution (with the exception of Touya, who is physically unable to speak for longer than 5 minutes a day anymore. wow). even Natsuo cutting off Enji is less about the latter being a horrible excuse of a father and more about Enji's great stoicism accepting everything the family throws at him with a heroic face. Rei's character no longer makes sense because exactly a month ago her mental state and the trauma inflicted on her by this very man didn't allow her to face him at all. and now she is suddenly okay with becoming his caretaker? why is she taking her responsibility for Touya and not talking about Enji's responsibility at all? this was a man who had abused her so badly she had a psychotic episode. you don't just shrug off things like this. you don't sit in a psychiatric ward for ten years after that, waiting to be let out and jump on the first chance of making yourself useful for your abuser. you don't set aside the relationships with the children he had hurt and he had made you hurt to devote yourself fully to your damn abuser. someone take this poor woman out of this Stockholm syndrome relationship.

at this point Touya not being allowed to die is the worst offence, because the survival wasn't granted to him to heal. it was given to him for the singular purpose of making Endeavor look slightly less bad. Enji never even talks about failing to save Touya (and neither is Shouto allowed to). if you wanted to save him, then him being stuck immobile and isolated from the world with only months left to live is not 'the time Shouto gave us with him' it's a failure. he's not your damn pet, why is the narrative making him into one?

Touya had wanted to die. Shouto points this out, Touya himself talks about it. Enji was the one who didn't want him to die. he also didn't want to die himself. somehow, his desire is the only one that is fulfilled, while even Shouto's dream of eating soba with his older brother goes ignored.

and afterwards? Enji happily moves on from this with the new family he had found for himself, while Touya's childhood desire of his family looking at him is fulfilled in the most grotesque way possible. and the family's dream of having a home away from Endeavor? not a chance lmao

[itsabouttimex2]

so what’s your thoughts on season 5 (PS you can find S5 on YouTube dub ) , any thoughts, any yandere hcs ?

Yandere Headcanons

Nüwa, Li Jing, Xiangliu

Nüwa doesn’t necessarily wish to stifle her dear child, but… you’re staying. Even if it breaks your heart beyond measure to be locked up in a dull little realm with no other souls to interact… well, so be it. Your mother has more than enough love for you, doesn’t she? Why should she need to cut you loose when you’re the safest you could be by her godly side?

She can be more than enough for you, after all.

Nüwa’s absolute favorite thing to do is wrap you up in her tail for naps, keeping you nice and cozy as she dotes on your slumbering form. She could easily spend hours pressing kisses to your cheeks and forehead, or rubbing your back with her gentle palm.

If you’re a naga like her, expect an endless amount of tail-based affection. Polishing, washing, intertwining… it never ends.

There’s definitely a lot of coddling that borders on infantilizing, like trying to feed you by spoon, reading you to sleep, or holding you in a cradle position and insisting upon frequent naps. Calling her out on it will lead her to back off, sure… but Nüwa will start to play several of the more manipulative cards in her arsenal in the hope that you’ll retract your statements and apologize, and go back to being her “good little baby”.

She’s not even trying to be weird, here- she just doesn’t really understand anything about you. After all, she’s spent aeons separated from her creations, Nüwa doesn’t really comprehend mortal mindsets.

All she understands is “Baby!Y/N was happier and more obedient than Current!Y/N”, and shifts her methods to try and get you back to that behavior- without understanding that babies and teens/adults are going to have fundamentally different reactions to having a spoon of banana mush jammed into their face.

Though, if your discomfort expressed goes beyond mild embarrassment and into genuine distress, she’ll happily drop the worst aspects of the smothering- Nüwa really does want her darling child to be happy, after all.

Although stern and demanding, Li Jing is genuinely very adoring of you. His love is more “low-key” than most yanderes, but still present. He can tamp it down by focusing on his work in the Celestial Realm, trying to neglect you… but it never lasts.

Your father’s affection for you is almost always subtle, performed softly and discreetly. Rather than overtly obsessive and flashy displays, his love takes a quieter, more restrained form. This low-key affection is demonstrated in the form of “small” touches. Fixing your hair. Dusting your clothes. Righting accessories. Little scraps of skinship that allow him to maintain a somewhat loving demeanor without tarnishing his reputation among the court.

He’s strict with your appearance and especially with your clothing, firmly dictating how you dress. Nothing low-cut or even mildly revealing is allowed, of course. Expect lots of fancy ceremonial garbs that swallow you up entirely.

Gifts usually comprise of sanctioned books or tools for “appropriate” hobbies, such as sewing, sculpting, or knitting. Anything that’s time-consuming without being too dangerous. About the “worst” hobby you’re allowing is alchemist, because it’s useful to the court and you’ll be working with Lao Tzu. Maybe you could blacksmith, if you’ve proven yourself mature and obedient.

You will be watched at all times, under the eyes of Li Jing himself or one of your three elder brothers, kept under lock and key.

Though, when you start to visibly wilt and deteriorate from pressure and stress, Jinzha and Muzha will cut you some slack and allow you a little bit of freedom- potentially even spiriting you down to the Mortal Realm for a day of exploration and relaxation. These trips are saved for worse days so you don’t get too used to them, but both of your brothers adore the way you cheer up at something like a simple bowl of fresh noodles from a street vendor.

(Ne Zha is not allowed to come, because he’s so desperate for his father’s love that he updates Jing on what everyone does. Snitch.)

I don’t think it’s very likely to Xiangliu to have a bio kid, but let’s play with the idea here-

It’s implied, to a mild degree, that our Nine-Headed Demon faces some level of desire to be accepted for who he is and what he wants. He lashes out when referred to as a monster, sympathizes with MK’s near lack of control over his fate, advocates for people making their own decisions…

Xiangliu conformed once, returned to order and away from chaos. And he was called a monster and rejected for it.

So there is literally zero percent chance that he’ll risk it happening again with, of all things, his own child.

He plays up the “loving papa” angle hard, essentially welding you to his side from the very moment of birth. Carrying you on his hip, swaddling you in his cape… anything to cradle the precious life bestowed upon him. As you grow older, he actively uses the manifestations of his chaos energies to create “soft” restraints.

Orange-tinged straps of black all bound around you, snugly conforming to the build of your frame, each lash pulsing with aching primordial unrest…

And it’s all to make one of these:

And it might seem silly of him to do (and it is, a little) but it also eases you into a life where chaos is everywhere and everything. You won’t question it for even a second, the constant snaking of wispy tendrils, the throb of a primal power, the sheer wrongness of being steeped in chaos as a bedtime ritual, or having it mixed into your drinks and food each meal…

But it happens anyways, and it’s been happening since the very day of your birth.

So you won’t ever question it.

After all, doesn’t your papa know best?