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#'bad role models' left a bad taste in my mouth
sendmyresignation · 9 months
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something I've been thinking about lately. i do think it's incredibly telling that almost 80 percent of the conversations around 'gatekeeping' and 'posers' and shit end up just becoming vitriolic hatred of 'alt girls' like i hate shit spotify playlists and dollskill fake leather edge and tiktok recommendations as much as the next person but this is a very big attitude coming from a website full of people who spent their formative middle school years shopping at hot topic for multi-colored skinny jeans while listening to like. falling in reverse or 21p unironically (this is a self-own btw). first of all teenagers having shit taste isn't killing punk music. but also why is the object of your hatred always boil down to a woman faking it? as if it isn't the single oldest stereotype in heavy music? like am i insane for thinking this is an issue
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fortuna-et-cataclysmos · 10 months
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In defense of s5 finale
I hear and see a lot of people expressing dislike of the season finale, some also in the tags and comments of my analysis/speculation posts. So I wanted to further expand on this.
Gabriel's victory -being remembered a hero despite everything wrong he did, especially abuse to Adrien- has left a sour taste in many people's mouth; many blaming the scenarists and not shying away from calling it "bad writing."
But I think that that was exactly what the scenarists wanted to do? The perfect world Gabriel leaves behind is unsettling, unfair, and I think that the creators have done their best to show that implicitly but clearly. I think that we are supposed to be irked by the finale.
Why do I think that? Because there were a lot of small things that gave the message that, as @emsylcatac iconically put it, "this is the bad place." I touched upon some of those in my previous post on how this was a victory for Gabriel and Lila, and a defeat for Ladybug. I'll try to list them more clearly here.
Gabriel a hero
This is the one thing everyone has the most problem with. At the end, Gabriel was declared the hero who gave his life to defeat the Monarch, who was none other than himself. Some artistic choices here are so over the top that I believe they were specifically made to irk us.
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If the silver statue itself wasn't enough, the exact quote of Caline Bustier is:
All the rings that have been highjacked by the Monarch have been recycled into a statue in honour of the great Gabriel Agreste.
Then Tsurugi Tomoe goes on to say:
Beyond the visionary entrepreneur and genius creator that he was, we are celebrating a hero today.
See, everything bad about Gabriel has been flipped. If you count literally exploiting people visionary entrepreneurship, sure, he was that. And genius? He couldn't get the miraculouses of two teenagers for an entire year despite having all the resources, and he ended up succeeding only with the help of another extremely powerful person (Tsurugi Tomoe) and even then he ended up dying himself.
As of creator, he was literally a destructor. He destroyed Paris more times than anyone can count, and everything was fixed every time only thanks to Ladybug. Let's not also forget how he destroyed the Miraculouses to exploit their power.
Adrien's comment about his father
This is another thing many people have had problem with. It is so outrageous that I won't believe the creators would expect us to take at face value.
At the end, Adrien acknowledges that his father died to take down the Monarch, and says:
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I don't know if one day I'll manage to become like him.
Lo and behold, the man who had emotionally neglected and abused his son to no end has turned into the said son's hero and role model. Adrien not only looks up to him, but also wants to make an active effort to become like him. Hell, he even doubts if he can be as good as him.
No way this line can taken at face value. There are many children's shows with abusive parental figures nowadays (like She-Ra and the Princesses of Power, the Owl House) that have all handled the conclusion to that abuse generally well. The watchers' expectations are high in this respect; the scenarists would know that such conclusion, if not ironic, would not satiate the expectations of the spectators.
Lack of accountability: Gabriel and Tomoe
As many many people have pointed out, the general lack of accountability in this season finale is infuriating. So Gabriel mentally tortured THE ENTIRE WORLD POPULATION and not only never faced consequences in life, but also is remembered as a hero in death?
What about Tomoe?
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Not only she has not faced any repercussion for being basically a supervillain, but also she is still a respected public figure who can go and make a speech backed by the mayor, in front of the freaking French flag. If that doesn't irk you, I don't know what will.
Worse is that, she goes as far as saying in her speech that:
I'll make sure to continue his legacy.
So she'll continue to be evil. Great hint that she'll continue being an antagonist in season 6.
As you can see, the new world that has been created is extremely unfair and problematic. No way this can be "the good place," an actual "happy ending."
Everything is fixed! No problems anymore!
Also, you'd realise that the world is perfect, a little too perfect. It is like a green utopian dream.
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Caline Bustier has been the mayor "only for a few weeks" (direct quote from the episode), and she has already fixed all the problems possible in Paris. Not only that, she has also solved inequality and class struggle (again, mentioned by herself). Let's make Caline the President of the World already.
Funny that LITERALLY ALL THE PROBLEMS of a city could be solved, while the exact same episode showed Majestia, the freaking Supergirl of the ML universe, acknowledged in her nightmare that:
Even with all my superpowers, I'll never manage to solve all the problems of the world.
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Well, Bustier says that she has no superpower, that people working together can accomplish that. Kudos to her and her democratic spirit. But like, perfect city in a few weeks? Even Mayor Bourgeois who wanted to send all the trash of Paris to space would realise that that's impossible.
There is no perfect solution, yet the world is perfect
Ladybug acknowledges that there is no perfect solution to Gabriel's situation. Trying to bring back his wife, he has caused irreparable damage to himself and to Nathalie, effectively leaving Adrien an orphan. He still hopes that Ladybug can fix it all. But she can't because of the nature of the wish: for one thing gained, another thing should be lost. In Ladybug's words:
There is no perfect wish. Every time a power is used for personal gain, it causes catastrophes. (...) We'll find a solution, but it will never be as perfect as one would wish.
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Interesting, given that the world ends up being completely perfect?
All the problems are solved, literally everyone is happy, Marinette and Adrien are finally together. But the wish was made for personal gain, no? So where are the consequences? Where is equivalent exchange? The catastrophe, the price of the perfect, green, just world? I think we'll see that in season 6.
The dream world
The new world is seriously giving me weird vibes. Like it is a movie set. For those who have watched The Good Place, you'd know how in the town everything feels a bit too bright, artificial, perfect. I get the same vibes from the post-wish world.
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The Agreste mansion is covered by green vines?? Way to hide the atrocities that were planned and happened here.
Here is a screengrab I found on the internet from The Good Place (the ladybug is a funny coincidence lol)
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I am getting the exact same vibes!
Also, I have expanded on that in my post on "running out of time" theme, but basically in the ML universe usually the "real" stuff are associated with the night and the rain while things that happen in the sun turn out to be fake or erased/forgotten. So the feeling that I get from this finale is that, this new "perfect" world is not genuine; that the seeming happiness it brings will be soon destroyed (I doubt erased), just as it happened in other fake reality episodes like Chat Blanc, Ephemeral, Oblivio, or Jubilation. As I argued before, this is not a permanent victory. Hell, it isn't even a real victory, not with the secret Marinette is left to keep from Adrien.
Not a real victory
Another thing that makes me think that this ending is not genuine is the lack of Chat Noir in the finale. Yes, I am a fervent Ladynoir stan who was hoping for some Ladynoir action (if not reveal) and was hugely disappointed by the lack of Chat's engagement in the final fight, but now that I think of it, this may have been on purpose.
Notice how in Conformation, Ladybug says:
Our only way to win against him is to fight him together.
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And yet, soon thereafter, she is catapulted into a fight with the Monarch.
Notice also it wasn't her choice to unify the miraculouses and face the Monarch alone. She had to, because Chat Noir wasn't there.
Let's remember that this show spent the entire season 4 explaining how Ladybug assuming all the responsibility alone leads to disaster, how she needs Chat Noir to share the burden with him.
Let's also remember how in season 5, especially at the beginning of it, we see Ladybug change her behaviour towards Chat Noir: she gives him more responsibilities (the Bunny Miraculous, the identity of certain holders if I am not mistaken), and how at one point she confesses that Chat Noir has been very serious and responsible lately (and then promptly develops a crush on him).
So taking on the Monarch herself is really against everything they have built up in season 4 and the beginning of season 5. That's why I think that this "victory" is so wrong: it was "won" only by Ladybug. Maybe if Chat Noir were there, he would have prevented the Monarch from making the wish (hypothetically, then we would have an entirely different timeline). If his identity were revealed the way Marinette's was, Gabriel could have controlled him through his amok. In any case, their defeat or victory would have looked very different from this.
In the end, we must remember that this world is far from being a victory for Ladybug: she has, after all, LOST. She couldn't stop Gabriel from making the wish. And while this world looks perfect, and we got what seems like a forever happy after ending for Adrinette, their happiness is set in a non-genuine victory and world.
So I think we shouldn't be angry with the show-runners: there is a reason why this ending feels and is wrong. If it were all wonderful, it wouldn't be the season finale. It would be the finale, period. And I believe that everything that has been disturbing us in this season finale will be addressed, if not consist of the core conflict of season 6. Let's all take a deep breath and turn to fan fiction or fan art till we get the new season now :) (at least that's what I'll do lol)
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hueningshaped · 2 years
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★ limelight | c.yj
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▰ genre: fluff and angst (sorta) - there’s a lot and nothing going on at the same time
▰ word count: 4.4k
▰ synopsis: you show up to one of yeonjun’s grand parties at his grand estate and you find you’re the only one who actually showed up + yeonjun is a big softie but has a bad reputation </3
a/n: i started writing this bc i saw this interview and it got away from me… i feel like a bad person for writing this but anyways im getting worse and worse with titling these things idk what to do hhhh also i realized too late that i made him to be like gatsby and i was too lazy to fix or elaborate that i apologize for this ! this sat in my drafts for far too long and well i just wanted something published >_&lt;
When the school year began, kicking off your first semester at this brand new university, you knew little to nothing about Choi Yeonjun and his reputation, let alone where your classes were.
From the chatter that always seemed to filter around you, no matter where you were in the campus, talk about this guy would range from little compliments to extreme accusations of things you’d never even dream of knowing.
You hadn’t planned on making friends or hanging out with said friends, so these internal affairs didn’t appeal to you. This was how your school career here was supposed to go.
Things changed when your schedule suddenly could no longer afford a certain class at a certain time, so last minute, almost two weeks in, you were thrust into an entire new class for this one elective.
Things further remixed when your professor practically forced you to partner up and form groups with those around you, much to your dissatisfaction. (You struggled to socialize, even if the matters at hand were merely for school.)
To your astonishment, Yeonjun was by far amongst the popular, or in high demand of other students wanting to partner up. You knew little about him, but it seemed even then he was a magnet for popularity. The situation just made you feel like a child again,
That day, when he and you made eye contact, you realized he was also remarkably beautiful. Tall, handsome, proportionate, pretty, bright, and surprisingly pretty funny. He had it all. He was friends with everyone. It just seemed that he was a star, the star.
Professor Kwon seemed to have had enough of these childish antics and decided to take matters into her own hands.
“Y/N,” she called, earning the eyes of other students. It seemed as though that had been the first time anyone had registered your presence. And not with open arms, might you add. “I see that you’re unfortunately running a bit behind, since you just transferred in, and that’s okay! To get you caught up and for extra help and guidance, I’d like you to partner up with Yeonjun. Yeonjun?”
If anything could be made from the way his eyes found and trained on you, you knew for a fact that Yeonjun stared.
He blinked owlishly before being met with your back once you turned away from him.
That had been the first chance meeting; class had ended before he could assume a seat beside you, the one where your backpack had been. Nonetheless, you had seemed adamant about spending as little time as possible with Yeonjun.
Life’s deck of cards did not fold in your favor.
He sat beside you everyday. Not only that, you realized that he was the type of person to reach out constantly; he initiated conversations, hangouts, discussion, complimented your nails or jewelry, even your stationary. The stark contrast between him and you left you with an odd taste in your mouth.
Weeks blurred into canvases of months, and you noticed more that he remained firm in his role to show you around campus, ensure that you were caught up, or that you were doing well, even if he would miss more questions on a test or quiz than you. It was puzzling, but a part of you welcomed it, even if you were set on not getting attached, especially to the guy that was everywhere—fashion club (in which he would model for the others quite often, for the arranged fashion shows, and if you could count how often he made you meet him there for group work, you’d be comfortably wealthy), pottery club, dance classes, culinary classes, etc.
It seemed inevitable that you’d come across him. A part of that was why you hadn’t been unable to turn down the party invitation he himself handed to you along with a humble bouquet of flowers and gift card for a cafe you had mentioned you enjoyed.
Despite the grandeur of the building before you, the bass of the music vibrating the walls, the stringlike straps of the gift bag in your hand weighing and drawing pained lines into your palm, the grip of an uncomfortably dressy outfit, you find yourself shocked at the revelation that you can’t bring yourself to leave. It would just take a few steps to perfectly turn away and start your descent. In fact, it would require an insanely less amount of effort to come down as you had come up.
Yet, the excuses that you’ve had kept in your pockets in use for lack of attendance were out. You’d lived your entire life this way, and it amazed you that even now, you were under the impression you were able to recycle the excuses that have kept you the way that you are: home-bodied, comfortable.
But at the same time, you wondered, if you were to quickly zip off into the sunset and just text him that something had come up, what exactly would you be missing?
A buzz from the elevator tethered and pulled you back down to earth. You could make a break for it, if you really wanted to. There was a cute cafe just down the street that you’d passed that seemed worth visiting; you could catch a seat in the far corner, so there wouldn’t be a chance in hell anyone could prove you were even in the area.
A tumble and click of the door’s locks whipped your head back to the now open door where you saw your beautiful classmate. The usual features jumped out to you: his height, piercings, luscious lips, that unnervingly gorgeous twinkle of the mole below his eye, and his heavy but welcoming cologne.
“Y/N,” Yeonjun called your name so cheerfully it took you by surprise. “You came.”
Now, with a change of setting, lighting, and proximity, there was more to meet your eye: he did his hair, the eyeshadow around his eyes was a brilliant idea, the subtle lines of his neck, the twitch of his now widening smile, the blush settling over the tips of his ears — since when did his Adam’s apple bob so much?
Reality settled enough now for you to see the surprising amount of illumination from behind his figure.
“Y/N,” he said again, a little weaker but still rich in enthusiasm, which made you laugh. That seemed to sober him up, too. “You came.”
There was something in his tone, in the lilt, in the almost hushed descent of volume that raised a nebulous implication. You opened your mouth to speak, but only for all words to elude you with his next statement.
“Hey, it’s like the first time seeing you in this color or something,” you looked down at your near-uncomfortable outfit with a frown itching your features.
“What makes you say that?” You asked aloud, unaware that your back was now to the closed door, and you were inside. A place that felt like what the second home of a millionaire must look like with the high ceilings, echo of your voices, and the shine of every surface possible.
He tilted his head, letting a few strands of hair fall over his brow before regaining composure.
“It really suits you. You’re really good looking,” your mouth went dry at that. Even if you could form a sentence, you weren’t sure of what to say. Who in their right mind said that so easily?
“Oh! Let me take that from you,” when he reached down to take the gift bag, your fingers jostled beside his, and it shocked you enough to shiver. “Wow, really sweet of you to have brought something.”
He said it more to himself, eyes twinkling and the apples of his cheeks so high.
As you followed and tried to keep the staring to a minimum, there was a pressing weight that wouldn’t leave you be. Even when a maid, you assumed, had helped you into a nice set of slippers (which you were going to definitely replace your other pair with), there was something off that you couldn’t quite your finger on. Not in a skin crawling way. Just something amiss, but you paid it no heed.
The music had significantly lowered from when you were at the front step, when the very beat had intervened your own heart’s, down to the minimal volume stemming still from the room you walked closer and closer to.
As you entered the kitchen, which overlooked what you assumed to be the living room and a living space that was about the same size as your own apartment, it all came to you. A little shudder itched down from your ears to your ankles.
There was no one else here.
Maybe you were too early. Maybe you got the dates mixed up. Maybe everyone just left, and you, by some chance, missed a large crowd going the opposite way you came. But, it didn’t change the fact that there wasn’t a soul in the suite.
Shuffling resonated behind you, along with a defeated, almost tired sigh. You turned to it, your heart stumbling at the means of the situation.
Yeonjun leaned his body against the marble counter. It lifted his cardigan off his body, so you could catch the gleam of his luxurious looking belt. Gucci, maybe? Something expensive, that was all you knew. Despite his fancy outfit, and the runway-ready look of makeup that was set on his remarkably beautiful face, it couldn’t shake the fact that his expression was downcast due to the matter at hand.
What a beautiful person. It seemed futile to even consider or humor the idea that no one appreciated Yeonjun—more than the objectively, unbiased charm of his appearance; his obvious abyss of money; his sportsmanship; personality that had to have been molded from a mother and father who loved their only son with all of their hearts.
Of course, people had to see beyond his pretty face, right?
“Yeah, I know,” he let out halfheartedly, chuckling with a pained smile: the sardonic tone was in reference to the lack of guests.
You weren’t sure what to say, really. It was clear he hadn’t an idea either, only choosing to state the obvious. There were dozens of pathways that could be taken on dozens of things that could be said in this moment. So, you opted for —
“What did you have in mind to do tonight?”
His smile only blossomed from there.
Aside from the buffet of food readied and arranged in a beautiful way on the table, which became of the object of most your stolen glances for the night, the fun for the night seemed never ending. There were drinks available due to a bar within the pool house, which was, of course, behind the actual pool, but that was hardly the beginning of all that was available to you.
You learned a lot about Yeonjun throughout the games and eating.
However, you felt that the starkest revelations about your classmate were made when the sun had officially taken its place beneath the clouds that were practically high tide. The moon was full enough that you could see its dimples and craters; this observation was enough of a distraction from the fact that the proximity between you two was nearly too close for comfort.
You and Yeonjun now sat at the edge of the pool with your feet in, a gentle breeze wading through the air and erupting ripples that would make the water lift a little higher up your legs.
The light chatter that had been resonating from the height of the games you had played or when you had snacked had settled into complete silence. Surprisingly, it wasn’t uncomfortable; this was something you’d come to put two and two together. Even when you both would study together, the bouts of quietude never felt unnerving to you. It felt natural.
Despite the serenity of it all, Yeonjun’s constant fiddling with his fingers gave you the impression he had something on his mind.
“This doesn’t always happen if you’re wondering,” he laughed cynically, kicking at the water. “I’m just surprised it was you that showed up.”
The longer you wait to assemble all that you wish to convey, it became easier to see how far his heart was traveling south.
“You didn’t think I was going to show up?” You asked and he choked lightly on one of his little laughs. It was moreso out of the fact you didn’t want to say anything he didn’t want to say.
“No, no… well, I thought you’d be the last person to ever show up for me. It means a lot,” he sighed again, and the air just became so taut you couldn’t ignore it.
“Yeonjun, is it okay if I ask why no one showed up. I mean, you invited the upperclassmen, too. And those guys practically worship you… You always go to their parties, but the one time you throw one and…”
Your words died in your throat. He craned his neck, stretching his neck as he leaned his head back. What a beautiful person.
He tilted his head to meet eyes with you, lids relaxed, but there was that smile dry of any hope. A drought.
“Oh, come on. Don’t tell me you fall for that act, too,” he sighed, like it exhausted him.
“What ‘act’? Is-do you mean…” your words died in your throat, and at that moment, he glanced up towards you again, eyes unwavering in their almost cautious gaze. You cleared your throat. “What? They just use you?”
Your tone was a blunt pierce into his back. It could be seen in his wince that squeezed at his eyes. He nodded.
“I felt like you knew by now. I mean, everyone does,” he exhaled, kicking his legs around. A chill wracked his body. “Still doesn’t stop me from hoping, which I see now is pathetic.”
You stared hard at his cuffed jeans, chest filling endlessly with something as heavy as dread but as dense as remorse. You weren’t sure.
“That’s why you were surprised I came?”
A part of you cracked, like a glass of fine china getting nicked.
“I don’t mean to appeal to you for pity. I realize, again, I’m hosting my own literal pity party, and you’re the only guest,” he leaned forward, elbows settling on his knees to keel forward. “You must be so miserable.”
“Not entirely.” You tried to joke, but as soon as the last syllable left your mouth, you were hit with the piping hot revelation that you are not very funny. He looked up to you, face half hidden by his hair. Eyes dark with possible shock and dejection of your statement.
“I’m kidding, Yeonjun, I’m kidding,” you panicked. He deflated at that.
“It’s just that I honestly had the most fun I’ve had since I got to this school today. Pool party, food, games-I mean, literal games; like are you kidding me?” It was the truth. He sat up pretty quickly. “You said that this doesn’t always happen—what do you mean by that?”
Yeonjun lifted his hand to brush back his hair away from his face.
“Yeah,” he sniffed. “It was when I didn’t have the reputation I have now.”
“Reputation?”
He nodded again but more sullenly. His full lip jutted out, and you curbed the urge to almost coo.
“There’s lots of rumors, some are false. Rarely are they true. But, at the end of the day, when people see me, all they see is a pretty face, maybe, but they see a judgmental, opinionated snob with a lot of money,” Yeonjun paused and you looked at him again. “But, when you get to know me, you’ll just find that I’m a fool, innocent and afraid of a lot of things.”
By now, since the sun had officially taken its place beneath the horizon, his pool lights flipped on and bathed you both from underneath. Distantly, nightingales chirped their twenty something repertoires, unfurling their sweet notes to the darkened sky.
A moment passed before you felt like the song wasn’t in your throat anymore.
“You really are beautiful, you know that?” To your astonishment, he breathed a broken inhale, and he shuffled his posture and eyes around, as if shy from your statement.
“Do you really see me that way?” He asked, tone lifting in something close to hope. When Yeonjun looked at someone, and truly looked, you noticed his eyes shimmer, even by a twinkle at the least.
You nodded with a smile. He mirrored your response.
Another breeze nestled its way past your thin layers of clothes, which ignited a shiver from you. He blinked a few times soberly before immediately rising, water crashing and pouring down his legs over the edge. He now stood, hunched over with an extended arm towards you. Yeonjun looked to you expectantly.
“You must be freezing and uncomfortable. Come, let’s get out and get you in some warm, comfortable clothes.” If anyone else, in any other circumstances, had said that to you, they would have been met with hesitance; this time, you slid your palm into his and allowed him to pull you up and guide you to warmth, even if he himself radiated it in waves.
He knew how to take care of a guest, the way a great host would, even if he had maids, housekeepers, people looking after him. They allowed him to do as he pleased, and he was definitely pleased by taking care of you and helping you around the house as if you lived here.
After the initial shock of the most luxurious shower you have ever taken in your life, you found that there was a change of fresh, warm clothes for you folded neatly on the marble bathroom counter. Somehow, you didn’t hate it; it was just cotton sweats and a cotton t-shirt—both plain and gray, but you could tell they were new. Had you lived in luxury your entire life, you had a feeling these would be purchased straight from the mall, probably priced with triple digits, including taxes.
There was a hairdryer ready at your disposal, but you opted out, almost a little overwhelmed at the fact that every possible need or even want could be met so easily here.
When you found your way back to the main room (you were surprised that you hadn’t gotten lost), Yeonjun was in the living room, scrolling through Netflix mindlessly. Until he perked up at the staccato sliding of your slippers against his pristine floor.
He jumped and smiled as soon as he turned to you, full lips stretched welcomingly. Yeonjun had also changed attire—monochromed flannel over the exact same outfit you had on. The realization that you were matching made your ears and cheeks burn.
“Welcome back,” his tone was quite soft, said in a manner as if he had rehearsed it in his head a few times. “Was everything to your liking? And the clothes?”
You blinked at him a few times, returning a smile to ease his worries.
“Yeah, it was all perfect, Yeonjun. Thank you,” you walked around the couch to take a spot on the other side of the sofa, despite countless other sofas present around you. He immediately relaxed into the cushions at that. “Are you looking for something in particular to watch?”
He gave a short, little laugh: one that made you jump with how genuinely cute you found it. What an adorable guy. Yeah, that was what he was to you.
Apparently, he was looking for a film not on Netflix, so you spent a while looking on almost every streaming service. When it came down to watching the movie, he made sure you were comfortable and hopped off the couch to turn the lights off, even though the nearest butler had offered to do so.
Halfway through, even if the movie had you both confused, one of his many butlers had come in, crouched down to his level in between you to mutter a hushed, “Mr. and Mrs. Choi wanted me to notify you that they will be returning home in half an hour.”
His eyes twinkled again as he gave a little node, lips parting in understanding.
“Oh, okay. Thank you. Was there anything else they wanted to say?”
“No, sir. They had only called to give you notice, so as to not startle you.”
“Okay, thank you!”
He grinned at the butler, watching him walk out. When Yeonjun turned back towards you, you had lowered the volume by a lot and were beaming at him without realizing.
“What?” He asked curiously, and you snickered, losing the fastest staring contest you’d played in your whole life.
“That’s really kind of your parents to do that.” You said with a sigh, one that was done with your whole body. He tilted his head, quickly pausing the movie.
“Yeah, it’s no big deal. They might, um, ask you to stay for dinner or something. I don’t know. Don’t feel obligated to do anything, though. It’s just that - well - they encourage me to throw these parties. After all, it doesn’t hurt anyone.”
You couldn’t help but frown, furrowing your eyebrows.
“Well, that’s…” It was hard to find the words. “Again, that’s really kind. But, it does hurt someone in the end. It hurts you, doesn’t it?”
He laughed again gently, leaning his weight on an elbow and pushing his bangs back from his face.
“It does, but only because no one else has been coming since rumors spread and my reputation got worse. I think one day, things might turn around for me.”
You let out a scoff and leaned on the arm rest to which he perked, eyes shimmering warily.
“What?”
“I don’t get it. I don’t get how you’re still a nice, good person, no matter how unfairly treated—“
It was his turn to scoff, though there was no venom detected.
“I’m not that unfairly treated. I’m an incredibly privileged person, really—“
“Yeonjun, you deserve the world!” You raised your voice a little, and his eyes translated clearly the awestricken feeling that hit him straight in the face.
“Sorry,”
“No, don’t be sorry. Please,” he played with a button on his flannel before looking back up to you hesitantly. “It’s the nicest thing anyone’s said to me — who meant it.”
The movie was quickly progressing, but you had hit mute, so the colors and light from the expansive television washed over you. It was a quiet moment, but it was nice. The two of you smiled at each other, and you weren’t sure for how long, but it had to have been quite some time, considering that that same butler entered again, this time turning a lamp on with him.
“Sir, your mother and father have called to notify you they will be entering within five minutes.”
Yeonjun bid his thanks, watching him walk away and returning his cat eyed gaze to you, to see that you were standing up.
“I should probably get going. I’ve overstayed my welcome.”
He stood with you, shaking his head with that ever present smile on his face.
“No, that’s… I promise that’s not true,” he cleared his throat, swinging one of his arms a little awkwardly. “I can walk you out to your car.”
Halfway to the door, he had even asked, “Are you sure you don’t want my chauffeur to take you home and someone else to drop off your vehicle?”
Of course, he was met with resistance to his question. Yeonjun noted to himself that despite all the silent fights and walls you put up with him, throughout your shared class and the last few months of school you shared with him, you were the one to tear down a few for him.
When you both reached your car, your heart quickened its pace and the ripples of its beat paced heavily in your ears, and you couldn’t figure out why.
Instead of the uncomfortable bag and clothes from before, you held a new gift bag with your belongings in it, but besides that, you felt you also carried a new attitude moreso towards your classmate.
“Well, um… Thank you for having me, Yeonjun.” You grinned at him, sweetly showed your teeth, to which he dimpled shyly, as if he felt sheepish about the red creeping on the tips of his ears.
After a brief beat of silence, his eyes confronted yours and he outstretched a hand to you.
Without thinking, which was probably a good thing, you slipped your hand into his, admiring the warmth and placement of his lines, the lengths of his digits, when he brought the backside of your palm to his mouth shakily. His full lips pressed a tender kiss that surged and electrified all the wires in your brain that made you shiver. He let go with another shy but sure smile.
“Thank you for showing up for me, Y/N.”
He watched you open your door after you had hesitated and struggled with the lock, but you hadn’t stepped in yet. Yeonjun arched an eyebrow.
“We should do this more often. Would you want to hang out again?” You asked, and his face dropped. What were those eyes thinking?
“Yeah,” he cleared his throat and nodded. Nodded again and another time after that.
“Sounds good. And since you have my number, we can text, too,” you smiled, and he also noted that it showed in your eyes this time. “Well, I’ll see you in class tomorrow, Jun.”
Even if the surface seemed as simple as a pavement, Yeonjun felt stunned, seeing the dirt, the ants, the roots of earth, the mantle of the world beneath his feet.
“Please text me when you get home safely, okay?”
You nodded, chest blossoming.
“I will,” Tonight would be the beginning of your real friendship with Yeonjun, who was now more than just your classmate. You vowed to remain by his side, to protect him, to cherish him, to put yourself out there for him in ways he did so naturally for you, to introduce new things to him, but most importantly, to be there for him.
Maybe you would finally be able to tell him how you feel since you don’t think you can imagine the next semester without him in one of your classes, but for tonight, and foremost, you would be his (first) friend.
“I promise.”
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edalynn · 2 months
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https://twitter.com/MikeCatSU/status/1758028067526820170?t=I3jgGLz0AVE5_G99dXv3cw&s=19 OMFG CHECK THIS OUT. THE STUPID ASS HL KISS WASN'T EVEN IN THE SCRIPT I'M ????
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I. I don't know how to nicely or politely say that that is one of the most self righteous, disrespectful things I've ever seen. I'm unfortunately not surprised, seeing as Mike is THE most disrespectful storyboard artists that works at Disney, constantly skirting around creators' wishes and scripts to push his own visions and ships and having to be told over and over to tone shit down or take it out of storyboards for it. But what more can you expect from a guy that worked on Steven Universe- you know, the show that had so many disrespectful and button-pushing storyboard artists & crew that we had a whole fucking scandal about one trying to force lapidot into the show. He clearly didn't have very good role models 🙃 Either way, that shows that it still, clearly, isn't canon and that this guy is just THAT disrespectful that he waited until Dana no longer had rights to the show and what Disney made and posted from it & the characters to finally, finally forcibly add his own personal ship into an actual published TOH work. Because he'd been trying to do it the entire time the show was airing, with Dana constantly telling him to take it out or tone it down (along with other storyboard artists as well). He waited until Dana could no longer tell him to take it out/was no longer the one making the final call since she's been very vocal about moving on from Disney and TOH since they own the rights now. Really fucking disrespectful and stuck up IMO. I've never liked this guy, he's always left a bad taste in my mouth and gave me for a lack of better ways to explain it "brony vibes" lmao. So genuinely I am not at ALL surprised by this.
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urmumsdrycooch · 2 years
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TᗯO-Iᑎ-OᑎE ᖴOOT'ᑎ'ᗩᔕᔕ ᑕᖇEᗩᗰ
Steph Gingrich x Fem!Reader
Summary: You and Steph reminisce over your Blackwell days.
Warnings: Swearing, mention of Rachel and Chloe’s death.
The news had just hit Steph and me, and ever since the phone call two hours ago we've been sitting in silence in Steph's apartment. Chloe and Rachel, the two used to be our friends. Once we heard about Rachel's disappearance, we assumed she took off to be the Hollywood persona she was. That's what we hoped. But, dead in the ground of a junkyard, it's fucking disgusting.
I know Steph left Arcadia to get away from all of life's bullshit, to escape its effect on her. Even though she shared good times whilst there, it was too much for her. And now, somehow, someway, I've managed to find my way back to her. Then this happens. Karma's a bitch.
I never got on with Chloe, we'd try to stay away from each other. I always thought of her disrespect and rudeness as uncalled for, even after hearing about her past. We'd argue when I call her out for it and Rachel being the hero she is, was. She'd bring the peace again as if it were magic. Rachel and I were close, I'm sure at some point I liked her in a more-than-a-friend way. But who wouldn't? This is Rachel Amber we're talking about.
Though I do remember mine and Mikey's curiosity over Steph's attraction to the girl, we never dared to question it though.
These positive thoughts of the two friends I loved now fill my mind. The fact their lives were taken from them before they had the chance to live, to escape shitty Arcadia Bay and get out into the real world. Chloe was going to be some punk car mechanic or tattoo artist. Rachel was going to be a model, actress, singer, dancer, you name it and Rachel Amber will be perfect at it. We'd all keep in contact, go out for drinks, live together, and do cool shit like that.
A rage I attempted to control flows through my veins, forcing my hand across the kitchen counter and whacking off my glass of water. My breathing remains heavy while I watch the glass shatter, and then the water that begins to spill over the floor.
I feel Steph's hand on my shoulder, trying to calm me down, and surprisingly, it does. She leads me over to her couch then she wanders off to clean up the mess I made. "Sorry," I mutter.
In my peripheral vision, I watch Steph shuffle around the kitchen getting up the glass while allowing my fingers to massage my temples as my face falls into my hands.
Once the mess was cleaned up, Steph takes a seat next to me and releases a heavy sigh. "Remember Warren?" She questions, confusing me for a second.
"Yeah, I do..." I answer, awaiting to find out what she was on about.
"Well, what was that all about?" She lightly chuckles with a curious eyebrow quirked.
"Huh?" I respond, the girl frying my brain.
"You two were definitely hooking up." The assumption that left her mouth sent me into a choking fit.
"Steph, what are you on?" I question.
"Warren would always bail on our DnD sessions saying, 'Oh, I'm meeting Y/n in her dorm.' So, that could only mean one thing. And if I'm being honest Y/n, I thought you had a better taste than that, bad enough him being a male." She explains.
I fall back into the couch, palming my face. "Oh my God."
"What?" She laughs
"He was tutoring me."
"Oh, so you're into role-play, no wonder you're LARP character was so accur-"
"Steph!" I shout, covering her mouth with my hand. "In science, he was tutoring me in science... and math too. I was doing like, worryingly bad, and I had to do something before my parents found out. Ms Grant suggested getting a tutor, so Warren offered."
"Okay, at least you weren't sleeping with that nerd." She huffs, her once suspicion now proven a lie.
"Yeah, on that topic. How about your little wet fantasy for Rachel. The single most obvious thing ever." I laugh, and Steph immediately goes red.
"That wasn't like that, she- well I li- no- It doesn't matter!" She blurts out in embarrassment.
We return to the silence again, enjoying the aftermath of the previous moment. All until I hear Steph release a huff, "I had a little thing for you too, you know." She admits.
All of a sudden, my breathing stopped, it felt like my blood flow froze, my heart malfunctioned, and my whole existence was put on hold. No way, she couldn't have. I saw the way she looked at Rachel, it's not possible.
"Maybe even more than I did Rachel," Steph adds, with a slightly amused tone, as if it was only a recent realisation. I gather myself, fixing my posture and clearing my throat.
"Really?" I ask, curious to find more of this. Shit, maybe I sounded too curious.
"Yeah." She assured me, slightly more urgent this time, maybe she shared too much? Maybe I could, I don't know... return the favour.
"You remember that one Valentine's day, you got that bouquet of flowers," I mention, this should be good.
"Yeah, I was fully convinced it was secretly Rachel, but obviously it wasn't." She sighs disappointed.
"What about it?" She asks, bringing her knee up on the couch to rest the side of her face on.
I let my hands fall into my lap, my thumbs fiddling as I think of a response. "Uh, well- I sent them." A small silence falls between us once again. "I was also the one that dyed the sprinkler system and fountain pink that day, and the whole Principle Wells lifetime supply of gingernut two-in-one foot'n'ass cream gift thing, yeah that was me too."
"That was all you?" She questions cheerfully, eyes wide open with a beaming smile, "Damn, that got me out of like two tests, I could kiss you!"
I freeze, my smile frozen solid, and Steph's hands rested on my shoulders. Her smile remains big, slowly falling into less of a joyful one and into more of a lovingly one. I feel her fingers begin to twitch on my forearm, forming goosebumps on my skin. "Can I?"
My mouth falls slightly open, ready to respond to the DJ, but nothing comes out. I attempt to find the right words, but all I can manage is a small "That'd be quite nice, thank you."
That'd be quite nice, thank you? Really Y/n? What year is it, the 1400's? You've really messed it up now.
A small chuckle leaves Steph's lips.
See, look what you've done.
Before I can react, Steph was leaning in closer. I push my head the short distance to hers, our lips melting into each other with a soft kiss. My hand slowly makes its way through Steph's hair, while she brings her hand down from my forearm to my jaw, the other arm doing the same.
She rubs her hand up and down my side slowly before we detach our mouths for very much needed air. We rest our foreheads together, lips still touching, taking heavy breaths. "Should've done this three years ago." I smile, leaning back in to reconnect out lips.
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shessoft · 2 years
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This left such a bad taste in my mouth. And the official save Batwoman twitter liked the first tweet I…
Listen if I could make it so I only ever had to see or interact with lgbt + people ever again I would in a heartbeat.
I was just trying to represent the core 4? He’s part of the journey and he matters because he exists??
Mary is a cis straight woman but that’s okay? Am I missing something? Is he not part of the show? Does Camrus not deserve praise for his work?
Gay women don’t need straight role models but I would like my nephews (for instance) to have a role model that is smart and caring and supportive of the women in his life. A role model that is capable of far more than society will let him believe. A role model that is allowed to be vulnerable and still badass.
So yeah I included him.
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soullessalready · 11 months
Text
1 June 2023
This is possibly the second worst date I’ve ever had. Lets call him N. We met at a nearby bar after work. I wasn’t expecting anything, thinking just meeting a new friend.
Well he is same age as me, studied here for a few years and was in London for a few months. He seems alright in the beginning until we had conversations about our dating experiences.
He likes to complete my sentence which I find it annoying, and he thinks it’s funny when he complete my sentence like “DTF”. I wanted to tell him some of my dates think me in a certain way or might be judgmental. He then jumped in and said “like DTF”. I told him no, it’s not what I meant…
He explained many guys out there are keen in sleeping around because biologically men are built to reproduce and that’s why they are horny. Honestly, I think there’s a better way to reword this whole statement without getting to the details. Mind you, he is MBA graduate in a respectable university. I felt so disgusted especially he smirked at me after finishing his sentence of “horny”. I wanted to run away so badly but I was afraid of being rude. So I stayed on for a while.
After this topic, he then explained why he doesn’t want kids because he could never be a role model to his future kids. At this point of time, he just want to travel and enjoy his life which is understandable. He must have been studying and working hard in his early age. It’s fair as long as he knows what he wants. Right now he values freedom, not ready to settle yet but wants a relationship. His parents have been pressuring him to get married. He also told me that his brother is getting married and will definitely pop a child without a doubt. But i felt annoyance in him when he said that as if he sees a new birth as something negative. I didn’t feel comfortable again because the energy has shifted
I told him that he might changed his mind again at later stage of his life. He then said many of his friends told him the same thing and he agreed that he might change his plan again. I don’t know what to say next. It was just pure awkwardness.
Here’s the funny part about the dinner. He ordered 2 glasses of beers and I just had a cup of tea with 2 slices of pizza. He finished the entire pizza + 2 glasses of beer. He has the audacity to request splitting the bill. I chuckled and accepted it.
I’ve dated many guys before and I will always request to split the bill if we are having a fair share of food and drinks. This is my first encounter, he definitely left a bad taste in my mouth.
First thing I did on my way back home is unfollow him on my Instagram. The feeling is mutual, he unfollowed me as well. 🙈
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deviltoys · 3 years
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THIS THIRST HAS BEEN IN MY HEAD FOR A WEEK:
Being Kurros dad and manipulating him into doing what ever you want. It started with him giving you blows here and there, then you started to fuck his little boy pussy. Even though he says he hates itand yells no, his soppy little pussy can't help but always suck you back in. He turns into a desperate little slut thats craves for your cock 24/7, and that's all that you wanted, and your oh so proud of your little slut boy. Kurro feels so happy that his master thinks he's a good little slut boy, he hates it when you call him a bad boy, it absolutely breaks his heart, but he can take it anything for you, because you own him after all, right?
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— ‘𝗹𝗶𝗸𝗲 𝗺𝗼𝘁𝗵𝗲𝗿, 𝗹𝗶𝗸𝗲 𝘀𝗼𝗻.’
kuroo tetsurou x top!male reader. (wc; ?)
#a/n: I WAS IN SUCH A HORRIBLE MOOD AND NEEDED TO WRITE ABOUT KUROO SO THIS WAS A LAST SECOND DECISION! it's bad and i’m so sorry, i just needed smth to do. i haven't been the most motivated!
warnings. NSFW CONTENT, MINORS DNI, pseudo incest, step-son!kuroo, dubcon, master k., daddy k., oral, blow job, cum eating, implied breeding/creampie, manhandling.
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your mind was constantly running on filthy, taboo thoughts relating to your step son, kuroo. was it wrong to think such nasty things about anyone other than your wife? you'd been through so many of them at this point that fantasizing over one of their offspring was the least concerning thing you'd done.
ms. tetsurou was an absolute doll, don't get it twisted-- but ever since she'd introduced the two of you, you'd been aching to fuck his little brains out. those glowing gold eyes and messy head of hair just begging you to bury your fingers in and mess it up more.
“hey, kuroo come’re for a second will ya’?”
swinging your forearm over the backside of the couch, you don't remove your gaze from the bulge in your shorts-- eagerly shifting in your seat while you waited for kuroo to pause his school work.
there was no response from his room, which much to your dismay only had your erection falling soft on you. you desperately called for his attention, slipping your sensitive dick from behind your boxers— shorts now pushed down past your calves.
with your broad fingers caressing the tip of your cock, precum would be seaping from your cockhead in no time! but you had to suppress the urge to get yourself off, you'd left yourself untouched all week just for kuroo.
but the longer the harsh silence between the two of you lingered, the faster your pace and frustration increased. why did he have to be a model student with a club reputation to uphold?
“oi, kuroo! get yer’ ass out here, i need something!” your pitch dropped a few octaves, while the tone remained just loud enough for him to hear through the thin walls of the house.
luckily, this time, the message was relayed to your son and soon enough his smaller figure was proped up against the doorframe. brows furrowed quizzically at the face staring back at him— he couldn't see anything past your head, but the way you were situated had him suspicious.
with a hand tangled in your hair and your free hand stroking your shaft, you beckoned kuroo closer with your words; rudely demanding he help you with your urgent request.
“hurry up and give your dad a hand, eh’?” you sneered, hissing through your teeth as you took in a sharp breath-- your length felt so heavy in your hand, it was just waiting for a place to rest on kuroo’s tongue.
kuroo wasn't able to see what had you acting so odd. but as soon as he set foot out of his room, just close enough to get a peek at what you were doing, he took it all in. there was his step dad, jerking himself off on the family couch, no shame hinted anywhere on his expression. he was at a loss for words— tongue tripping over ever other thought in an attempt to form a coherent sentence. it was quite adorable!
he felt his face become somewhat warm and there was an unsettling feeling that stirred in his stomach, he was a hot mess! why did he find his father so arousing? you were a role model to him, not someone his dick should be getting hard to.
he was quite surprised by your size, he honestly could stare and marvel at it all day. though whatever other lewd thoughts were behind those glossy eyes of his had been cut off by the sensation of you shoving your cock down his throat.
“mpfh-- da..d! st- top!” his golden eyes screwed shut, lips sloppily trying to retaliate; you're streching his mouth so nicely as he sits between your knees.
he looked so gorgeous thing to resist his daddy!
a few soft mewls phased through his lips, drool dripping through each rhythmic sound he made around you. he has no choice but to satisfy you, that comforting big hand of yours petting his hair so gently only made it harder to leave.
it was comical really, you face fucking your wife's son! it was even better that he had succumb to the pleasure and wanted nothing more than to be your dumb cock-sleeve for the rest of his days.
you're about to cum, evidence being in the way your veins twich and pulse as kuroo’s tongue swirls around the underside of your cock. the violent gagging and the sound of your balls slapping against his chin sends you into a full body orgasm-- bucking your hips down his gullet, you cum. dull ache in his throat as your lush, creamy semen spoils his insides.
“that’s my fuckin’ boy! now, hop on up.” not even seconds after you've fucked his mouth full of your jizz, he's bouncing on your lap— pleading for daddy to show him who his cunt belongs to! he can't get enough, after getting a taste of your love he's now devoted his life to your fat dick!
you inhale sharply, hands gliding down his trembling hips so you're able to take full control of his movements against your bulge. his tear stained cheeks and wet, pink tongue are the only things in view at that point! his eyes roll back into his head and all the middle blocker can do is slur a bunch of thick gibberish your way.
his abdomen is sore and his bedhead is somehow even more of a disarray then when you started-- he's intoxicated by euphoria and there's no escaping it. a whimper shakes through his frame as you continue to pound his puckered pussy, the fact your wife would be home soon only slowed you down. forcing your baby boy to enjoy every shallow thrust to the fullest so that his mommy could see him in his fucked out haze!
“shoot yer’ coach a call, tell him you're not gonna be able to attend practice for a few days baby.. daddy is far from finished with you.”
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allegra-writes · 3 years
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"On the balcony"
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Tom Hiddleston x Reader
NSFW
Warnings: Smut, semi-public sex.
"You're perfect, and everything in between
Keep moaning, 'cause we're making a scene
Keep going, until they tell us to leave"
Notice me - Role Model
"Oh, god…"
"Shhh" His hot breath on the back of your thighs sent shivers down your spine, "You have to be very quiet, princess. Can you do that for daddy?" 
You nodded your head, not realizing he wouldn't be able to see it. You were too far gone to use words anyway, too drunk on the heady cocktail of adrenaline and desire, too drunk on him.
On his big, calloused hands trailing caresses up and down your naked legs, slipping under your dress, pushing it up and up, over your ass, bunching it at your waist. On his lips, his teeth, kissing, sucking, and nibbling at the pliant flesh of your cheeks. 
On his wicked tongue, wet and hot even through the lace of your gossamer-thin underwear, that you had picked out just for him, and now he was taking great pleasure in ruining.
"Tom…"
Your soft sigh was almost imperceptible, you couldn't even hear it over the pounding of your own heart inside your chest. But of course he heard it. His tongue left you, but you didn't have time to complain before one of his long, dexterous fingers tugged your underwear to the side, toying briefly with your clit only to ghost over your entrance a second later, teasing you but never penetrating you. 
He felt your sharp inhale, no doubt about to whine or complain, but you caught yourself in time. It was worth it, if only to feel his lips trail kisses up your naked back as he stood up to tower over you. 
"Very good, baby" He breathed, husky, against your ear as you managed to keep perfectly still while he buried two fingers as far as they would go into your soft, velvety heat. "Just like that… nice and quiet. Prove to me that you can be a good girl taking my fingers in silent, and maybe… maybe I'll let you have my cock" 
It was an empty threat, you knew that by now. If you were to break and moan, whine, or even cry out, he would just slap his hand over your lips, muffling the sounds as he bent you over the railing, fucking you hard and fast in punishment. Good girl or not, there was no way you were leaving that balcony without christening it the same way you had done every other room, piece of furniture or surface, horizontal or otherwise, in that, your new house. Your safe haven. Your sanctuary. The little piece of paradise he had built just for the two of you. 
No, you knew he would never follow through, but that wasn't the point. The point was that you liked the praise. You liked being his princess, his angel, his good girl, as he did bad bad things to you. And Tom was quite aware of that. He loved seeing you bending over backwards to please him, to cater to his every whim, to obey his every arbitrary rule as he made it increasingly impossible for you. 
It was absolutely perfect, you were absolutely perfect. 
"Yeah… Just like that… such an obedient little thing…" Tom savored the effect his words had on you, your walls delicate squeezing his big fingers, the new wave of wetness falling on his palm like sweet ambrosia, like candy; you tasted just as sweet. A part of him wanted to keep playing with you, to drive you crazy, torture you until you begged for him to take you, debase you in the filthiest, lowest of ways you could think of.
But another, more powerful part, hungered for you, needed you even more than you wanted him. It had for the whole night, ever since you stepped into the garden in that shimmery, backless blue dress, designed with the sole purpose of testing his sanity. 
So far, it was a losing battle. 
The cacophony of music and party sounds downstairs drowned the sound of his zipper and belt buckle being undone, so you didn't realize what was happening until he was sliding his thick cock inside you in one long, slow and controlled stroke. 
"Fuck," your boyfriend broke his own rule, cursing out loud as he bottomed out, "you feel so good… being inside you is pure heaven" 
Understatement of the decade. There was a hunger, an ache in him whenever he was as much as six feet away from him. A heartbreaking longing that could only be fixed by having you like that, in his arms and all around him.
"You feel-ah… You feel amazing too" 
You could practically hear the smile in his voice as he started moving, unhurriedly but harsh. Deep and measured.
"Really now?" 
A sigh was the only reply you could munster, eyelids falling shut by their own accord, head falling back in pleasure.
"No no." He tsked, "Don't close your eyes… look at them" 
You did as he said, trying your best to focus on the housewarming party still going strong in the garden. On your family and friends, blissfully ignorant of what was going on above their heads. 
"All it would take is for just one of them to look up…"
There was no disguising the shiver that shook your body from head to toe at his words. You felt his dark chuckle against your back,
"Oh, but you would like that, wouldn't you? Them seeing us… I would like too," he confessed, "you look positively stunning when I fuck you"
He licked your ear, from lobe to top, and you swore you tasted blood, from how hard you were biting your lip.
"And no one… absolutely not anyone, can fuck you like I do, can they?" 
You shook your head. But he wanted more.
"Use your words, angel"
It was a trap. Of course it was, cause as soon as you opened your mouth, you felt his fingers dig into your hips for leverage, as he started thrusting brutally, his cock splitting you open in the best of ways. Your lips parted in a silent scream.
"I asked you… a question… princess" Tom demanded, punctuating every word with a hard, almost cruel stroke.
"Ah… yes…" you gasped, "yes, daddy. No one… never…" 
"Look at you, so obedient" He praised, "I think you deserve a reward… you deserve daddy's come"
"Oh god, yes" You almost came right there and then, your walls fluttering uncontrollably around his thick shaft, almost driving him to a climax of his own. 
"Ask me nicely, then" he commanded, his movements becoming erratic, "ask daddy nicely to fill you with his come…"
"Please, daddy, fill me with your come" You half murmured, half whined, not even concerned about the volume of your voice anymore. You needed it, you were so close, you could almost taste your release. And you wanted him to come undone with you.
"Take my come, princess… and come with me" 
You did, burying your screams against his palm, just as he buried his against your shoulder, no doubt leaving a mark. 
Tom pulled out of you, fixing your dress before taking into his arms, stepping inside the room, so you both could collapse on the king size bed.
"That was…"
"Absolutely amazing" he finished, once he could catch enough breath to talk again, "just like you, my angel" he brought your hand to his lips, placing sweet, reverent kisses on each of your knuckles.
"No. Just like you… Tom, you're a dream come true"
His replying simile was nothing short of breathtaking. It never failed to marvel him, the fact that you loved him back. The fact that you were his, such a wild and free creature surely ought to be elusive. But you had willingly let yourself be caught by him, and far from feeling trapped, you had actually liberated him. It wasn't the first time you had done something like that: You had let him fuck you on the back of a limousine, finger you under the table at the Met gala, sneaked your hand down his pants on the dancefloor… The list went on and on. 
He felt even more free with you than when he was a bachelor. 
For so long he had run away from commitment, from love. Now all he wanted was everybody to know he was yours and yours alone. 
Just like you were his.
"We should probably get back to the party before they start wondering where we disappeared to…" 
This time, he was the one letting out a bratty whine,
"I know… I don't want to, but I know"
"Do you think anyone saw us?"
Your boyfriend shook his head,
"The balcony is too dark, and the music is too loud, so I honestly doubt it" 
You breathed out in relief.
"Ok. Let me just grab a jacket and we'll go downstairs"
Tom frowned,
"Why? It's a very hot night… are you feeling alright?"
"I am, don't worry" his concern made you smile, "It's just someone left a hickey on my shoulder…" 
Far from looking guilty, a mischievous glint illuminated Tom's icy blues.
"Don't cover it" It wasn't a request. You were ashamed at the weakness of your knees in response to his dominant tone: he had just fucked you, you couldn't possibly be horny again. He was turning you into a nymphomaniac.
"No?"
"No" He confirmed. They might not have seen him taking you, right there under (or above) their very noses…
But they sure as hell would know what you just did. 
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peachyysugaa · 3 years
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blood castle i. || enha 02z
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♚──────────────────────────♚
♜ main pairing: vampire! 02z x gn! reader
♜ genre: hogwarts au, mystery, fluff/angst
♜ wc: 2k
♜ warnings: mentions of blood (pg13), purposefully lowercase
♜ other pairings: lisa x namjoon, slight rose x jungkook
♜ a/n: disclaimer that i don't actually ship these pairings, i just find it fitting for the story :] also kinda boring chapter but we're setting things up <3 also hearts at the end of each chapter to keep track of how oc gets along with 02z hehe lmk what you think!
♜ index: teaser | next | masterlist
♚──────────────────────────♚
i. make the most of it
"what will i do when you're both gone? jennie just left and you two are next!" you pout in your train seat as your best friends exchange teasing smiles. as you get closer and closer to hogwarts, you can't help but keep thinking about rose and lisa inevitably graduating this year.
"i don't know y/n, maybe find some friends your age?" lisa teases. you groan outwardly, tilting your head back.
rose, the ever-exemplary hufflepuff, extends her hands out to yours on the table and grabs hold of them. you stop your obnoxious groaning to stare back at her kind smile. "lili has a point, y/nie. it wouldn't hurt to branch out this year so that lisa and i don't have to worry about you."
your eyes widened. "worry?! what's that supposed to mean?"
rose lets go of your hands to cover her mouth as she laughs while lisa is losing it. the gryffindor 7th year is wiping joyful tears out of her eyes, which isn't helping your case.
you sit, pouting once again and waiting for them to explain.
"two words, y/n," lisa begins while holding two fingers up in a peace sign that you know is anything but peaceful. "you're. clumsy."
"am not!" you defied. your best friends exchange looks once again before raising an eyebrow at you. "tell me one time when i was clumsy!"
"remember that time you tried to shut a mandrake up by putting your hand on its mouth and then it bit you?" rose asks.
"oh! that was so funny!" lisa says, trying to hold back her laughter. "my favorite is when she made a lizard instead of a mini dragon in transfiguration but then it burned her eyebrows off!"
as they share your most embarrassing moments, your ears begin heating up and all you want to do is transfigure yourself into the train seat.
"i stand corrected..." you mumble out unwillingly.
"we love you, y/nie. we only want someone to look out for you when we graduate," rose says as lisa nods.
"fine, fine. i get it, moms."
"you love us."
"yea, yea, i love my two moms who come after my clumsiness all the time."
"as you should, now let's get changing. the train is almost at school."
the older hufflepuff was right. you could see the tall towers of the second home you've come to love in the distance as you glance out the window. this year may be bittersweet since the last of your friend group would be leaving you behind, but you were determined to make the most of it with them and perhaps make some new friends this year.
"i'll stay to keep our spot, you two go ahead," lisa tells you and rose.
"going to text your joonie?" rose teases. the gryffindor's ears have a red tinge at the sound of her nickname for her boyfriend.
"just go before the changing rooms fill up," she mumbles. but as you close the door to your shared booth, you can see that she has already pulled out her phone with a cheeky smile as she waves hi on facetime with namjoon who is slightly older than her and currently working as a magizoologist for the ministry.
you smile to yourself, remembering their relationship when you were just a first year. "come on, yn!" rose calls out.
you break out of your daze and see her several feet away from you. "sorry, eonnie!"
you take your hand off the handle, which you didn't register it was still on, and start to move towards her, carrying your blouse, tie and skirt. before you could reach her, you bump into a hard chest.
you hear a deep oof noise from the figure as you rub your forehead.
"i am so sorry!" you hurriedly whisper.
"you're alright, y/n." you recognize the voice and look up to see sim jaeyun from your house and year. "did you hit your head too hard?" he kindly worries.
"i—"
"yn!!" rose shouts.
"sorry, jaeyun," you apologetically smile as you brush past him. "coming, eonnie!!"
you could've sworn he said something like it was nice to see you, but you were far too focused on not letting rose wait any long. she's definitely amicable like most hufflepuffs, but like most hufflepuffs, you probably don't want to see them angry. you should know since lisa says you're already bad hangry.
it's a quick in and out of the changing room and back to your booth where lalisa waits, staring out the window and watching the castle come closer. it's like a wrestler tag team as you and rose high-five her on your way in and her way out. immediately, the two of you settle down and as you get comfortable in your seat, you notice that she's smirking with you, her eyebrow raised.
"why are you looking at me like that, eonnie?" you ask hesitantly. your fingers look more interesting picking fights with each other.
"oh, nothing," she replies, not giving up her smirk. "just wondering when you and jake were close."
"he's literally the same year and house as me. i can't go a year without a class with him."
she hums like she doesn't believe you. "really?"
"really, really."
"really, really, really?" you groan at her response as she starts to giggle.
"do you wanna talk about your crush on jeon jungkook then, eonnie?" she shuts up then and there, and it's your turn to smirk. "thought so."
"that's hogwarts' idol right there, yn. everyone likes him one way or another, so hush!"
"hush about what?" lisa asks as she slides the door open.
"nothi—"
"jeon jungkook." rose glares at you.
"ohh, rosie's crush of 6 years?" your other friend confirms as she closes the door.
"the one and only."
"you know, he and i are co-captains this year for quidditch. you should just come to our practices."
"will he even notice me? i mean..." your focus on their conversation starts to waver as you glance through the door window. outside your door is the familiar trolley witch with all her pastries and drinks, and you can't help but have a craving for your favorite chocolate frogs. you also can't help but notice the other figure with the trolley witch: the very same sim jaeyun you bumped into earlier.
"eonnies, i'm going to buy some chocolate frogs. do you want any?" you ask, keeping an eye on the figures outside your window.
"cauldron cake for me please!"
"let's have every flavor beans for old time's sakes!"
"alright," you say as you slide the door open and close. they go back to their conversation about a plot to get the hogwarts idol that you're sure is bound to go wrong.
"7 blood lollipops please." you hear jake order. you recall him having a large group of friends across different houses and different years, but for all of them to like blood lollipops is quite unheard of.
"you're not going to have all of those, are you?" you ask him, approaching the trolley.
"y/n," he greets with a smile and a shake of his head as he hands his coins to the witch. "no, my friends and i all really like them. i think i would have a headache if i were to eat all 7."
"2 chocolate frogs, bertie's beans, and a cauldron cake please," you order before turning back to him. "does it really taste like blood, or is it just to trick people into thinking you're vampires?"
jake's face pales though it's hard to see because he's already on the pale side and you're counting out your coins to give to the trolley witch. "personally, i think it tastes like cherry."
you hum as you gather your goodies together, and jake is thankful that you're not paying too much attention to how he reacted. "i'll take your word for it."
the trolley witch moves along, doing what she's done for many years and more to come. you're finally focusing on him more now that you have all your snacks and accomplished being a good citizen by paying the fees. your eyes search his face, go past his sharp jawline, and make their way to the shiny prefect badge on his black and gold robes. the prefect engraving is hard to see against the blinding gold of the hufflepuff badge, but it's hard to miss.
"oh, are you a prefect?" you ask curiously.
"yup, so don't stay out too late. i might have to write you up," he teases.
you playfully roll your eyes at him. "please, when am i not a model student?"
"i would say right now because we're about five minutes away from the castle, and you still don't have your robes on, miss l/n," he jokingly tsks at you.
"ahh, but you see, that's not my fault there, mr. prefect," you banter back.
"oh? then maybe i won't have to give you the first detention?"
"well, mr. sim, i was only taking care of my precious eonnies and buying them snacks. i paid my fees and also engaged in conversation with my fellow classmate, so i've been a little preoccupied," you acted out, playing the role of an innocent student.
"hmm.. engaging in conversation with your classmates on the first day does seem to follow the rules," he lightheartedly agrees. jake is about to add more, but his friends call out to him.
"hey, jake, what's taking so long?!"
"you'd better go take care of your friends, mr. sim," you tease. "be a good hyung, won't you?"
his beaming smile causes your heart to skip a few beats. "alright, miss l/n, but make sure not to let me catch you out of uniform." he waves before hurrying to his own booth.
when you open the door to yours, a chorus of oooh's from your eonnies is what you receive. you roll your eyes at them before shutting the door and grabbing your robe. you can see theirs were already on, the equally shining, gold head girl badge pinned on rose's robe.
"i think she'll be just fine on our own when we're gone, rosie," lisa teases as you slip your arms through your sleeves and tuck your wand in your pocket.
"just don't keep one of my prefects distracted, y/nie," rosie adds.
"so long as you aren't distracted by your head boy, rosie," you tease back.
"no way, jeon jungkook is head boy," she gasps at you.
"i don't know, but i just caught you simping in 4k!" you stick your tongue out at her as she whines and lalisa throws her head back in laughter.
"there really is only one choice though, so it probably is him," lisa affirms.
"i swear, if you two are wrong..." rose pouts.
"but if we're not, you'll get to spend more time with him and get to know him instead of just admiring him from afar like everyone else!" you console.
"well, we'll find out soon enough. we're here," lisa announces as she grabs her trunk from the top rack, helping you get yours and rose hers.
"thanks, eonnie! so glad your long legs are so useful!" you thank.
"yah! they'll be useful for kicking you too, ungrateful brat," she jokingly chastises.
"oh no, lisa eonnie is going to kill me!" you shout dramatically. "rose eonnie, save me!"
"it's going to be a long year," she sighs with a smile keeping close behind as you run off the train and lisa chases after you.
jake's expression mirrors rose's as he watches the trio run off to the nearest carriage. a crack forms in his blood lollipop as he sucks on it harder, the sweet taste of blood running across his tongue. "hyung, come on. let's get in the carriage," jungwon calls to him, his own sucker making his words slightly muddled.
"coming," he mumbles, securing his trunk and stepping into the carriage where his 6 friends wait for him.
their fangs are dripping with the blood of the lollipops.
♚──────────────────────────♚
jake: ♥ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ (lvl. 1)
jay: ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ (lvl. 1)
sunghoon: ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ (lvl. 1)
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sage-nebula · 3 years
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could u explain what u dont like about the new ppg show ? i always like hearing ur thoughts on things
Where to begin?
I haven't liked the premise since the get-go. To begin with, the idea that "superheroes but jaded and cynical" isn't revolutionary anymore, it's overdone. It would subvert expectations more to tell a story that's not like that. The days when all superhero stories were bright, colorful, and hopeful stories is long since done. Between Nolan's Batman trilogy, Watchmen, and The Umbrella Academy, we have enough of "superheroes once had hope but now are jaded and messed up adults" to last us a lifetime. Side note, but The Umbrella Academy also did "former child superheroes are now messed up adults" too, so even that aspect isn't unique to this Powerpuff Girls live-action show. If anything, it's like The CW saw the success of The Umbrella Academy and wanted to take their own shot at it, and they just decided to mess up an existing franchise rather than a.) find a comic series already doing something like that, or b.) create something entirely original and actually take a risk. Riverdale just isn't cutting it for them anymore, I guess.
To that end, the entire idea of taking Powerpuff Girls and making it cynical, jaded, and making the Girls complete messes as adults is the complete antithesis of everything the original show was. I'm not saying that you can't ever stray away from the source material when making an adaptation, nor am I saying that they can't handle mature themes with the Girls as adults (or teenagers if they had decided to go that route). Given the difficulties with finding good child actors, plus the difficulties with those actors aging even if the characters themselves don't, I completely understand why they wanted to age the characters up (especially since the primary audience for The CW is teenagers, so giving them older characters to relate to is probably for the best). But you can do that without ruining the central ideas that the original show had, which were that these Girls are superheroines who love being superheroines, whose town loves them back, who have a loving father who does everything for them, who sometimes make mistakes and need to find their own way through things but ultimately are positive figures and role models for girls everywhere. These Girls loved each other, loved their family, their town, loved their roles as superheroes, loved their friends, and that love was always what saved the day. And sure, sometimes the show could be campy and cheesy, but this was a superhero show with anthropomorphic creatures as villains and, well, kindergarten aged superheroines. It didn't need to be realistic and gritty, that's not ever what it was about.
So to know that the show was always going to mangle these characters and the themes of the original for something that is honestly trite and overdone left a bad taste in my mouth even before I saw the bits of the pilot script that were leaked. But seeing what was leaked, what do I hate about it? Well:
I hate that only Buttercup was cast as black when she is known as being "the toughest fighter" and therefore the most aggressive and violent of the three, since that's a racist stereotype of black women (see: the angry black woman). I also hate that she's not only queer, but also hyper-sexualized in her queerness as well, since that goes into more racist and also homophobic stereotypes (both in that she's hypersexual and also that she's the least feminine and most aggressive, so CLEARLY she's a lesbian, am I right?)
I hate that Buttercup threatens sexual assault against Blossom (leaking her nudes) to wake her up.
I hate that Bubbles is apparently a cocaine addict, or was one at some point.
I hate that Buttercup uses "triggered" with air quotes and is apparently some kind of anti-SJW caricature.
I hate that Professor Utonium is portrayed as an abusive father when he loved those Girls more than his own life in the original and, as stated, did EVERYTHING for them.
I hate that there's a whole scene where the Girls talk about his sex life.
I hate that Ms. Bellum is reduced to just being the Professor's abused girlfriend.
I hate everything that was done with Mojo Jojo, both in how he was split into two human characters and how apparently he created Chemical X but the Professor took credit for his work.
I hate that this adaptation made Professor Utonium into an abusive father, abusive boyfriend, and hack scientist who steals the work of others and then cast a black man to play him.
I hate that Blossom apparently killed Mojo and that's why the Girls are exiled from Townsville (or at least not able to use their powers there or something).
I hate that the Rowdyruffs are apparently in this mess somehow (Butch is mentioned at one point in the script as hating Bubbles).
I hate that they belittle the cartoon as being something terrible in this pilot by having Bubbles say that the Professor "sold their rights" to make the cartoon that "whitewashed" them (I get that she's trying to say it made their image look more pure, but considering the actress is literally white, her claiming to be "whitewashed" is fucking hysterical and just goes to show that the writers are trying to use social justice language without having a single idea of what it means). Basically, "the cartoon sucks, our show is better" when that couldn't be FARTHER from the truth.
I could go on. I always knew I was going to hate this show but the racism, the homophobia, and the complete degradation of everything the original show stood for is so much worse than I could have imagined. I thought we couldn't sink lower than the rebooted cartoon on Cartoon Network, but boy, was I wrong. Apparently they are retooling the pilot, but given that they said their reason for doing so was that it was "too campy and not grounded in reality" my hopes still remain in Hell (where they were originally but yet somehow it still ended up worse than I could have thought). All I can say is that I hope this trainwreck gets canceled before it ever airs. I doubt that will happen, but that's what I'm hoping for anyway.
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weishenbwi · 3 years
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A HEAVY PRICE TO PAY
Group: NCT
Pairing: MarkHyuck
Chapter: 2 Baptism (1, 3, 4, 5)
Words: 1808
CW: Dead Dove: Do Not Eat (click on ao3 link for all tags & triggers); Read at your own risk
Summary:  Haechan really needs this job and Mark is willing to give it to him... for a price. This chapter is triggering. Read AO3 tags first!
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Anything.
And he meant it. Mark could tell by the way the younger had sucked so earnestly on his dick, head bobbing up and down, and Mark thrusting his way to an orgasm with little to no regard for the boy gagging below.
On the drive home, Mark is barely able to stop himself from masturbating to the thought of what the boy was willing to do. He refrains from so much as palming himself over his pants on the way. He's a respectable Christian man after all, but that doesn't stop him from growing to his full length as he reaches the front door of his house, hands already in his pants as he unlocks the door. Fuck that boy and his small, beautiful, sunkissed face, Mark thinks as his hands reach up to taste Haechan still on his fingers. The younger had sucked so earnestly on his fingers at the first command. In need. Pliant. Fuck him. God, he wishes he could. And he will. Given enough time and desperation from the younger, there's likely nothing he won't do or won't be convinced to do. Mark knows it's wrong. It's taking advantage of his power and privilege as a professor and as a role model, but he can't stop it. Doesn't want to stop it.
Now Mark's the desperate one, falling down onto the couch, briefcase dropping to the floor. Mark's practically salivating thinking of earlier: Haechan on his knees, panting, whimpering. Willing. Mark thrusting upward into the younger's mouth. His small but pretty mouth, round face, and innocent eyes. He pulls down the zipper of his pants frantically. He needs to touch himself, get himself off again to the thought of Haechan. It's the second time in a day his dick was that hard against his pants, aching and angry. The first time being when Haechan's pressed his small mouth to it. It was messy, nasty. Mark made it so. He liked it that way, wanted Haechan to have Mark's spit and cum on his face before he left.
"Can I wash my face before-?" the boy had started to ask but Mark gave him a look and he stopped. Haechan knew as well as Mark that he'd started something and no longer had a firm say. No, he couldn't wash his face before leaving the office. Yes, he would have to walk around with spit and dried cum on his face on the way home. The anxious look in Haechan's face was something Mark would be holding onto for future use. If he remembered correctly, Haechan was a bit of a trouble maker and he figured the boy wouldn't amount to much so he never paid him attention - at least not like the ones who would succeed in his class.
Things had changed now, Mark thought. Mark didn't want to hold it against him, the position, the need for financial security, but in the short time they experienced each other, something overcame the older. Something wicked, rotten. It's like when you do something bad and you know you're already going to get into trouble so you abandon reason and control to do whatever you want, to make the discipline later worth it.
One look.
That's all it took for the younger to bow his spit and cum-covered face in resignation. The feel and smell of determination and later panic from Haechan made Mark's breath halt. He grabs his dick, his full length, stretches it out. It still has Haechan's dried spit and Mark's dried cum on it.
A baptism.
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Mark wishes Haechan was here right now to lick it off, whimpering and crying. What a sight that would be. He can't wait to get good use out of the boy that doesn't have nearly enough and so has too much to give in order to obtain - something, anything. And Mark will give. And he will take. He'll take it all. He smiles to himself, stretching out his dick and giving it hard squeezes. He's always liked it rough, even with himself. Or he should say he's always liked the thought of it being rough.
Mark himself is a virgin. He was waiting for "the right one" to love and marry. Someone he could start a family with and grow old. The whole traditional value set he grew up believing. Well, then why did he get off on watching movies where someone took advantage of someone else, those horror movies with non-consensual scenes, or graphic violence, where the victim cried and the villain laughed? Despite growing up in a conservative Christian household, Mark was allowed to watch movies like this when he became of age. His dad used to say that he would one day be the man of the house and that these things were normal in the modern age and his mom used to say "Boys will be boys."
So he watched those movies and he got off to them. He remembers touching himself after one movie in particular and even then he knew he shouldn't get off to something like that. Yet there was no one to tell. He couldn't tell his parents for fear they'd disown him or look at him in disgust. So he held it in and he watched and re-watched and memorized. He memorized the knife, the threats, the "no" and the "yes". He would envision being the perpetrator, the one who shushes the victim when they're crying or hold a knife to their skin as a warning. It turned him on so much and without fail when nothing else did. He tried to ignore the arousal but it didn't go away and this he told his parents. His mom told him not to think such dirty thoughts and his dad agreed until his mom was out of the house, at a church function for the ladies, or out shopping, then he would tell his son that it's normal and that he should do it but not get caught. His dad was an understanding man. He knew that a boy had to get it out of his system. "Just don't tell your mother." So Mark listened like a filial son to his father and he would masturbate in the shower - a tip from his father. When his dad would complain about using all the hot water with a knowing smirk on his face, his mom would state that Mark was a growing boy and it probably felt good for his body. And it did, just not in the ways she expected. After that, he would do it in the bath and take a quick shower after. This way he could cum more than once and no one would be any the wiser about it, including his dad.
Young Mark had only wished he could do it in his bedroom like the other boys his age but there was a strict NO LOCKED DOORS in the house. His parents were trying to keep him safe and they had to know he was okay and Mark understood. Mark was often an understanding son who easily acquiesced, perceiving the wisdom in a harmonious household. Thou shalt Honour thy father and thy mother. And so he did with an abundance of praises and expectations. He had questioned if masturbation would send him to Hell like the Preacher warned but his father assured him it was a natural biological response, that he would get sick if he didn't do it, only that he should be careful to not mention it to anyone including his friends - and especially not to Mark's mom or their preacher. That it was between Mark and God. His father told him not to feel guilty over natural urges, just be private about these affairs and let God carry the rest.
Mark sinks into the couch, not even able to make it to the bed when he has a perfect idea. He stops and grabs something out of his briefcase. Haechan's resume. He doesn't need to look at the resume. It's dismal. "I'll do anything. Please." He tugs his dick again, stroking lightly as he presses the picture of Haechan's face to his dick. "Then suck my dick you worthless whore." Mark thrusts into it, again and again, until the resume is destroyed and dripping with his cum.
Haechan will do anything and it's already begun. Is it something too bad... Aren't I saving this boy? He thinks, spent and breathing heavily, his hand still on his now flaccid dick. If not for me, he wouldn't have this job and he seemed to really need it. Mark didn't ask Haechan why he needed the job but now in the quiet of his house, he figures that's something he should ask. Just how badly does Haechan need this position and to what end would he be willing to secure it? It's turning Mark on again but he refrains from overstimulating himself. He wants to save up his cum and paint Haechan's beautiful tanned skin with it, mix their cum and make him drink it. He'll drink it down like a good, little boy. It's something Mark already knows, even if Haechan will have a look of disgust on his face. Well, that would be better anyway and it's exactly what Mark wants.
He wipes his cum off the paper to see Haechan's face clearer, noticing the number in the upper corner of the resume. It's convenient, he thinks, as he memorizes the number. He won't call it now. Mark is smarter than that. He'll get a burner phone so it can never be traced back to him and an automatic door lock for the office. Mark knows he's getting ahead of himself and that he shouldn't have such twisted thoughts about his student, pliant beneath him, and soaked with whatever Mark decides to use. Spit and cum, sure. But more... wax, other people's spit and cum, Haechan's own liquids, and... Mark allows himself to go down this darker path... Mark's piss. Is Haechan so hasty and in need, that he'd allow that? It would be better if he didn't like it, Mark thinks. It's filthy after all and he wants the depravity to be acknowledged, wants Haechan to reject him, to say no.
Mark wonders what else he's hiding in his subconscious and how much more fucked up will his mind get... How far will he push Haechan and how much will he like it? Mark's not able to finish these thoughts before the sound of his favorite hymn chimes, the alarm going off on his phone. He answers the little equation it takes to turn off the alarm and sighs. It's evening on a Thursday. He throws away the cum-covered resume, pressing a gentle kiss to Haechan's face, and gets in the shower. He doesn't want to be late for church.
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monsoonblooms12 · 3 years
Text
The Butterfly Effect (Ethan Ramsey x f!MC)
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Summary: The Journey from where it all began to where they are now. From a 2-minute power nap to a Miami kiss, Pooja and Ethan have come a long way. From Pooja's POV (Set in OH Bk 1 Ch 10 and contains flashbacks from OH Bk 1 Ch 1, Ch 4 and Ch 5)❤
The Butterfly Effect: Discovered by Edward Lorenz, this theory suggests that something small and insignificant, can alter situations in such a way that leads to utterly drastic changes. For example, a butterfly flaps its wings at an Amazonian Jungle and subsequently a storm ravages half of Europe. (This has to be one of my favorite theories ever🦋)
A/N: I got inspired from a dark Academia quote and here we are with 2.4K of mess. But I enjoyed providing all the fbs from Poo's POV and filling in the gaps of the unknown. And all the DbC peeps, I am trying to finish ch 8 believe me😭
Thank you so much to @jamespotterthefirst for Pre-reading! Love you🧡
If you enjoyed the story, please like it, leave a comment or reblog. Your feedback keeps me going🦋
Pairing: Ethan Ramsey X f!MC (Pooja Sharma)
Word Count: around 2.4K
Rating: General
Category: A messy mix of Fluff and Angst
Warnings: None that I found
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A grain of sand, almost imperceptible to the human eye, 2 millimetres in diameter. Just a tiny little grain of sand, a single one. One would wonder how great of an effect that could produce?
A single grain of sand, eliminated from the base of a sand sculpture, can set on fire a cascade of events that result in something as drastic as the demolition of the entire sculpture. Just a trifling 2 mm sized grain of sand.
Tufts of hair gently swayed with the swooshing ocean breeze, the very grains of sand of which her mind was thinking about slip through gaps of her toes. It's a calming atmosphere, having a Zen-like effect on her racing heart and confused reasoning.
The echoing crash of ocean tides, the hushed ruffle of her shimmering purple dress, and the pattern of her footsteps of the white sand, now silver under the enchanting moonbeams.
She could not think about bad ideas and good ideas anymore. Nor could she obliterate the delicate touch of peach lips ingrained in her mind. Everything was a lock of tangled hair, a chaotic mess in her mind.
And when you can't disentangle a mess, you just tear it off.
That was what she was doing, tearing herself away before her mind got engulfed by a cocoon of ambiguity and concealed probabilities, restricting her to get out without getting transformed into someone else.
Legs exhausted after strolling for who knows how long, Pooja sits down, not bothering about the sheet of sand fragments that adhered begrudgingly to the purple satin.
A simple motion ensues, the florid hair tie holding her brown hair strands in a ponytail, now lay in her hand, giving them the liberty to enjoy the tranquillity of the idyllic scene they found themselves in.
Relaxation. That was what she anticipated. The soothing of her racing heart, the clearing of her muddled head, the easing of her bothering thoughts.
But it never came, the relaxation she desired.
Instead, her fingers, for a reason mysterious even to her, fidgeted the diamond imitation bracelet that embellished her left wrist. A twitch unveiled a vague scar, a remembrance of an old episode entirely cleared off from her mind.
Flashback
Pooja was a Potterhead. An extreme one indeed. Sometimes the thought made her chuckle. How she despised the books once, presuming they were overrated. And then, as if a magic trick had been performed on her, she became the Maven of the Harry Potter club.
But being a Potterhead and having to live in a niche under the stairs did not go hand in hand. The room under a staircase was still a room under a staircase. And every day, her mind replayed the poem of curses to her, as if to warn her to never search for an apartment on a Facebook Group ever again.
And now she stood, waiting for the century-old toaster's ping, as sleep struck like pin-pricks on her eyelids, threatening to close them off. It was a bad day today, the phone battery drained, and she, coffee drained. And the cherry on the top? Today was the first day of her residence at the most prestigious hospital in the entire States.
Uff!
She yawned the hundredth time, sleep playing a tiring game of chess with her mind, and giving it a Check! every now and then.
I don't even know a goddamn coffee shop around in here!
Displeased grunts accompanied the thought as she took the knife and began slicing the apple she had been floundering around for quite some time.
One Slice, and Another, and Ano-
Snorr!
What an ability it was to fall asleep anywhere, in any position! What harm would a "Power Nap" of a minute or two do? Right?
AAHHH!
The scream came out in bits, first when her eyes fluttered open with the sudden pain. A pause followed when she actually looked at the source of it and after her eyes and mind registered what was happening, came the second scream.
She was getting the taste of just how profitable the power nap was.
Hurrying away, she rummaged around for a first aid box, failed to find it, trotted to her Harry Potter adobe and took out the medical goodies she had brought with her. After ransacking through it, she found the antiseptic and the swabs she was looking for. Then a faint sound came from the blinking cellular and she picked it up, not waiting for breakfast. Just as she clicked the unlock button...
HOLY SHIT!
What? How? Her mind could not register. The only thing she understood was that she was notoriously late for her first day, and now she would have to do all the running that she had avoided for all the preceding years.
Letting out another pained groan, she kicked two flowerpots on her way to the kitchen, took the toasted slices of bread, switched off the stupid piece of machinery and ran.
She was sure she would have come first in any marathon if she had run in them with the speed she was racing right now.————————————————————————
Did she know about Dolores Hudson? No, she didn't. Had she planned on telling about her to Dr Ramsey? No, she hadn't.
The two words had inadvertently slipped off her tongue, not envisioning it as an indication. But as soon as they reached his ears, it felt as if a domino had been pushed. One pushed on to the other, leading to a chain of events that had given no hints, no warnings at all.
And now she was in the NICU, chatting with the man whom she considered an idol, a role model as if they were old companions. It was an enchanting experience to see the intern-terrorizing gentleman, so ... normal.
She questioned her mind's choice of word, but she did not completely disagree. To see Dr Ramsey, sitting here with an intern, talking with her, for no particular purpose other than the fact that she decided to stay back here in contrast to any other person, who would have valued their sleep than watching over a premature baby with whom she had no connection.
When sleep muddled her thoughts, she didn't realize what she was doing. Head lowered into his shoulder in a motion that felt like a reflex embedded in the nerve cords of her spine. She missed the gentle smile, decorating the handsome face of his, as he watched her from the corner of his eye, his eyes holding an emotion unrecognizable.
Was it affection? Pride? Adoration? Or something completely different? Who knew.
But if there was something she did know after that day, it was that she felt lucky, damn lucky, for that slip of the tongue.————————————————————————
How idiotic of her the decision was, she didn't want to talk about it.
Pooja had only found herself running the way she was running now on the first day of her residence, and she had only herself, and no one else to blame.
Why did she think that giving up on the most wanted position for every medicine intern in Edenbrook for friends when every one of them participated in it was a good idea?
If only her brain comprehended her priorities appropriately, she wouldn't have to rush through roads like a person who was missing their train.
Panting, grunting, and completely tensed, she arrives at Edenbrook. Steps don't slow down until she arrives before the light beige door, huffs and puffs, not pausing for a split second. She doubted if her legs still had the power to walk or if she would have to crawl into the office.
Nah, no more embarrassment, she would not be able to bear it. With the power that remained in overworked limbs, she knocked, entered and gave her reasons for the delay. And then, by a margin of a minute, she signed the sheet, absolutely normal but still holding the power to twist her entire life in an unforeseen way.
But did she regret it? She couldn't, and she wouldn't.————————————————————————
Miami. The city of gorgeous beaches, giving the aesthetic of peach and teal life. The expensive marble-floored hotel rooms in which she found herself was unreal. Definitely not made for some random intern.
Gorgeous decorated interior, delicately manicured lawns, elegantly made fountains, all standing majestically, giving a fight to each other. She glided through the vast space, joy overcoming job as she breathed the calming salty air coming from the oceanfront, which appeared like a picture frame in front of her. She had never seen anything so perfect in her life.
It was like Ataraxia.
She preferred Mountains over Beaches. She always had, and without a doubt, she always will. But when something looks so heavenly, it would be absolute stupidity to forego the chance of visiting it, even if it contrasted her preferences.
Forgetting the not-so-pleasant interaction with Declan Nash, which appeared like a stone in her perfect day, she let her sensations delve into the delicious culinary masterpieces that melted in her mouth like wax.
All the merrymaking and socializing drained her. But the gentle talks, soft giggles that she shared with him, an extraordinary, priceless moment, seemed to charge her, rejuvenate her. A corner of her heart did hope for something to happen. But she hushed it, not wanting to spoil the casualness, the beauty of the simplicity that blew in the air between them.
It felt like existing in the setting of one of those Michael Faudet quotes, one of them particularly being emphasized by her mind.
"As our eyes meet, all-time seizes to exist. The dying second frozen like petals of red roses kissed by autumn frost."
Pooja's mind still reeled, falling freely into the void as passion and some unnamed emotion overtook them. His heart steady under the touch of her palm and hers racing under the touch of his. She would not be able to remove the unreal image from her idiot of a heart, even if she wanted to.
Sleep refused to come to her, even after calling it repeatedly. She sat up, relieving the memory, playing in front of her like a sepia movie on the silver screen. Eyes travelling around, only to fall on a bouquet kept neatly at one of the antique corner tables.
It was white lilies and purple orchids.
Pooja Sharma didn't know the language of flowers when she received them, with a tag casually signed as E. A vague tag like that did not help to know the actual sender. The man whom she kissed had a name beginning with E, the hotel she was staying in had a name beginning with E.
Hell, even the hospital she worked in had a name with the letter E.
But if she had known the language of flowers, she would have pinpointed the symbolism hidden in it.
The White Lily carrying the meaning of Purity, Sweetness while Purple Orchids a clear cut indicator of admiration and elegance.
She would have been able to tell which E had sent the delicately wrapped piece that now lay uncared for in the corner of her room.
Feelings overcrowded reason, and she found herself suffocated in the very room that seemed heavenly to her in the morning.
Slowly and silently, she walked away to find the solace which he or she could not give her, in nature.
Flashback ends
As the amaranthine ocean glistens, waves crash and the foamy water rushes to engulf her feet as she stood, hands wrapped around herself, she felt she had truly found solace. There was a spiral, an unending coil of memories, a string which, when pulled, tugged in emotions hidden in darkest corners, forgotten but related, all tied together.
It was surprising, enigmatic, how much the little brain of hers, the soft heart of hers, holds in them. A constant battle of reason and emotions ravage the tired battlefields of her body. How casually, reminiscences of a bygone day appears, flicker like the reflection in the mirror of the calm pond water, but remain clear through the ripples that spread on the surface from time to time. That's how memories work, still clear, still dear, even after passing through chaotic ripples of time.
As she reaches the end of the spiral, the helix of her thoughts, she finds herself even more astonished than she was when she reverted to the first pages of the memoirs of her stay in Boston.
It was just a minute, or a word or two. Always so insignificant.
Every ignored act added one upon another and resulted in the catastrophic mess of heartbreak and affection she found herself today.
The 2-minute Power Nap of her first day? It led to the 2-degree shift of the knife and the scar that her finger was tracing now.
That 2-degree shift led to the delay in her reaching the hospital?
It resulted in her meeting her mentor, which gave her the chance to do the thoracotomy with him, to experience how it felt when his hand enveloped hers.
Those two words that slipped as a nonchalant thought off her tongue? It was why she could know how Ethan Ramsey was, behind the tough exteriors, the short-tempered demeanour, how it felt to place her head gently on his shoulder, to wake up to his glowing face.
And that one minute past midnight, when she signed up for the challenge that would change her life? That is why she is here, hair ruffling and eyes glistening, the Leucos Moon reflecting on the glistening water, the crepuscule spread mystically around her. That is why she knew how it felt to be touched by him, kissed by him, to get lost in him.
When Edward Lorenz discovered the butterfly event, he had correlated mathematics and meteorology. Had he thought that the same butterfly effect had turned an unassuming intern's life upside down, pushed her so back in the void of circumstances that it was impossible to come back?
Just a 2-degree shift of a knife, and now she was here in Miami. Just like the unassuming butterfly's flap of wing, which now ravaged a storm through her life.
Glassy droplets make a slow trail down the curve of her cheeks and drop on the scar as if trying to meet the origin which has brought her to the coordinates of the present.
And even though she did not know what would happen in the days to come, she was happy, truly happy, for that shift of her knife and for the 2 minutes of the power nap.
For the butterfly effect of love.
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PS: Thank you so much for reading and I hope you have a great day ahead! Love, Manamee🧡.
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mexcraziness-art · 3 years
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Monkie Kid/JTTW OC: Liang Xingti
Okay, so this bio is going to be pretty messy, mostly because I’m really tired these days, but also because I’m still reading Journey to the West, and still waiting on the new seasons of the show. So I can’t go into details too deeply until I find out more, this is more of a general outline of what I have in mind for her so far!
Name: Liang Xingti (亮星体),Tong Bi Yuanhou (通臂猿猴) Nickname: Gab Gender: Female
Liang Xingti, also known as the Long/Magic Armed Gibbon or just „Gab”, much like Wukong, she’s one of the Four Spiritual Monkeys, see the one and only mention in Journey to the West:
„The third kind is the magic−armed gibbon that can catch the sun or moon, shrink mountains, see what is auspicious and what is not, and fool around with heaven and earth.”
History: Xingti was born from a cloud after a full solar-eclipse, as the circumstances of her birth concerned Heaven she was soon taken in by Taibai Jinxing, the Gold Star of Venus, as a discipline. She grew up in the Heavenly Court, and was trained in combat by Erlang Shen. Despite now being a Heavenly Warrior she was mostly running errands for Jinxing and the Jade Emperor. After Wukong showed up in Heaven she was really intrigued by him, as she never met a monkey like her before. She developed a strange mix of appreciation and irritation towards Wukong as time went on, and after he became the Great Sage Equaling Heaven the two of them became semi-friends, usually sparring together. Wukong also showed her a new perspective on life, and she began to internally question her life and role in the heavenly court. When Wukong rebelled against and rampaged through Heaven she tried to fight him as well, and meanwhile normally they were pretty evenly matched, she didn’t stand a chance, as her doubts held her back and Wukong’s rage filled War Form was simply way out of her league at the time. After the Buddha trapped Wukong under the mountain her doubts in Heaven increased, now with added guilt on top. After Heaven banished Sandy, and their treatment of Bai Long Ma, she finally had enough and tried to leave Heaven. She was warned by her master Jinxing that Heaven might take this as an act of rebellion, so she was forced to stay, but she took more and longer trips to Earth. When she heard Wukong was freed she occasionally visited him and his company of their Journey, though his situation left a bad taste in her mouth. After this she spent the next few hundred years doing the same, running errands for Heaven and fighting demons on their orders.
(The following is mostly relevant to the 4+1 Monkeys AU)
In the present day she was sent by Heaven to Earth to find Wukong and get help to investigate and try to capture Macaque for reasons the Jade Emperor didn’t share with her, this lead to her being suspicious about her mission from the start. When she went to Flower Fruit Mountain to get Wukong’s help, she ran into MK, and soon found out that Wukong trains him as his successor, which lead the two of them to having a fight, and Xingti leaving to capture Macaque alone. However she was followed by MK who offered to help her, which she accepted, endangering MK in the process. Of course Wukong showed up last minute and the two of them captured Macaque. Later Xingti revelaed she doesn’t want to turn Macaque over to Heaven until she finds out more about their motivations, so she decided to stay on Flower Fruit Mountain with Macaque as their prisoner until they find out more, which left Wukong less than impressed.
Personality: Having grown up in Heaven, Gab was a model discipline, she never questioned authority, or the orders she was given. She was trained to be level headed and controlled as Heaven was vary of her possible wild nature. After she met Wukong and started to question Heaven she slowly became more rebellious, second guessing her orders and asking too many questions. As she spent more and more time on Earth and away from Heaven, she developed a loud, brash and snarky personality, she has a crude sense of humor, and likes to mess with people for the fun of it. She’s playful but likes to see just how far she was push someone by annoying them before they get pissed off. However also having grown up in Heaven, she grew up pretty isolated, and making meaningful connections is pretty hard for her. She doesn’t handle rejection well, and gets quickly angered when she feels confused or conflicted about something, specially if it’s relationship related. She also uses this to hide her sensitivity, which she views as a weakness. She mostly tries to show the affection and fondness she has for someone by being an absolute pest in their lives, and hope for the best.
Powers and Abilities:
She has all the standard abilities of a Spiritual Monkey and a Heavenly Warrior, including: -Immortality -Super strength and super speed -Chi manipulation -Cloud Generation -Flight
Other Abilities: -36 Heavenly Transformations (much like Wukong, she can’t change her tail) -Cloud Clones -She can use the essence of the Sun and Moon for various spells and magical abilities, she can also cause full lunar and solar ecplises by forcing the sun and the moon to move in place, this gives her a full power boost however this is also one of the things that can kill her. -Size changing of objects: She can change the size of anything to any size at will. -Fortune Sense/Opportunity Sense: She can sense how favorable a situation/decision could be.
Weapon: Her staff, made out of a droplet of Sun and Moon, is her signature weapon. She usually keeps it in her belt on her back, in it’s basic Handle form. She can command it to grow into a staff, which is how she usually uses it in combat. And at it’s strongest, she can summon a Sun and Moon blades on each end, as it’s third form.
Relationships:
Sun Wukong: She has sort of a back-and-forth relationship with Wukong. She loves to annoy and pester him and constantly challenge him to sparring matches, as they’re one of the few people who actually pose a challenge to the other. She likes to get a rise out of him, to knock him down a peg from his high and mightiness. She also loves to constantly remind him of his embarassing events in Heaven. Generally she’s just a little shit towards Wukong, but in a friendly, familiar way. To Wukong she’s more of an unwelcome nuisance that he’d rather avoid, but at the end of the way they both hold a fondness for eachother, just locked away deep, deep down, due to their shared experience with Heaven, and really both of them would rather die than ever admit it out loud.
MK: Much like Wukong, she likes to bully MK in the friendly way. She constantly pesters and makes fun of him, sometimes even „showing him some fighting moves” just so she can knock him around a bit. She sees the potential in him, how powerful he could become, and how he’s better than any of them ever were. However this is also the reason she doen’t go easy on him. Despite all this she has a soft spot for MK, when she’s not messing with him, she’s always telling him cool stories of her and Wukong’s old days, that didn’t make it into the legends. She also always makes sure to tell the embarassing bits about Wukong.
Macaque: Her relationship with Macaque is… complicated and a massive WIP to put it simply, so this one will be super brief.
After they captured him, Xingti basically became his de facto prison warden. She constantly followed him around and just kept an eye on him in general. Because of this she soon became super intrigued by him, not only beause he was the second Spiritual Monkey she ever met, but mostly because she felt as if they were on a common wavelength. After Macaque’s initial escape attempts, and various arguments with Wukong, she set out to try to understand him and his past. As time passed and Macaque actually warmed up to them they grew pretty close. As it turns out they have a similiar sense of humor, and both of their favourite hobbies is making Wukong miserable, she quickly grew a soft spot for Macaque and before she even realised it she had all but developed a crush on him. Macaque had soon noticed the obvious changes in her behaviour, and as he had been faking his redemption this whole time, he decided to take advantage of her feelings for him. He played along and peretended to fancy her as well, they have even developed sort of a romantic relationship, (this whole thing of course didn’t leave Macaque as unaffected as he liked to believe) and things were actually pretty good, until Macaque saw an opportunity to betray them and make it hurt. This of course left Xingti more than emotionally devastated, and she swore to make Macaque pay herself. This is pretty much what I have in mind so far, I'm sure I left out a lot, I'll add them later when I remember them! And hopefully I'll draw a ref of my other OC, Mandy, the 4th Spiritual Monkey soon as well!
Art by @mexcraziness-art
Liang Xingti and 4+1 Monkeys AU belongs to @mexcraziness-art
Monkie Kid belongs to Lego
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ibijau · 3 years
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How to Woo a Lan pt 4 / Also on AO3
Jin Ling explains why he fell in love, gets some advice, and tries to give advice of his own in return
Clearly expecting that the conversation would take a while, Nie Huaisang put away his work and called for servants to bring everything needed to serve tea. Once they were alone waiting for that tea to arrive, Jin Ling started explaining how he had fallen in love with the most perfect person in the entire world, how beautiful Lan Sizhui was (this earned him an unimpressed stare from Nie Huaisang), how elegant (more staring), how nice (a roll of the eyes).
“So he is polite, and you find that impressive,” Nie Huaisang noted, hiding a yawn behind his fan. “I suppose someone living in Jinlin Tai and the Lotus Pier wouldn’t be used to it. And of course he’s handsome, he’s a Lan. I think it’s something in the water of the Cloud Recesses.” Jin Ling frowned at the dismissal of Lan Sizhui’s quality, while Nie Huaisang yawned again, this time without bothering to hide it. “Is that why you love him? He’s capable of more basic decency than most people you’ve met in your life -a very low bar, might I add-, he’s somewhat good-looking, and that’s it?”
“Of course that’s not all!” Jin Ling exploded, but he couldn’t explain the rest right away as the servants returned then.
Nie Huaisang, who could act like a good host when he felt like it, prepared tea with slow, measured movements and poured it for both of them when the servants left again. With unexpected elegance, he gave one glass of tea to Jin Ling before making a gesture to order him to resume speaking.
“He really is kind, and I won’t let you treat it like something that doesn’t matter,” Jin Ling said, before taking a sip of tea. 
It was nice, if a little plain. Having accompanied both his uncles to conferences in Qinghe before, he knew this blend was considered the better sort of tea available in the Unclean Realm, which comforted him. He had no doubt Nie Huaisang wouldn’t have hesitated to serve him bad tea if he’d really been annoyed about being half blackmailed into helping.
 “I know people from Gusu Lan are polite, but it’s not the same as kind,” Jin Ling pointed out, and he could have sworn Nie Huaisang’s mouth twitched in an almost-smile. “When we were in Yi City, he really was nice to everyone, checked those that had gotten poisoned, and encouraged them to eat some congee even if it tasted awful. If it had been me, I’d just have scolded them into eating it! And some of the others with us were scolding their poisoned friends, because we were all worried, but he took time to reassure others, even if he had to be worried too. I mean, his dad was out there fighting stuff, of course he was worried!”
Nie Huaisang made a face at the mention of Yi City, and quickly opened his fan to hide behind. Jin Ling only remembered then that if he and his friends had almost died in that place, it might have been because of this man sitting across from him. It was a really odd thing to think, and if Wei Wuxian in person hadn’t made the accusation, if Jiang Cheng hadn’t later told Jin Ling that the whole thing made sense… how could Nie Huaisang have had the guts to do that, when he was too much of a coward to meet Jin Ling’s eyes when he mentioned this?
“I suppose he’s been raised a little better than most boys his age,” Nie Huaisang conceded,fanning himself just a little too quickly. “An effect of growing up around Lan Wangji and Lan Xichen, both excellent role models, except for their taste in friends. So you love a beautiful young man who is kind to everyone, hm?”
“Well…”
It was Jin Ling’s turn to avert his eyes, his cheeks flushing a little in embarrassment.
“Well, it’s also that he’s not always sweet,” he muttered, before quickly emptying his tea to give himself a countenance.
“How so?” Nie Huaisang asked, sounding genuinely puzzled. He even closed his fan, as if to better focus on what Jin Ling had to say.
“Well. Well, you see, after that whole thing in Jinlin Tai, when Wei Wuxian accused my uncle of murder, and my aunt died, and then me and a bunch of juniors were kidnapped, right?” Jin Ling asked. Nie Huaisang grimaced again. Right, this too was kind of his fault, wasn’t it? “And even then Sizhui was so nice when we were held in that cave, and trying to comfort everyone! But also… Well. I have this very annoying cousin, you see? And he was acting awful, and Sizhui had been patient and patient and patient, but in the end… well, in the end he snapped, and I think if he hadn’t been tied up, he would have slapped Jin Chan in the face.”
Even after this long, the memory of Lan Sizhui’s righteous fury still made Jin Ling’s heart beat a little faster. That it had happened because his cousin had been pestering him was just a nice bonus.
“And also, he tries to hide it, but he’s a little proud,” Jin Ling added. “He really, really likes being praised. His face completely lights up when Hanguang-Jun says he’s done good, and he’s almost glowing whenever Wei Wuxian compliments him and says he’s a good boy and all that. And then when someone says something mean to him, his face does that thing…”
Jin Ling tried to scrunch his own face into an approximation of Lan Sizhui’s expression. He didn’t have a great talent for impressions, but it was still good enough for Nie Huaisang to let out a snort. He then tried to cover it by coughing a few times, but Jin Ling knew what he’d heard.
“It’s never for very long,” Jin Ling resumed, “but I noticed it and it’s just. I guess he wouldn’t like me to call it that, but it’s really cute. I just wish I didn’t keep saying the wrong thing to make him make that face, you know? I want to watch it, not cause it.”
“At least you have self awareness,” Nie Huaisang said, rolling his eyes. “That’s more than several members of your family could ever have said. You’ll just have to learn how to turn a weakness into a strength. Now, tell me, what have you tried to make Lan Sizhui aware of your interest in him?”
Jin Ling, suddenly, desperately wished he had some tea left in his glass, just so he could pretend to drink it instead of facing that question. He ended up turning the empty glass between his hands and staring down at the table, feeling Nie Huaisang’s silence get more and more judgemental the longer it took Jin Ling to answer.
“I see,” Nie Huaisang said after a while.
“You don’t see anything! I just want us to be good friends first, and then…”
Jin Ling trailed off, and toyed some more with his empty glass.
“Fine, then what have you done to become his friend then?” Nie Huaisang insisted, amusement piercing through his voice.
“Well, he hasn’t been around much those last few months,” Jin Ling muttered. “But, well, I went with him on Night Hunts twice before someone killed my uncle, so there’s that. And then he came home not too long ago, and we went on another Night Hunt with everyone! And then…” He sighed, deeply. “And then I said something wrong, and I think I accidentally insulted him, and I haven’t seen him since then and I can’t see him until I figure out how to do things right!”
Nie Huaisang hummed, but didn’t say anything right away. When Jin Ling risked a glance, he found the older man looking at him the way one might inspect a horse before buying it. Jin Ling didn’t particularly care for that. It felt so wrong for Nie Huaisang to have such an intense, calculating expression on his face, making him look miles away from the blundering fool who had bothered Jin Ling’s uncle for years and years.
When Nie Huaisang looked like that, it became too easy that he had done all those terrible things Wei Wuxian had accused him of.
“It’s true that you have a certain gift for saying exactly what people don’t want to hear,” Nie Huaisang stated, fanning himself slowly. “You’re impulsive, that’s your problem, and your uncles both failed you in that regard. It’d be hard to go against your own nature in the best of case, but they've done nothing to help you understand your own temper. I suppose we’ll have to work with it. Have you ever considered taking up a correspondence with Lan Sizhui?”
Jin Ling shook his head. “It’s… isn’t it risky? My uncles have always told me if I start liking someone, I shouldn’t leave traces. There’s always a risk of blackmail, if the other person doesn’t feel the same. Not that Sizhui would ever do that! But, well… Letters can fall into the wrong hands, and because of my grandfather I know people watch me more than other boys my age in case... well...”
“I’m not telling you to write him erotic letters,” Nie Huaisang said with a mocking sneer. “Not yet anyway, and I could teach you a trick or two about keeping those secrets. But simple, polite letters... it’s a good way to stay in touch with a friend, and it would let you think more carefully about what you’re saying, and how you’re saying it.”
“Oh.”
That did sound wise. Even Jiang Cheng was a little less abrasive when writing than in person, and Jin Ling was fairly sure he wasn’t as bad as his uncle. That might be worth trying.
“Another piece of advice,” Nie Huaisang continued, fanning himself with slow, nearly hypnotic movements. “Own up to your faults. Admit to your little friend that you’re aware your mouth goes faster than your brain, and that you often realise too late you said something bad. You could even tell him that you’d appreciate his guidance in correcting this. Gusu Lan disciples love that sort of things, they’re all raised to become teachers. Offer yourself as a student and the fight is half won already.”
“You’re sure?”
“How do you think I even got Lan Xichen to notice me? ‘Please Xichen-gege, please tutor me’,” Nie Huaisang whined in a high pitched voice, his bottom lip trembling for a moment, before his pathetic pout turned into a disgusted grimace as he closed his fan with a sharp gesture. “I think the Lan like a desperate case, so you should have your chance.”
That was a very rude thing to say, but Jin Ling could hardly disagree. Nie Huaisang was a complete mess, that much was clear. And as for Wei Wuxian, the less said, the better. Yet those two absolute disasters had, apparently, managed to seduce the two top cultivators of Gusu Lan, nay, of the entire cultivation world, who surely could have had their pick of competent and emotionally capable partners of any gender.
Jin Ling hated that it did make him feel a little more hopeful.
“Well, that’s all my advice for today,” Nie Huaisang announced, before glancing with disgust at the pile of paperwork he’d set aside earlier. “I have to do my own work these days and it takes a while, so I’d appreciate it if you left. I know etiquette dictates I should invite you to spend the night here,” he added, “but I really don’t feel like it, and I don’t suppose you’d enjoy it either. Who could say if I wouldn’t change my mind and murder you in your sleep, right?”
Nie Huaisang laughed at his own joke, earning an unimpressed stare from Jin Ling for his poor taste in humour.
It probably was a joke. 
Right?
Just to be a pest, Jin Ling considered forcing the issue and demanding to be given a room. But Nie Huaisang had guessed right in suspecting that Jin Ling didn’t quite trust him enough to make himself vulnerable in his domain. Not only that, but if he stayed, poor Ouyang Zizhen might start worrying about him, and either try to storm the Unclean Realm on his own, or worse fly toward the Lotus Piers and get Jiang Cheng to storm the Unclean Realm, by far the worst possible option because then Jin Ling would have two other sect leaders furious at him.
“I’ll leave,” he conceded, which made Nie Huaisang smirk. “But can I come back tomorrow, and show you my letter? Just to make sure I’m not writing anything too awful.”
“I would say no,” Nie Huaisang sighed, “but I have a feeling you’ll just do as you please anyway, so I might as well pretend I have any control over this. Yes, come back tomorrow, why not. It’s not like I have anything better to do. Try to be here at the same hour as today, and I should be able to make time for you.”
Jin Ling promised. Nie Huaisang then called for a servant to bring Jin Ling back to the gate so he wouldn’t get lost. The distrust, apparently, was mutual.
Once out of the Unclean Realm, Jin Ling lost no time in returning to Qinghe proper, and there he headed straight for the inn where Ouyang Zizhen awaited his return with much anxiety. The poor boy nearly cried of relief when he saw Jin Ling enter the inn. In fairness though, he was just that sort of a person so Jin Ling told himself he hadn’t caused his friend any actual worry. Still, he made sure to buy the best food the inn had to offer, and some wine as well, just to thank Ouyang Zizhen for having come along.
While they had lunch in the privacy of their room, Jin Ling reported his success, and shared the advice given to him. Jin Ling had told Ouyang Zizhen that he’d gone to Nie Huaisang in particular because he used to be friends with Lan Xichen and thus knew Lan Sizhui, an explanation that seemed to be accepted without further questions. 
Jin Ling couldn’t help thinking that Lan Sizhui would have asked for more details about that. He was curious and observant, surely he might have picked up on something wrong with Jin Ling’s lie. Then again, with gossip forbidden, he might not have said anything.
Someday, Jin Ling wouldn’t have to speculate. Lan Sizhui and him would be married, and happy, and they would share everything, unlike some people, so Lan Sizhui wouldn’t even have to pick up clues to know things.
With this goal in mind, Jin Ling started drafting a letter as soon as he was done eating. His first attempt was predictably awful, but to Jin Ling’s surprise, he actually realised that on his own, even before Ouyang Zizhen could check it. Maybe Nie Huaisang had been on to something about it being easier to deal with his temper and lack of social skills on paper. So Jin Ling drafted a second letter, and then a third, while Ouyang Zizhen sat by, reading over his shoulder and occasionally offering his opinion.
By the fifth draft, Jin Ling felt he was starting to get the hang of this.
“I just can’t believe you got him to agree,” Ouyang Zizhen said while glancing at his letter again. “I mean, Nie zongzhu! You’ve said that Wei Wuxian said that he’s the one who got your uncle killed, right? So… are you really sure it’s not a trap?”
Jin Ling chewed on the end of his brush, trying to remember how to write a certain character, and shrugged.
“I’m not sure it isn’t. A trap, I mean.”
“And you’re still going back tomorrow?” Ouyang Zizhen gasped. “He’s given you advice, and good one at that, isn’t it enough?”
Jin Ling shrugged again, and wrote down another sentence.
His friend wasn’t wrong to find him unwise. Nie Huaisang was dangerous, there was no denying it, and he certainly wasn’t nice, that was certain as well. But if Nie Huaisang had been as awful as he pretended to be, he wouldn’t have listened to Jin Ling at all, wouldn’t have talked so fondly about Jin Zixuan, wouldn’t have gotten so upset at the thought of Lan Xichen’s reputation being ruined any further.
Nie Huaisang wasn’t nice, but he probably wasn’t that bad either. No more than other people in Jin Ling’s life, anyway, and at least he didn't shout as much as Jiang Cheng did.
“If I don’t go back, he’ll think I’m scared,” Jin Ling claimed.
“Well, aren’t you?”
“Even if I were, I wouldn’t want him to know that. Anyway, I think I’m done, can you read it?”
Ouyang Zizhen obeyed, and agreed it was about as good as it could get without getting too awkward. It didn’t need to be perfect, anyway. Jin Ling had a feeling that Nie Huaisang would enjoy having something to criticize. So he put away his letter, and went out to explore Qinghe with Ouyang Zizhen, forgetting his love troubles for a little while. They had great fun, and Jin Ling only wished a few times that he could have been doing this with Lan Sizhui instead.
Soon, he would.
-
Come morning, Jin Ling dutiful returned to the gate of the Unclean Realm. Just like before the disciples guarding the entrance stared him down in disapproval, but this time they let him in almost immediately, and Jin Ling was again led by Qinghe Nie’s first disciple toward Nie Huaisang’s office. This time there was already tea waiting for him when he got there, and the pile of paperwork on Nie Huaisang’s desk looked a good deal smaller and neater. Either he had worked hard to free some time, or he had hidden away anything sensitive to make sure Jin Ling wouldn’t get too curious. Jin Ling figured he would have done the same, and decided to take no offence.
Instead, he put a small pouch of candies on the desk, by the teapot. Nie Huaisang threw him a sharp look for that but pinched his lips so he wouldn't ask any questions. Jin Ling sat down and shrugged.
“You used to bring those to Jinlin Tai when I was little, even if nobody but you would eat them. I figured you had to like them, and since you’re helping me and all…”
“I see good memory runs in the family,” Nie Huaisang noted, glaring at the candies yet making no movement to take one. As if Jin Ling would have poisoned him. It was a coward’s method of murder, Jiang Cheng always said, and Jin Ling was no coward. “Did you write a letter, Jin zongzhu?”
“I did,” Jin Ling confirmed, digging into his sleeve for the latest draft which he handed to Nie Huaisang. “I think it’s pretty good.”
In answer Nie Huaisang just rolled his eyes, and started reading. Jin Ling realised he was getting nervous, as if that odd man’s approval actually mattered in any way. To distract himself he drank some tea, and helped himself to a few candies. They were pretty much nothing but sugar, which made his teeth ache. How could anyone enjoy something like that? Maybe Nie Huaisang had just wanted to be a pest back then, bothering everyone with shitty candies.
“It’s acceptable,” Nie Huaisang said at last, returning the letter to Jin Ling. “Not great, but a clear improvement over the things you tend to say in person.”
“I can rewrite it again,” Jin Ling muttered, disappointed that all his efforts got him so little praise. “If you show me what to change…”
“No, the imperfections are necessary,” Nie Huaisang explained, opening his fan. “If it is too polished, it will be obvious that you’re not writing alone. It really isn’t so bad, anyway. Better than when your father… well, nevermind that. You’re not doing so bad. And inviting him to a Night Hunt is smart, I’m surprised you thought of it.”
“You don’t think it’s too bold?” Jin Ling asked.
“He’s a Lan, they don’t see Night Hunts as a prelude to flirtation,” Nie Huaisang said, before grimacing. “I wish I’d known that when I was young, actually. So don’t hope for anything more than a pleasant moment with a friend. Well, pleasant if you enjoy Night Hunting, which apparently some people do.”
Jin Ling huffed. Of course he liked Night Hunting. Any decent cultivator did. But of course, Nie Huaisang was hardly a decent cultivator, no matter how you looked at it, and his dislike of Night Hunts was no big secret. He only showed up if he had absolutely no choice, Jin Guangyao used to complain, and then he was such a hindrance that everyone would have been better off without him, especially poor Lan Xichen who’d had to rescue him more than once.
But still Nie Huaisang would go and try, Jin Ling remembered. He didn’t enjoy it, but he tried, at least if Lan Xichen was also present. And Lan Xichen did look happy about that, whenever it happened. Really happy, instead of just polite.
It really was too bad that these two had fallen out like that, because they’d seemed to have a good influence on each other, aside from the one murder. Not that any of this was Jin Ling’s business, of course, and he presently held little affection for either man.
And yet...
“Since we’re on the topic of letters. Have you ever thought of writing to Zewu-Jun?” Jin Ling asked, because if it were him having such a huge argument with someone he loved, maybe he would want someone to butt in and help. He wouldn’t like it, but he’d want it. “Because maybe…”
“I have written to Gusu Lan a few times on official business,” Nie Huaisang coldly cut him, closing his fan with a snap. “Aside from this, I have no reason to correspond with anyone there.”
“But maybe you could…”
“I have nothing to say to Lan Xichen,” Nie Huaisang explained, reopening his fan with an impatient flourish. “You see, I am not sorry for what I’ve done,” he said with a cruel smile. “Your uncle deserved to die. He was an awful man, who did awful things, and if I’d truly had my way, he would have died an awful death.”
Jin Ling, who’d thought that losing an arm, being stabbed by his closest friend, and then having his neck snapped by the enraged fierce corpse of one of his victims only to be trapped with said fierce corpse for a century to suffer untold torment had been a pretty awful way to die already, couldn’t help a frown.
He made a decision to never ask Nie Huaisang what he would have preferred to see happen to Jin Guangyao.
“I know what Lan Xichen wants to hear from me,” Nie Huaisang continued, fanning himself. “He most likely wants me to say that I’m sorry. And I could say it. I’m a very good liar, if I do say so myself. So I could lie to him, say exactly what he wants to hear, be exactly the man he wants me to be…” He paused and grimaced in disgust. “But in that case, I would just have turned into another Jin Guangyao.”
“And you don’t want to become like him.”
“I am like him,” Nie Huaisang snapped with such rage that Jin Ling jumped on his seat. “I can’t change that now. I am a good liar, but I’ve decided long ago I wouldn’t lie to myself, and I know what I am. As for Lan Xichen, in spite of his blindness, in spite of his errors, he deserves better than to fall prey to another liar. And that’s why I cannot…”
“You really should write to him,” Jin Ling insisted. “And tell him all that stuff. I mean, since you don’t have regrets and you know you're an asshole, then it’s no big deal telling him things as they are, right? And then at least he gets to know the full truth. You old people really should be more honest instead of making everything complicated all the time.”
Nie Huaisang glared at him, as cold and angry as he’d been the day before, but Jin Ling realised it was already starting to lose its effect on him. It wasn’t so different from when Jiang Cheng threatened to break his legs over every single little annoyance.
Well, it was a little different in that Jin Ling still wasn’t sure Nie Huaisang wouldn’t murder him if he was certain to get away with it, but it was still the same general sentiment.
Jin Ling didn’t even mind that Nie Huaisang impatiently ordered him to leave, grumbling about disrespectful children, time wasted on educating idiotic youths, and how he refused to be involved in this any further. This, too, Jin Ling had heard before from his uncle, and he’d learned to ignore it all.
If the letter and the Night Hunt didn’t work, Jin Ling knew for sure he could come and ask for Nie Huaisang’s help again.
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luciferloser · 3 years
Text
Demon brothers & Undateables react to an MC with a preteen child
(As you might have guessed by now, GN MC!)
(the child’s gender may be specified in some of the scenarios)
(Y/C/N = your child’s name)
Spoilers for lesson 16 in Belphie’s section!!
Lucifer
Toddler or Preteen, it didn’t make much difference to the eldest brother. He’s seen all the stages of development with the majority of his brothers and Satan, there’s probably nothing your child could possibly throw his way that would shock him.
That is, until he actually met your child. At first he remained at his full height to assert dominance, there was no way he was going to stoop to this human’s level not that his back would allow it anyways. But then, before he could even properly introduce himself, your 12 year old squared his shoulders and declared to the Avatar of Pride, if he did anything to hurt you, your son would make his life hell... oh wait. 
That bold statement did surprise Lucifer at first, but as your son trailed off and stepped back slightly, realising his mistake, he couldn’t help but laugh. “Kudos, young man, but I don’t think there’s much you can do that can torment me terribly.” he chuckled. 
“Wanna bet?” your son grumbled in response, already thinking of numerous ways to make this strange man pay.
“I have six younger brothers, I’d like to see you come up with anything they haven’t.” he smirked in response, “Anyways, come along, preparations for your room have been completed.” 
With that, Lucifer turned away from your son and strode down the corridor. This year was certainly going to be interesting...
Mammon
The Avatar of Greed didn’t really know what to say when he saw you standing next to a slightly smaller version of yourself. At first, he thought you were siblings, but then it dawned on him that you had a child. 
Mammon, as the ‘babysitter’ naturally spent more time around your daughter than you, but that certainly didn’t stop him from adding the odd flirtatious remark to you when he wasn’t being a tsundere. 
It was this development that caused your daughter to speak up one evening when she was chilling in the lounge with Mammon and Asmodeus. “Listen, Mammon, as much as I don’t mind you flirting with my parent, there’s something you ought to know. Hurt them and I swear to you now I will kick you so hard up the ass you’ll taste nothing but my shoe for a week.” your daughter boldly announced, not once glancing up from her phone. 
While Asmo was busy rolling on the floor in tears of laughter, the white-haired demon just spluttered as his cheeks darkened. “H-hey what makes you think I-I’d hurt ya ma anyways.” he tried to defend himself.
“I’m not saying I expect you’re going to hurt them, just giving you even more of an incentive not to.” your child smiled in an almost sickeningly sweet manner before jumping up from the sofa. 
“This was a lovely chat but me and Beel are going out for lunch, catch you later!”
Asmo picked himself up from the floor, and as he pushed Mammon’s jaw back up, he added “she’d be the perfect niece for me, hurry up and take MC out on a date.” With that, Mammon shook his head slightly as he went to go and find you. He wasn’t sure whether he hoped the attitude came from you or not...
Leviathan
When the otaku heard the news that the exchange student had a child, he was quite nervous. One human was going to be enough to handle, let alone an additional smaller one. 
His fears only worsened when you left him alone with your child for the first time. The two of you had been gaming as you usually did once a week and your child wanted in this time. You stood up at the end of that round, promising that you were going to get the three of you drinks and some snacks. Before Levi could even protest, you had already closed the door behind you.
The demon of Envy’s eyes darted all around his room, looking anywhere but at the small human. That is until your spawn child murmured his name. Snapping his head round to face your child, his eyes widened slightly.
“Okay so I get you don’t really hang out with ‘normies’ or whatever that’s supposed to mean, but if you really don’t wanna be with my parent then tell them that. I’m not gonna let you hurt them like that.” your child confessed, eyes never once leaving his.
After that confession, Leviathan got a faraway look in his eyes as he thought of the resemblance to an anime he’d just finished binge watching last night; ‘my human best friend has a child that is secretly a guardian angel!’. 
Snapping out of his reverie, Levi looked down at your child once more and nodded his head profusely. ‘I solemnly swear to you I will protect them.’ he recited the lines the protagonist from the anime had used, but he meant every word he said.
Satan
Being the youngest of his brother’s meant Satan had never really had anybody to be a role model for. Which is why, surprisingly, he felt compelled to look out for your child when he first met you both. Especially because your child was already past the unnecessary crying stage and had a pretty solid understanding of communication.
Your child had never really been an extrovert and so the avatar of wrath hadn’t been too opposed to looking after your carbon copy when you were busy being pulled in every which direction by his brothers. On one of those days, your child had accompanied Satan to the library to find some more books to occupy themselves with; seeing as they weren’t technically enrolled at RAD there was no need for them to complete any class work.
“Hey Satan, can I ask you something?” Your child enquired, glancing up from their novel.
“Hm? What’s on your mind, Y/C/N?”
“Why do you look at my parent like they hung the stars in the sky? And don’t say you don’t, because I spoke to Asmo about it too and he couldn’t agree more.” Your smaller version of yourself asked, tilting their head slightly.
Blinking rapidly in surprise at the question, Satan gawped at your child before shaking his head slightly. “You shouldn’t ask Asmo questions like that. He’s the avatar of lust - not love. I know for a fact he thinks I’m looking at them like-“
“Gross! I don’t need to hear about things like that, I’m gonna go hang out with Simeon if you’re gonna talk about that.” Wrinkling their nose in disgust, your child stood up to leave, packing his books with him. Smiling to himself as he watched Y/C/N leave, he thought to himself ‘I guess I need to have a chat with Y/N’
Asmodeus
The avatar of lust couldn’t help but squeal in delight when he took in the sight of you standing with your child. He had not one, but two new friends to go out clubbing with! What? What do you mean Y/C/N isn’t allowed to go clubbing? Well that’s boring. Oh well, they can always just go shopping together and Asmo can arrange some fashion shows for you and your child. In fact, yesterday he bought the cutest coat and it would suit Y/C/N so well.
Speaking of going shopping together, one night when you and Beel had gone out to Madame Screams to try some of the new ice cream on offer, Asmo had invited Y/C/N back to his room for a self care night after shopping all day. Applying a face mask to his skin and your daughter’s, he laid beside her to let the mask dry.
“Hey Asmo, I have a question for you.” your child stated, staring up at the canopy that covered the demon of lust’s bed.
“If its about that brunette demon that held the door open for you at River Styx he’s single but there’s so many nicer demon’s out there for you and I’m pretty sure he-“
“No! It’s not about him. I admit he was cute but that’s not what I wanted to ask. What I wanted to ask was, whether you were interested in anybody...” your daughter trailed off, suddenly feeling bad for prying.
“Oh honey, while you’re an absolute treasure and I have loved spending time with you lately I don’t think we’d be a very good match at all. If I’m honest I’m more interested in Y/N. I’m so sorry you had to find out this way- why are you laughing?” Asmodeus stopped his spiel of an apology at the sound of your daughter’s chuckles.
“I’M not into you like that either, babe. I only asked for my parent’s sake. They’re head over heels for you and I just wanted to see if you felt the same.” Your daughter confessed, rising from Asmo’s bed to find a washcloth. “When they get back from the ice cream store with Beel, you should totally ask them out. Watch how quickly they’ll stumble to agree.” And with that, your daughter left the avatar of lust alone with his thoughts of you.
Beelzebub
“Did the human bring a snack with them?”
That was the first thing the redhead ever said to you and your teen son. Needless to say it took a while for your son to warm up to Beel after that. When the situation was explained to the glutton felt very guilty afterwards and went above and beyond to make it up to him.
One afternoon when the three of you were supposed to go to a new cafe that had just opened, Lucifer wanted to go over some paperwork with you, and so Beel offered to take your son out anyways and promised to try to save you a cupcake. Your son didn’t look too thrilled at the idea of going out for food with the demon who thought he was the snack, but reluctantly agreed for your sake.
“Look, Beelzebub I have to be honest with you. You seem nice enough and all, but I still don’t trust you especially knowing you could swallow us whole and thought about doing that the first time we met you. But on the flip side, you did protect Luke from Lucifer a while ago. So I suppose I can learn to trust you, is what I’m trying to say.” Y/C/N stated as he brought a mug of spiced tea to his lips, looking over at the demon who went wide eyed at the sudden confession.
Swallowing the rest of the cheesecake in his mouth, Beel nodded earnestly, “No its okay! I’m not surprised you don’t trust me, after what i said to you I wouldn’t blame you if you hated me. I know this probably isn’t what you want to hear, but i care about you, you’re basically family at this point. And I care about Y/N too; quite a bit actually.” By the end of his sentence, the demon’s face was almost as red as his hair.
“Hmph, I figured as much. If you care about them even half as much as you say you do, say something. You might be surprised what you find out.” Your son smirked, leaning back in his seat to take in the blushing demon before him.
Belphegor
Unsurprisingly, your son had a blatant distaste for Belphegor when they met officially. Watching your body fall still in Mammon’s arms to then disappear was enough to send him charging at the sloth demon. Even after Barbatos’ assistance on the matter and bringing you back, Y/C/N held the iciest glare he could muster. Laying a hand on his shoulder, you assured him you were okay and didn’t hurt anymore.
“Put it this way Belphegor. I never want to see you within touching distance of us again. Demon or not, I will not hesitate to swing for you. Nobody hurts my family.” Y/C/N spat, turning on his heel and tugging you with him.
After weeks of awkward meal times, you and Beel hatched a plan to get your son and his twin talking. You had forgiven Belphie for what happened, understanding that he’d had his own family in mind when he attacked you.
“Oh. Y/C/N have you seen Y/N? They wanted me to meet them here.” Belphegor asked, avoiding eye contact with your son the entire time.
“I wanted to ask you the same thing about Beel, he said-” your son was cut off by the sound of the living room door slamming shut and the lock clicking in place. “Is this some kind of joke? Mammon if that’s you and this is your idea of a joke you’re not funny! Open the door!”
There was no answer from the other side of the door, the only sound being that of a pair of retreating footsteps. Sighing in defeat, your son slid down the door and glancing at Belphegor, to see him looking just as uncomfortable as Y/C/N felt. “Well, there’s no telling how long we’re gonna be in here. I feel like I owe you an explanation...” The sloth demon began, wringing his hands together as he prepared to tell your son everything.
A few hours later, you and Beel opened the door slowly to reveal your son and Belphegor dozing on one another. Smiling at each other in victory, the two of you crept closer and wrapped them in one of the blankets on the back of the sofa. You had to admit, this was the most peaceful the two of them had looked in a long time.
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