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#I mean the name on its own still won’t mean anything to people but hopefully it would sound more enticing than just ODAD
dragonologist-phd · 6 months
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One thing I really should do is give the series an actual name. It has enough fics now to warrant it and just saying “ODAD-verse” means absolutely nothing to anyone but me and maybe 2 other people
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dreamsgazer · 2 years
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Day 3 - Holiday Food
12 Days of Christmas
Warnings: Some minor swearing, mention of sex but no smut or anything graphic.
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I wasn’t exactly surprised when Lemon told me that most of the Twins’ Christmas meals used to come out from a frozen plastic tray, when they were children. 
I was more surprised however, that things haven’t changed much now that they can definitely afford food worthy of its name.
Lemon grabs an apple from the Murano fruit bowl Tangerine and I bought in Venice for him during our last romantic gateway “I guess the holidays are not really a huge thing when you risk to be abroad during them because you have a mission.”
He bites the fruit, shrugging “I mean, we put on the decorations and all the stuff, but we never know if we will be in London to enjoy them during the actual day. They are still nice, though,” he adds, looking around with pride. I let my gaze take in the decorations he has picked during one of our longest shopping trips earlier in December. While my Tangerine definitely likes the more traditional - and obscenely expensive - decorations, carefully arranged with measure in the halls of his penthouse, Lemon is... eclectic.
If I must find a theme, I will definitely go with Winter Wonderland Candyland & Glittering Stuff that Lemon randomly liked. It works, though, in its own way. Exactly like Lemon.
I stop staring at a glittery tree decoration shaped like Thomas the Tank Engine –  one of the many, many Thomas ornaments spread around us ”Well, since this year you both are going to be around to enjoy them, how about we organize a proper Christmas lunch?”
”That’s a good idea,” his face lights up with sheer delight “we can have turkey and festive punch and all the good stuff! We can phone a restaurant and see if they deliver on Christmas day!”
“Or I could do it!”
Lemon looks at me, his eyebrows lifting in surprise “You mean you are willing to cook us a meal?”
“Not a meal,” I tut with fake annoyance “but a full, complete, hopefully tasty Christmas lunch.”
He seems at loss for words, but not displeased. I shrug “Listen Lem, you guys always do nice things for me, all the time, so it seems only natural I want to reciprocate.”
“Well, you are banging my brother and you are a sweet, fun person to have around,” he interrupts me with a huge grin “It’s no big deal to be nice with you!”
I hope I’m not blushing at both the brotherly teasing and the sweet compliment “Uh, thanks I guess. But that’s my point: it’s no big deal to cook a nice meal for people I care about. Especially for Christmas!”
He still seems reluctant to accept my offer so I insist “If this makes you feel better, I can let you help me. Tangerine is out of question,” I quickly add “I love him to the moon and back, but I would like not to set my kitchen on fire! Or having the turkey thrown in frustration outside the window! Or-”
“Yes, point taken, darling, thank you very much.”
We both turn on our tall stools in time to see Tangerine entering Lemon’s kitchen with a pouting expression, back from his tailoring session for a new suit. 
“Already back?” Lemon asks.
“Yeah, just in time to listen to the two of you trash talk my cooking skills”
”What skills?”
Tangerine flips him off, making his brother laugh “C’mon mate, do you remember when you tried to make us a Crisp Sandwich and you somehow destroyed the packet and then smashed the crisps?”
”I was fucking ten, Lemon!” is the indignant reply.
”So was I, but my packet didn’t look like a T-rex had gone through it.”
I try not to laugh, gently grabbing Tangerine’s tailored jacket and forcing him to bend over where I’m sitting. I kiss him lightly, the familiar tickle of his moustache a welcomed and well-known added sensation “Sorry, T, I didn’t mean to offend you.”
I’m aware that while he’s not annoyed for real, some cuddles are not going to hurt. He likes them too much even if he won’t ever voice that out loud. 
Tangerine huffs against my lips, wrapping an arm around my shoulders “Kiss me again and maybe I will consider buying you a nice Christmas present, you naughty little thing.”
Lemon pretends to gag in the background, and I laugh pushing my lips against Tangerine’s. He lingers a moment longer, then straightens himself “So, Christmas Lunch, uh? Do you think I have enough culinary skills to help you at least with the groceries?”
I want to reply something sweet and warm, but Lemon interjects with a devilish grin “I fear not. Do you remember two years ago when I asked you to buy some custard and you came back with a jar of mustard?”
My snort is covered by Tangerine’s frustrated groan “Oh, fuck off, would you?”
”Don’t worry, love,” I pat his arm affectionately “We’ll let you pick the wine. Maybe.”
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monzamash · 5 months
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just don’t understand why u keep saying you’ve gone off daniel because of ‘what he said/did earlier in the season’ yet ur perfectly happy to write for lando who also made questionable comments idk just feels hypocritical. what made landos comments ok but daniels so horrid lol it makes no sense 👍 if u want to be a daniel hater just come out and say it instead of being all coy about it and pretending like ur not being weird about it cause u say u won’t write for him and then u update ur layout and put up a picture of it lmao so which is it
i don’t know if this is the same anon that’s been sending me shit every second day for months about this - i’m going to give you the benefit of the doubt and say it’s not because of the way you’ve typed this out but the message is still the same and this is the last straw.
i don’t hate daniel. if you look at my last post i said that he’s a big part of why i fell in love with f1. he was also the reason i started this blog so just because i’m not writing for him now, doesn’t mean i hate him. it’s not as black and white for me as it seems to be for you.
writing doesn’t define my blog - its something i do when i feel like it and most of the time i’m either chatting with you guys on here or supporting other writers. it was a fun escape but lately it’s been the opposite of that.
people may not like this but in my opinion daniels comments were significantly more damaging than landos vague response to a question that nobody could factually corroborate. i don’t think i’m alone in thinking that. daniel straight up said the one thing i personally hate the most when someone’s defending an abuser which is, “well [insert name] has always been good to me so…” that’s what upset me the most and now i have no desire to write for him. that is simply how i feel and if you don’t agree/understand, it’s all good. try and find other blogs who do share your views. makes life a lot easier.
anyway, did daniels comments make me want to erase every trace of him from my blog? no but i made it clear that i wouldn’t be writing for him for the foreseeable future and if anything changed, i would give people the heads up. what i absolutely won’t be doing is caving in to bullies who hide behind a shadow on the fucking internet who say i that i should delete my blog and myself while i’m at it.
so the context of why i made a header with daniel in it was that i thought including him would allow people the chance to bounce if they don’t want to read any daniel fics or interact with a blog that had a lot of daniel content in the past - people hate him and have made sure to tell me how fucked i am to still have his fics in my masterlist. thats the sort of hate that really gets to me because i’m so proud of some of those fics and spent a lot of time on them. that’s one reason why I won’t ever delete them but it’s also because there are daniel fans out there who hopefully feel like they can still interact with me even if we don’t share the exact same opinion. i don’t want that to change.
another thing to note is that this header was up for like two seconds and the fact you saw it must mean you’re just stalking my page? are you checking in to call me out the second i do something wrong? and you think i’m weird? alright lol
lastly, saying i’m being coy and weird isn’t fair - i’ve been honest about where i stand and even when i’ve been unsure, i was still being upfront and owning the fact that i didn’t know what direction this blog would take after all that. so if what i’ve said in this post or in the past isn’t enough for you, then just leave please. literally leave me alone because i don’t want to do this anymore.
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psychic-refugee · 2 years
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It’s so painfully obvious there is no critical thinking in a lot of people reacting. I’m sure it’s a good and even mix of people who are young and are having knee jerk reactions, and there are others who are trolls capitalizing on a potential “safe” person to shit on, this applies to both the accused and the accuser. Either way, those responding are just so confidently spewing an opinion either way with little to no concrete evidence.
Believe Women/Victims does not mean believe them and skip due process or a trial. It’s “don't assume women as a gender are especially deceptive or vindictive, and recognize that false allegations are less common than real ones.” Doyle, Jude (30 November 2017). Despite What You May Have Heard, “Believe Women” Has Never Meant “Ignore Facts”. Elle, https://www.elle.com/culture/career-politics/a13977980/me-too-movement-false-accusations-believe-women/
Believe Women means to take their story at face value and allow them room to tell their story. It does not mean we don’t look at or don’t question the evidence she is putting forward.
Screenshots over the internet with no metadata is not evidence. A twitter handle isn’t even evidence of a real person. For all I know, these people are anti-Canadian psy-ops. With all the ways to manipulate images and even video, I would never base any opinion on anything I saw from a third party. Acknowledge that it COULD be authentic and ask more questions. Ask for the metadata. If she could screenshot it, that means its still on her phone.
Questioning evidence is not supporting the accused. Please believe me that you do not want to live in a world where there is a crime that we literally take on word alone. That won’t end well for anybody.
So, do I think all accusations should be believed at face value (believe women) and should be investigated? Yes. Do I think PHW should be subject to a deposition after the Canadian authorities gather evidence with hopefully preserved cell phones metadata and cell phone records, if indicted? Yes. Do I think all the accusers should be subject to deposition? Yes. Do I think all of PHW’s “friends” named or referred to in the accusations should also be deposed? Yes. Should a timeline be established, and the accused be given a chance to refute or give an alibi? Yes. Should both sides be granted full access to all evidence they plan to use at trial and use their own expert witness to speak on the evidence? Yes. Should both sides also speak on the evidence they proffer to give context? Yes.
If any of the accusers had attempted to go to authorities and they were quickly dismissed without any further investigation, should those authorities be held accountable as well? Yes.
Is the timing suspicious? NO. Timing is never suspicious IMO. There are so many reasons why a victim would not come forward “immediately.” One being that if they were ignored previously, then their statements are less likely to be ignored if there is an audience. If the world were perfect, then these accusations could be made relatively soon after the event and dealt with properly in the first instance. But it’s not a perfect world. Victims aren’t taken seriously, or maybe their accusation goes to the back of the line due to restricted or limited resources. Perhaps the accuser was so traumatized they needed time to process. Maybe they needed time to even admit they were assaulted at all. There is so much guilt and shame that can go into being a victim of assault, that people seem to conveniently forget or glaze over. There are a million reasons for delay, so timing is not any indication of fabrication.
There’s also this nebulous idea of the “right time” to come forward is. It’s a moving goal post, and honestly just shouldn’t be a question. It’s really only asked to undermine the accuser’s character and not a testament of what happened.
We should also remember that the accuser is not on trial (and technically no one is as of this post as no criminal charges have even been filed, nor a civil suit). The job of the accuser is to a) make the accusation and charge, and b) have evidence to corroborate their accusation that can stand up to scrutiny. That’s it. They should not have to defend themselves before you have the accused defend themselves.
One of the absolute worst takes I’ve read so far is seeing PHW’s social media accounts go silent/not allowing comments is somehow indicative of guilt. NO. If you ever find yourself in legal trouble SHUT UP and lawyer up. This whole idea that you have to immediately take some sort of defensive position in public, is just the worst take and terrible legal advice.
Also, what does allowing randos on social media comment on your pages do for your defense? The court isn’t going to take outside party Twitter comments as signed affidavits or depositions. Allowing people to shit on you or “simp” for you is not a good defense. There needs to be a legal hold equivalent to shutting down ALL socials when you get into legal trouble, where the accused is not allowed to delete or edit posts. Also, close off all avenues of you potentially incriminating yourself, or anything you say being used against you. It’s the same in America as it is in Canada: Anything you say can be used against you. Innocent people misspeak or say stupid shit just as guilty people do.
PHW has the privilege of probably having legal counsel on retainer, if not by his own coffers then Netflix or whatever talent agency that represents him. People have a vested monetary interest in his career. That means, as soon as The Powers That Be of his talent team knew of these accusations, they told him to shut the fuck up. ANY attorney, or even PR person until they get the attorney, will tell you this. Being legally literate and proactive is not a sign of guilt.
Given the climate of Hollywood, I also wouldn’t be surprised if his team had told him BEFORE any accusation hit that if this sort of thing happened, the protocol is to SHUT THE FUCK UP.
A good lawyer is a prepared lawyer. Having good counsel and listening to them, is not an indication of guilt. Don’t ever let anyone tell you otherwise.
His silence could be so many things. Maybe he’s getting reamed out by Netflix and his agency, soon to be dropped by both. Maybe his team is doing a lot of damage control and is trying to curate a response. It’s literally only been a day AND he was overseas. He may have spent half the day flying back to Canada to deal with this.
It’s also very possible he and his team are putting together a case. If the accuser is speaking of the issue on Twitter without any advice from counsel, his team could potentially be waiting for her to say something incriminating. They’re giving her time to damage her own story. With an accusation like this, silence and going dark would have been her better option.
I understand that she may have felt she had no choice but to release the accusation on Twitter, especially if the police “did nothing.” I won’t judge her going to social media, I really don’t know her motivation and I don’t want to speculate as I don’t think that has anything to do with the accusations themselves.
Those dealing with trauma cannot be expected to make perfect legal decisions.
What I want to happen is that they do things by the book, so we can get the best shot at the truth, whatever that ends up being.
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fucktanner · 2 years
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here we go, i’m just gonna hope i can make some internet friends.
so,
my name is tanner. i’m a bloke i’m single af and married 😎 i’m based in australia. (and no, homie we cannot tell what happens and who dies because we’re one day ahead of u americans.) i was born on april 2nd , 2008. (omg my birthday is in 11 days .) i’m OBSESSED with olivia rodrigo (if you couldn’t tell already) and jenna ortega. i’m mainly gonna post anything i feel like on here (yes i will do posts abt liv and jenna) anyway, i listen to heaps of music and most of its a combination of rap and pop music. i like to listen to olivia rodrigo, sofaygo, playboi carti, kerser, chillinit, huskii, jack harlow, freewyo, travis scott, don toliver, and heaps more!! i like a few movies. i used to be shyt scared of scary movies and now i can’t get enough of them. like, i watched scream 5 like august/october last year and i loved scary movies after that (and omg scream 6 was amazing) i recently watch scream 6 & scream 1. (the original.) and they’re all really good. i watched scream 6 with my aunty, nan & cousin. when it started i got like, heaps of adrenaline (please don’t think i’m crazy.) i play a few video games. i used to play a whole lot of fortnite. honestly died in me o really can’t get back into that game anymore. i play minecraft. and a lot of car games. i run a jenna page on instagram and soon gonna hopefully start a liv page ♡ my favourite songs rn are: jealousy jealousy by liv, got damn! by faygo, never seen me fall (ft. jean.) by kerser, mama by rudy mancuso, servo by huskii, and kids are growing up by the kid laroi (hopefully he drops wjh soon 😿) i’m currently studying street art, money counts, and forensic science in school. i don’t have many friends anymore, i mean. i talk to some of my old friends from primary school. (which is like 3) i also think thats the main reason i’m antisocial and always in my own world all the time. i’ve always had a small circle of friends. like if i could, i still wouldn’t want a heap of friends. i recently cut someone off (bc they weren’t the most honest and nicest person. they also believed rumours that weren’t true.) which makes my circle even smaller. one of my best friends would be my cousin for the most part. like they’re cool. and i can trust them lol. which it’s usually the opposite with most people. i was in my first relationship from Sunday, October 30th it ended on Saturday 28th if January this year. i won’t lie, i loved her i just personally think i’m better off by myself. that’s all i’ma say, let me know if you have any questions / concerns. :)
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rainset · 2 years
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D O G XXXI
It’s a silent arrival. Jungle rains patter against massive swirling trees and foliage. At least here, he feels as big as a normal person among the trees.
DOG’s giant claws gently step onto roots and stems of ancient flora. Desaturated verdancy surround him when he wishes to see the ground.
When exiting his larger body, it leans over, moving over metals and softer films to allow him exit. He felt the detachment. Something wriggled back from his neck. It’s a cold metal, flat but spinal.
It takes a moment to get used to his new form of sight. He blinks. Everything feels refreshed.. but a echo of dread calls out to him from former memory. He feels that spinal snake thing from his neck. It’s apart of him now, this link. He pulls on it and it stretches out to where he can see it. There’s a sharp blade at its end. Small rows of ports embedded. It’s inner cord is soft, flesh like, red.
But something notifies him of all material components as well as purpose, function. A neural link between him and other forms of physical and virtual data— be it organic or inorganic.
He lets go of it, snapping back. Subconsciously slithering down flat to his neck.
Slowly, he gets up, stumbling at first, then falling out from the chest cavity— into his own hand.
It’s strange. Limbs not attached but still present. Ghost like. He turns up and looks at his other self.
It is still— a snouted gnashing monster. Rows of canines with four prominent sabers towards the front. It’s not exactly a dog or wolf. Seeing it with restoration gives reason to its name: it is a demon. A snouted humanoid, its eye sockets full of blood and disgusting tubes shoved in past its molars, causing a constant secretion to come past them. It breathes too, as if it is alive. Strange enough— it’s inner flesh, the mouth, the gums— are white.
White like…
That part of his face. The one that shows things that most don’t want to see.
He looks to his hand.
It’s that same white. Recycled flesh, now coating his entire body. His body isn’t that of a boys anymore either. He doesn’t recognize these limbs, these dark nails, and he’s glad he can’t see his face, his.. other face.
He can’t picture what it is.
Looking up, rain drops hit his eyes and run off. He doesn’t blink but enjoys the soothing. Something in his mind, searches the waves.
There’s contact.
Rosalina: “Who- Jeremy? That you..?”
A voice speaks, one that is foreign to him.
It doesn’t sound like his.
Dog: “Yes.”
There’s a silent moment.
Rosalina: “What’s happened to your voice, is this.. that machine’s automated or-?”
Dog: “I don’t know. I just responded.”
There’s a little bit of static.
Rosalina: “Well, we just landed. People want to speak with you— I’m going to plead your case. Hopefully you won’t get charged with anything, I mean, you’re just a kid!”
Dog is silent. Looking at himself again, his body was no longer a child’s. His mind is melded with another’s and that too is taking it’s toll.
He starts feeling naked.
Nanons crawl onto his smaller form, giving him an ideal cover for his body. He lowers his larger hand down.
Finally he takes his first steps.
Rosalina: “Can you get coordinates?”
Without thinking, Dog sent out the request. In an instant, he knows where to go.
Dog: “I’ll be there.”
Rosalina: “Okay- be there soon!”
End of transmission.
He’s alone again.
Dog commands his larger body to nestle itself to be somewhere hidden and rest. Nanons continued their work.
Dog continues to walk. But slowly.. it all starts to creep into his mind.
And he can’t perish these thoughts.
——
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tittyblade · 3 years
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tumblr etiquette 101
a list that is nowhere near exhaustive, from yours truly.
First off, welcome! Whether you’re a twitter veteran looking for anything but whatever twitter is, or a new user just done signing up, glad to see you in our ranks beloveds! Welcome home. Refer to this quick tour to make sure your fandom experience (or tumblr experience in general) is a positive one!
Disclaimer: I know it’s long, but please try to read or skim through til the end if you’re new here! This is by no means meant to be a rule book (for the most part lol), only a guide to help you get settled easier!
1) Your blog
This is where people will see and interact with you, so put some effort into it!
Try to choose a name (url) that’s simple. You can see it as your brand, it’s how people will perceive you and remember you. If you’d like to interact with other users here (and not use the site just for the content) it’s better to have something short and sweet, preferably without spaces. (Of course, these are only suggestions.) Rest assured, you can change it literally any time you want.
Have a theme. Utilize the tool that lets you edit your blog’s color or the font of your bio! You can make it match your profile picture, or your blog if it has a theme of its own. Make it feel homey :]
Fill in your bio. People will be checking out your profile probably more often than you think. Don’t leave it empty! Put in any information you’re comfortable with sharing and isn’t too personal (like your age if you’re a minor, or other TMI that can be found on other people’s carrds). It’s always better to add a name/nickname people can use to refer to you by, but feel free to use your blog description to shitpost still.
You can have an intro post. More often than not, you’ll see a blog have a pinned post, a post permanently appearing at the top of a blog until you pin another post or unpin it. You can make one of those, if you’d like to introduce yourself in more length, link any other socials or a carrd, and show others visiting your blog how you tag things so it’ll be easy for them to navigate. Not an obligation.
Keep your anonymity and your safety. It should go without saying, but there’s no harm in repeating it just in case. Your comfort, privacy and safety has the utmost importance. Don’t share any information you don’t want to. Don’t share your age if you’re a minor, or any other incredibly personal info. I’d encourage you to go by a nickname that’s not your real name, (blog name, your brand, remember?) since there’s safety in anonymity, and that’s lowkey one of the big deals of tumblr, but that’s up to you still.
Choose what you want to be visible. Your liked posts and who you follow are all things you can set to keep to yourself and hide from the publics eye, how handy! You should go through all the setting while you’re at it, set it to your comfort.
Side blogs are a thing. You can have multiple blogs that you can use for different things (see: different fandoms, art blog, etc) to keep them organized or away from your followers. Just remember that the replies and off-anon asks you send will be from your main blog, as well as where you follow other blogs from.
2) Interacting with others
You’ve set up your account, now comes the fun part!
Follow to your heart’s desire. If you care about others seeing who you follow, fear not! In tumblr, usually only two types of blogs keep their following visible to others: newbies, and big blogs using it to point people on other good blogs’ direction. Just turn it off, and go ham following people.
Customize your dashboard. Gonna mention just two things here: this is another reason why it’s really important that you follow blogs without sparing, your dash will collect dust otherwise; and you should turn off “best stuff first” in your dashboard settings, to have a better community here and all.
Follow tags. You can set it in your settings that posts with your followed tags appear on your dashboard.
You can check the og post for edits and context. When you see a reblogged post you don’t understand the context of (or don’t recognize the character in case of fanarts), click on the profile so it will take you to the original post. From there you can check the original poster’s tags to get the context, or see if there have been any edits made to the post, since when you edit a post it doesn’t update any past reblogs.
Send people asks... This is how you make mutuals, people! Do it off-anon if you’d like them to know your blog, or anon if you’d rather not! (You can still end your messages with a signature to show you’re the same person, -[name] is one example.) Send them nice messages, ask their opinion on something, discuss things, or just straight up shitpost lol. Go wild. The sky’s your limit and it’s definitely more than 280 characters.
...and let them ask you! You can set your preference in the settings, do it on desktop tumblr to access more settings tho! What you can customize on mobile is limited (like letting people ask you things anonymously, that’s only on desktop settings). In my personal opinion, it’s always better to tag their username (or a nickname you give them, if they’re a friend) on that post, since you wouldn’t want your interactions with your friends to get buried in your blog forever.
Comment on posts. If you have something to say but don’t want the post to appear on your blog you can add a comment. The owner of the post will get a notif for it, but for anyone else you need to tag them.
For the love of god, reblog. People will only see your liked posts if you have it visible to public and they specifically go on your blog to look at them. You like something? You reblog. It’s already hard for posts to circulate properly, if you don’t reblog them literally no one will see them. If not for anything do it for the artists. Just hold and drag on mobile to fast rb.
3) Your Posts
Finally here! Don’t be a lurker, post and engage!
Make use of “read more”. If your post is long, add it. That’s what you clicked on earlier to expand this post. On desktop leave an empty line and you’ll see three dots appear, and on mobile type :readmore: on that empty line.
Draft a post to come back to it later. Pretty self explanatory.
Queue your post. Whether it’s your own post or you’re reblogging, make use of the queue feature to a) not spam reblog and fill up the dashboard of people following you and b) keep your blog active while you’re gone. Mess around in the settings, it’s fairly easy to set up.
Schedule your post. Same as queueing, the only difference is you get to choose the exact time your post will go up. Handy if you want to schedule a post for certain dates like april fools, or 5 years in the future for some reason. 
Format your texts. You can do all kinds of fancy stuff here (that’s a link, try pressing on it). Twitter doesn’t have this, make use of it. Changes depending on whether you’re on mobile or desktop. (Desktop has less features.)
Check your stats. If you’re trying to understand the algorithm better or want to look at some pretty graphs you can get your data on that on desktop tumblr.
@ people in comments. You’ll get all the notifs when people comment on your posts but they won’t see your reply unless you tag them in your message.
4) Tags, and tagging a post
This is where my earlier statement “this isn’t a rule book” stops being applicable. It’s not a war crime to go against these, I won’t come chasing you (don’t take my word for this) but you’ll work up a bad rep. Just saying lol.
Do NOT crosstag posts. It’s really tempting to add unrelated tags to increase your posts’ interaction, I know, but that’s not what tumblr is about. Don’t be a dick and make other communities’ experience worse for them.
Always tag your posts with “crit/critical/discourse/etc” if it calls for it. There’s no exceptions to it. This is the reason you see people migrating to tumblr. Let people enjoy things.
Don’t main tag a critical/negative post. If your crit post is about “Thing”, you add the “Thing critical” tag, but not the “Thing” tag. People block crit tags if they don’t want to see it, don’t shove it in their faces by main tagging it. 
If you don’t want to see something, just block it. Another reason why people are able to survive on tumblr. You don’t start discourse, you don’t make call-outs, you block. You can find something for every community you can think of if you go looking for it. The worst of the worst probably won’t ever appear on your dash, but if you’re worried or feel the need for it, you know where the block button is.
Feel free to shitpost or ramble. More often than not you’ll see people rb a post with a comment, and their elaboration will be in the tags. The tags are only visible on your profile and the notifications of the owner of the og blog. Just a thing people do.
Reblog artists’ posts with nice comments in the tags! Commenting on a drawing is usually done through the tags (Not an obligation, again, just a thing people do. Feel free to add your comment on the rb itself if you’d want other people to see it tho!) and leave nice messages for the artists! It’s a win-win for everyone involved. 
If you have more than a single follower, always use the common tw warning tags. You don’t need to tw everything, but tw’ing some common things is the bare minimum human decency. Keep it safe for others. 
Tag a post “long post” if it’s really long. Pretty self explanatory. Don’t make people scroll through all that please lol. 
You can use them to organize your blog. This is more of a pro tip, if you’d like to not miss a post in your blog, cause they will start pilin’ up soon enough.
#Liveblogging is pretty fun. If you’d like to talk to people during streams, don’t forget to add the relevant tags still! Again, you won’t show up on people’s dash otherwise.
Whew! That got out of hand. Hopefully I didn’t bore you too much. Check out blogs like @heritageposts and @hellsite-hall-of-fame to honor our past o7. @mcytblr-hall-of-fame too maybe :eyes:. Anyways, don’t forget the most important rule of them all:
Enjoy your stay! You’re meant to have fun on here while also making friends (if that’s your thing). Just be kind and respectful of others, you’ll get the hang of the rest! <3
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notnctu · 4 years
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push & pull | kim doyoung
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❀ slytherin!doyoung x hufflepuff!femreader ❀ genre - SLOW BURN, smut, fluff, a bit of humor (idk not rlly) ❀ details -  hogwarts!au, fwb to lovers?, y/n is a player lol, jealous doyoung, mutual pining, doyoung is a lil mean ❀ word count - 9.7k ❀ warnings - explicit language, possessiveness (a concept of marking), dom!doyoung, angry sex?, slight dirty talk, penetration, fingering, praise kink ❀ synopsis - in which a prideful slytherin and an oblivious hufflepuff play a clueless emotion game of tug of war.
❝I thought Hufflepuffs are to be loyal, so why do you sleep with other men?❞  
❝People say Slytherins are ambitious, so why didn’t you pursue me?❞ ❀ a/n - i changed the plot a little bit as i was writing lol but hopefully it still fits everything! i said this in the teaser, but i want to preface and say that the magic/marking is not canon to harry potter, and that the only thing im using are the sectional houses/subjects. besides that, everything is made up LMAO also pls b lenient with me, i read hogwarts!au but writing it is very out of my comfort zone and am very bad at creating anything magical 
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Kim Doyoung, the Slytherin boy of your dreams, mindlessly and imperfectly steals glances your way across the dining tables and under several hundred floating lit candles. He sits huddled with his few posh friends that wear the same green and silver tie situated so tightly underneath their necks. And you, just looking as dazzling as ever, with your yellow and black tie hanging loose and a few buttons undone from your dress shirt.
He hates how easily you catch his attention and his ability to spot your figure in a dense crowd. You barely even look his way in public now, often distracted by a broad Gryffindor that tries to make flirtatious advantages at you. And when he thinks it can’t get any worse, it does… as you’re flashing your bright beautiful smile back at him and the shift in your body language.
“You’re staring again.” Yuta flickers between his friend and the subject of his focus.
Doyoung clears his throat, smooths his tie and physically turns his body away from the horrendous scene. “It’s very hard not to stare when she’s flirting with other men in front of me.”
“Does she do it on purpose?” The silver haired boy raises a questionable eyebrow and Doyoung reacts before he can speak.
He perks up and narrows his eyes at Yuta. “Purpose? Like to make me jealous?” Doyoung scoffs, laughs almost at the ridiculous thought. “The answer is no. We’re not exclusive, we’re nothing.”
“If you two are nothing, then why are you acting like you two are something? Get a grip, it’s practically sickening watching you fume over a ditzy Hufflepuff.” As Yuta prepares to bite into his delicious soft bread roll, it flies out of his grip, down the long table and onto another person’s plate.
Both boys are quick to stand to their feet and face each other chest to chest. Neither one of them is intimidated by the other, but their other friends around them are rather shocked by the sudden discrepancy.
Doyoung forcibly brushes off an imaginary dust off his good friend’s shoulders and draws a perfectly strained fake smile, knowing that others may be watching and he is a Prefect after all. But most importantly, you could be watching. “Call her that again, and your dinner won’t be the only thing that’s thrown across the table.” His threat is loud enough solely for Yuta to hear.
Yuta, with glaring eyes, picks up his dinner tray and walks off with his chin held high and a brisk in his stride. Doyoung clears his throat in the midst of the brief silence and out of habit, fixes his tie back in place. He takes a seat back down and the chatter at the table resumes, but he’s beyond embarrassed and disappointed at his loss of temper that everything drowns out.
Almost everything. He feels a light tap on his shoulder and out of annoyance, he spins around hastily and sharply snarls, “what?” But his eyes land on your fearful wide eyes and the slight cower in your stance, knowing that you caught onto his bad mood. And he’s half in disbelief that you’re approaching him right in the center of the Great Hall, that you’re standing so beautiful a foot away from him.
Instant regret and guilt fills his chest, his sharp eyes soften at your pout and the concerned furrow in between your brows. Nonetheless, he doesn’t have any words to say… he can’t get himself to apologize for his behavior.
“Do you want to walk to Herbology with me?” The quiver in your voice made you seem so small, so desperate for him, that he can hear the reactions of his friends. They’re laughing, at him, at you, at the whole scene that’s unfolding. He feels mocked, being a laughing stock isn’t something he’s very fond of.
His lips form a tight line, and in a snarky tone, “you don’t know your own way, Puff? Mind you ask your own Prefect to guide you.” Fuck. He tried to find the nicest way possible to brush you off, but his friends laugh a bit louder and intensely. And you didn’t like that one bit.
Your lips part slightly in a frown, an eyebrow raised and a hand on your hip. You look as if you’re ready to attack him, to jinx him, to probably pinch at his skin. But he knows you, and you’d do none of the above. Instead, you say the one threat that causes his heart to sink into the pit of his stomach, “don’t talk to me in class.” You’re slipping away from him as you pick up your pace, exiting all the commotion in the Great Hall.
He tries to hide the disappointment that stems from his chest, and his heart beats with an inexplicable dull pain. All he can think about is the twist of your expression and he’s gathering his things rather quickly to follow after you, without even a bid goodbye to his clique.
Without any knowledge of what you two do behind closed doors and the complex history that you two share, one may view your relationship as practically nonexistent; you two are strangers, barely passing acquaintances. 
Doyoung does not approach you in the halls, in anywhere that necessarily has many witnesses. You smile at him, maybe even a wave depending on your mood, but no one questions it … as you wave at almost everyone who passes by you.
Classmates might see interaction during the one class you two share, if they pay attention close enough. However, you and Doyoung are much more to each other than passing acquaintances. Although he’s starting to see himself as another name on your list of individuals you sleep with, you are much more to him than you could ever know.
He’ll never forget the first time you two met. He was patrolling the halls for anyone lurking past curfew with his nose dug deep in his heavy book on magical creatures, when you walked right into him and caused the both of you to fall to the granite.
He was beyond ready to dock off points for whoever the rule breaker may be, but you took his breath away when you hovered above him and clasped your palm over his mouth before he can scold anyone. You looked a bit frazzled as your hair was all over the place and he noticed your minimal amount of clothing in the middle of a cold winter night.
He saw the signature Hufflepuff badge on your thin sweater and the sound of your voice completely threw him off his tracks.
“I’m so sorry.” You whisper at the stunned Prefect underneath you, whose body feels warm against your own. But your eyes remain frantically on the lookout for anyone else passing, despite the lack of light in the cobblestone hallway. You most definitely do not belong in this wing of the castle and knocking down a Prefect caused more of a problem in your escape route.
Quickly standing up, you lend your hand out for him to take. His long fingers accept your hold as he pulls himself up and dusts the dirt off his robe. His green emblem glows in the dim light and you’re internally screaming at the mess you just made for yourself. But you recognize his features: the sharpness in his eyes, the small curves of the corners of his lips, his neatly parted black hair.
“You’re in some deep---”
“---Kim Doyoung.” The boy freezes at the sound of his name and he blinks at you, curious as to where you know of him. Being a Prefect has its small perks of popularity, but he didn’t expect for it to go this far. “Y/N, we had brooms together.”
As he repeats your name and examines your pretty features, a light bulb goes off in his head. “The clumsy Hufflepuff that fell off her broom in the highest altitude?”
“If that’s how you remember me by.” You smile proudly, and he scoffs at how someone could possibly hold pride in something so silly. “It’s nice to see you around, you’re a Prefect! Wow! That’s incredible.”
“And you’re still as clumsy as you were a year ago. Falling all over the place.”
“Unfortunately, some things don’t change! But you certainly have.” Doyoung looks at you with hooded eyes and a cautious gaze, but you’re so outlandishly bold despite swaying with your hands behind your back. “Please, don’t take that the wrong way. I meant it as a compliment! I used to have a tiny crush on you, baseless, but you helped me catch my broomstick and I’ll never be able to forget that.”
Doyoung, unknowingly, lights up at your shameless confession and takes another good look at you. You're much more mature now, and if he stared into your alluring gaze any longer, he’d be completely mesmerized without the need of a love potion. “So you liked me over a meaningless chivalrous act?”
“I liked you because you were charming and yes, perhaps I am someone who finds attractiveness in men who are chivalrous. There’s nothing wrong with that.” You bat your sweet eyelashes at him so endearingly, and he’s a blushing mess all over the place.
Doyoung has had anonymous love letters passed on from his friends, but they were all Slytherins who yearned greedily to be associated with his status. So knowing that a Hufflepuff, with an innocent youthful approach to love, festered some form of infatuation with him does flatter him quite well. “I’ll let you go.”
You’re about to exhale an exasperated sigh of relief until Doyoung continues, “under one condition.”
“Okay, I’ll do anything.” Your gleaming eyes sparkle like stars paired with the night sky.
He rolls his eyes at you, “don’t be so quick to jump at conditions without hearing them first.” Doyoung groans and you passively brush off his comment.
“If it’s harmless, I’ll do it.”
And in the dead of the night, where only you two stand in the middle of an empty cobblestone hallway, Doyoung requests, “I want to see you again.”
Although that night marked the beginning of your friendship, public interactions were still scarce and this was mainly on the fault of Doyoung. The times you met were late nights past curfew where he was stationed at and he grew to enjoy your wondrous personality. This boy grew up in a Slytherin bubble his whole life, no one outside of his house ever dared approached him … at least, not with the warmest smile as yours.
You were everything he was not, but he liked it so much. You were a half that completed his whole, and there were growing pains he couldn’t confide in anyone else. Surprisingly, you knew his imperfections more than he did himself and yet, you still wanted to be around him to encourage him. Not to mention, you had a sudden growth in other parts of your body and formed into your features very beautifully.
He wasn’t the only one who noticed, as there were more male counterparts who smiled at you, talked about you, fawned over you. And he felt something heighten inside of him along with his existing romantic feelings, and that he began seeing you in a new light.
With you experiencing new things, like hand holding and being showered by love letters on Valentine’s Day, it was wrong of him to fester such envy over the ones who publicly adorned you. He was so blinded by his hot headed rage that he completely missed the fact that you never accepted anyone who confessed, maybe the hand holding, but everyone else was a complete rejection.
All this time, you had been waiting for him and when you two shared your first kiss together, you had an assumption that Doyoung was going to finally confess that he felt the same way. But he never did. You two did, however, further your relationship into something more intimate and taking each other’s virginities opened a whole pathway of possibilities --- none being one where you two end up officially together.
He was the first to sleep with someone else, that was his first of many mistakes that he was going to make in his relationship with you. It also became the drop of the needle for you to start seeing other people as well, to explore what Doyoung couldn’t offer, to rid yourself of the feelings you had for a boy that didn’t seem like he wanted anything more.
Chivalry was dead and Doyoung believed that the innocent youthful Hufflepuff love had disappeared from within you.
As his present day runs after you, you’re abruptly stopped by a Ravenclaw for a small chat. Damn you Hufflepuffs for being friendly and social. So, he rushes past the two of you and into the classroom to await for your arrival. The quick shade of green flashes by your side and you’re fuming incredibly at how Doyoung continues to play you like a harp.
When you slide into your assigned seat next to him, he goes off like a canon. Doyoung starts spewing backhanded excuses and endless shameless rambles about his behavior. “I told you. Don’t talk to me during class or I will jinx you. Won’t be able to talk with your tongue stuck to the roof of your mouth.”
“You’re not going to jinx me.” With a subtle flick of his wrist, your chair is pulled closer to his. “And if you were to do so, you wouldn’t do something so cynical.” Yelping at the abrupt usage of his magic, you’re irritably pressing your ink into your journal with a newfound annoyance.
“You’re right. I’d turn you into a duck, so at least, you’re still cute to look at.” The mindless scribbles on the paper make no sense in your head, as you’re primarily zoned in on the disrupted energy you have about your Slytherin companion. These ill feelings make you almost sick, wanting to shut out any bad replay of the moments before and forgetting about the attention you seek so much from Doyoung.
“For you to successfully cast a jinx on me, you must make eye contact first.” His finger lifts your chin and you’re eye to eye with his lustful dark stare. Doyoung licks his lips, a shine shimmers from his saliva, and he’s tempted to bring you into his chambers for an intimacy he’s been craving. “My, oh my. You’re looking very charmed today.” A grin curves up and taunts you, and you’re blinking away down at the table.
“Doyoung, we’re in class. Please, focus.” Your desperate whisper turns into a whine once his cold hand slyly smooths over your bare knee.
“Are you free later tonight?” Doyoung peers over at your side profile and your skin feels soft at his fingertips. He’s imagining your intoxicating scent mixing with his sheets, your light playful kisses along his neck, and gripping onto every naked part of you. For a whole minute, he’s forgotten that he’s in class with other no name individuals and a boring professor. He has tunnel vision whenever he’s with you.
“I have an arrangement.” The grip on your knee tightens at your quiet answer. An arrangement.
“The Gryffindor who had leafy greens in between his teeth?” Doyoung treads lightly, because you’re both well aware he’s made harsher insults than that. He retrieves his hand and picks up his pen as if he’s never touched you.
He sees your head shake out of the corner of his eye, you’re rolling your lips together sheepishly. There’s something odd about your stance and he’s growing a bit more curious…. A bit more spiteful at how closed off you are being. There’s something you’re hiding from him. “Then, who?”
“Is there something you’d like to discuss with the class, Mr. Kim? If not, I’d like for everyone to head over to the greenhouse.” As the class slightly snickers and the classroom empties, you and Doyoung are stopped by your professor.
Professor Sprout, wearing her worn out Dragon hide gloves and a thin lined smile, shoves a potted plant into Doyoung’s hands, “behave, you two. Your conversations are never very secret when spoken aloud.” She gives both of you a warning before proceeding out along with the rest of the class.
Doyoung scoffs at the absurd encounter and rolls his eyes. “Ah, you’re getting me in trouble with you now.”
“I’m sorry, Doyoung. It’s better that you don’t know.” You say this every time, when will you realize that keeping your hookups a secret only causes him more agony? He catches your wrist as you both exit the corridors, he barely ever has you alone now. And to say the least, he fucking misses you.
“Spare me some of your time after class.” He’s disgusted by himself, knowing that his eyes are begging for you to say yes. Him, a highly admired Slytherin, has settled for scraps and if anyone knew, they’d never let him live.
Your hand gently clasps over his and when you look up with your starry eyes, something inside him feels at peace. “Did you miss me?” He gulps at your question and blinks at you like a deer in headlights. If said by anyone else, he would not hesitate to snap his fingers into a malicious spell. But you ask the million dollar question so sweetly, there’s no taunt… there’s no mockery in your tone. It’s full of genuine curiosity.
So, he answers you with part of his heart that you know too well. “Unfortunately.” His body falls slightly in defeat, and suddenly the potted plant is alive in his hands. It’s wailing a dangerous and annoying loud cry, completely ruining the moment.
Doyoung quizzically ponders the monstrous green plant and its magical capabilities puzzle him, possibly reminding him to pay more attention to the actual curriculum than on your unbuttoned shirt.
Moreover, your giggle surprisingly calms him in this stressful situation and you lightly pat his hand that’s still gripping your wrist. “I’m all yours after class.” 
Taking the wretched plant, you hurry off toward the greenhouse to find someone to diffuse the crying creature. Doyoung laughs in disbelief at your comical animated figure running around with a pot over your head and shouting for any student to help you. So you’re not paying attention in class either?
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Doyoung takes you to your favorite place, despite the rule that you’re not allowed access to it. The Prefect Bathroom remains spotlessly clean and fresh paired with an immediate scent of rosewater and wild honeysuckle. The white polished marble gleams prettily under the twinkling diamond chandeliers and you’re twirling enthusiastically in the center of the large undressing area.
He observes and smiles widely to himself at the sight of your happiness and cute giggles. It’s always a risk to have you use their bathroom, but he is always abusing his privilege to seek your enjoyment that he truly doesn’t care about anything else. Your morality has beaten him enough and he’s heard plenty about his wrongdoings, yet here you are… sweetly dancing in the one place that’s absolutely wrong. Perhaps, you two have rubbed off a little too much on one another.
“I can never get sick of this place.” As you plead to Doyoung to cast a bubble bath, you’re already stripping out of your skirt. He shields his eyes to give you some privacy and recites the charm to run hot dazzling water in the ginormous pool. A nice soothing bath is exactly what you two need after a stressful day playing in the dirt.
“This is your favorite place.” says Doyoung with a matter of fact edge to this tone.
“It’s my favorite place because I only get to come here with you.” You jump on his back and he hoists you up by your thighs. His heart skips a happy tune. “I refuse for you to tell me the password, even if you do wish for me to enjoy the simple pleasures of a bubble bath.”
“You and your right and wrongs.” With eager hands, you’re loosening his tie from around his neck. “You stripped so fast that you’re going to get a cold.”
“It’s going to get steamy really soon. Plus, I know you like me best without any clothes on.” Your hot breath tickles the shell of his ear and a blush scatters across Doyoung’s cheek. Button after button, his open shirt exposes his toned build. He sets you on the edge of the elevated step before the bath.
Doyoung smirks at your nakedness and your hot lustful expression. Leaning in until he’s practically breathing against your lips, he stares straight into your eyes. “My Puff knows me best.” And dives into you with all his soul. Fruitful drags of his lips along yours, his long tongue enters your mouth. His large hand carefully caresses your cheek to pull you further into the kiss, noses pressing into skin and with a desire to never part.
His heart swells lovingly, kissing you feels like the best thing in the world. There are no tricks, no spells, no recited charms, but you are more than magical. The same surge of energy runs through his veins, but unlike his impressive ability as a notable wizard, he can’t control it. You make him lose control. As meticulous and cautious as he is, you’re the first thing he doesn’t think through.
Your needy hands push off his dress shirt and he hurriedly unbuckles his belt. When you break the kiss, he automatically pouts and pulls you back in for one more lingering peck. “Are you going to scrub my back for me?” You smile, dragging him closer to the overflowing bathtub.
Large puffs of white bubbles spill from the rims and disappear with your every step. It reminds you of sea foam that washes upon the shore, with a floral fragrant that fills your lungs. “That’s quite an intimate gesture, but yes.”
After removing all his garments, he joins you in the large pool of glossy bubbles and the clouds of steam that rises from the water suffocates him warmly. He sits with his back against the wall and eyes unwavering on your alluring expression. 
The bubbles do a great job at covering your breasts, but his sneaky hands snake under the water to grip them. Doyoung grabs a full tit and thumbs over your erect nipple, all while he holds the most sensual gaze with you. Slowly, you naturally end up in his hold and your wet back relaxes against his chest.
The beating of his heart is too loud and surely, you can feel the way it jumps out of his chest. Doyoung attaches his lips on your skin and as you’re melting at his harsh suckling. However, you perk up and snap out of your dazed arousal at the realization of his purposeful licks. “You’re trying to mark me?”
His hand continues to rub and twist your aching nipples. The sensation stimulating the growth of pleasure to sprout below and your mind to wander. 
“Possibly.”
A lovers’ mark is the ultimate testament of mutual love. Engraving the skin with your beloved’s Patronus, wherever the giver chooses to mark. Love emblems are meant to be something sacred to the couple, a way to make someone completely untouchable to everyone else. Not only does the symbol glow with an iridescent shine whenever love is felt, it also numbs any romantic feelings for all others besides the partner.
Besides the use of possessiveness, it’s a beautiful way to discover one true love since the engraving of their Patronus shows up on the skin under the conditions that both individuals must be madly in love with one another. And if it doesn’t end up forming, the receiver is left with a bright, sparkling star hue in its place before fading away completely. If it does appear, it fades when both fall out of love.
“Doyoung--” His name falls from your lips as a moan and he’s running down to explore the beauty between your legs. “--can’t do that unless you actually want to commit to me.”
“I am committed to you.” The more your neck cranes off to the side and exposed to him, the more he wishes to etch the symbol of his love for everyone to see. A hand is hooked under your thigh to keep your legs spread open and you’re gasping at the slight pressure from the water.
“Romantically committed to me.” You remind him, but your train of thought is cut fairly short as Doyoung begins rubbing circles on your needy clit.
“You’re afraid of it showing up?” He’s lathering your breasts with bubbles and dragging his long finger along your slit. His greediness overtakes him and with wandering hands, he’s gripping every part of you that they can reach. Doyoung’s guilty pleasure is always going to any form of physical affection from you specifically. When he finally gets ahold of you, it’s hard for him to let go.
Your warm skin is delicate and smooth beneath the very tips of his fingers and every exploration of your terrain makes him feel inexplicable explosions of fondness. Perhaps, you’ve captivated him and although he believed it would take something as extreme as the Amortentia to have him falling for someone, you did it as easily as being yourself. His better half.
So, he’s impressed by your genuineness and how he’s willing to give up parts of his reputation to unapologetically be himself around you. No one else matters, nothing else matters, but why must it be so difficult to tell you that?
“I’m afraid of it not showing up.” You’re more than convinced that Doyoung has confused his strong sense of lust with love and there would be no possible way his Patronus would appear. It’s better to save the embarrassment for the both of you.
Spinning in his arms, the water twirls to the curves of your body and he’s admiring parts that expose above the surface. He’s matched with your beauty before him, resemblance to the stained glass window that situates above the large bathroom.
However, the doubt in your statement finally reaches his ears and he’s grabbing your ass as you settle over his thighs again. His furrowed eyebrows bring together a rather upset expression --- lip pout and all.
“Why wouldn’t it show up?” Doyoung puzzles, bringing your arms to wrap around his neck. Leaning into him, your pruney fingers trace his smooth chin and he notices your quick flicker between his eyes and his lips.
While your gentle kiss reassures him of your subtle endearment, your next words do the opposite. “You tell me.” All you do is push him away with your vague doubtfulness, like you’re constantly testing him and using his poor guessing skills to your own advantage. He can pull you close after any altercation he wants, but you push him away in any emotionally romantic sense.
“You’re rather mischievous and mysterious today,” Doyoung squeezes your ass and smacks it lightly, causing ripples in the water. “I liked it better when you told me everything you felt.”
Suddenly, his fingers poke at your entrance and his other hand drops in between your legs again. Your mouth opens in shock when his long fingers enter slowly and he enjoys the pleasurable contour of your reactions. “Like this, for example.” The pad of his fingers working rapid flicks against your sensitive bud. “How does this feel?” His whisper dances across your shoulder, landing a kiss at the end of his question.
Your moans echo in the lavish bathroom, bouncing off the marble walls and encouraging Doyoung to keep a steady pace. There’s no worry about how loud you may be, Doyoung charms every room before every lustful encounter. This allows you to let go, let free, let him know how he makes you feel.
He curves his fingers into you, pumping and dragging into your tightness until you’re practically screaming. He only has one thought, as his eyes trail down your intoxicated needy figure, how beautiful you are as a moaning mess under his control. Your head is thrown back, eyes are squeezed shut and opening them to see nothing but tiny yellow starlight.
Dainty kisses line your exposed neck line and his ego swells with so much pride. Doyoung has mastered every flick of his wrist to have you under his trance, spewing nonsensical words and forgetting anyone else that exists. He gives your erect nipples harsh licks and with a faint drag of teeth, the sensation pushes you to your end.
Sporadic pleasurable convulsions cause your legs to close around Doyoung’s hands, but the strength of his knee keeps them apart. “Doyoung… I’m going to free fall.”
Leave it up to you to beautifully announce your climax. He snickers, applying more pressure on your clit and a rubbing motion against your walls. “I’ll catch you.”
Moon crescents embed into his skin as you’re holding onto him with your whole life. As your scream hits every octave, the massive collection of bubbles that cover the surface of the bath fly and splatter every corner of the pristine room. 
White and wet bubbles drip down from the walls, falling from the diamond chandeliers, and coating every steamy mirror. Doyoung’s eyes light up from the chaos, making sure you’re riding out your high for as long as he can provide.
Your body trembles with euphoria, falling forward into Doyoung’s chest and squeezing around his lazily pumping fingers. For a brief second, your mind is wiped and nothing in the world feels better than being in this perfect moment with the one person who’s Patronus you hoped would etch your skin.
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If one possesses feelings that are practically unbearable to contain, one should confess… right? For all your life, you’ve lived by this statement. Friends do not hear the end of it and most surely, one should follow their own advice… right?
So why do you yearn for Doyoung in your gaze as he stands across the Great Hall as if he doesn’t know of your existence? As if he wasn’t kissing you in the Prefect bathroom a few days prior?
It’s not an understatement to say that you catch the attention of almost every person in the room, but the one head that refuses to turn your way… the one who’s looks you wish to steal… is the one person who looks right through you.
Feelings have become a nuisance ever since the first time you confessed to him and it was worse than landing on cobblestone after falling off your broom. The reason why you’ve buried them deeper than any chamber is that you’re positive that the prized Slytherin would rather be with another, preferably one from his own house.
While you try to remain optimistic and playful for the time being, you’re simply replaceable to him. He can barely care to acknowledge you in public when Gryffindors boast about you in their arms like winning a trophy. You’ve kept good relations with every Ravenclaw you’ve slept with. You’ve kindly rejected every romantic gesture another Hufflepuff has offered.
But if there is one thing you’ve learned about him is that he’s lived in his Slytherin circle for as long as he lives. And it will stay that way. You’re his sweet Hufflepuff that he’ll push away at no cost, then pull you back in secrecy.
Now if one feels as if they’re wasting their time, one should leave… right? Wrong. Kim Doyoung has skewed with your morality… and your feelings remain loyal to him since the day he confessed to see you again.
“Lemon-drop, I’ve been looking all over for you.” An arm slings around your shoulders and the notable red and gold tie is the first thing you see. Jung Jaehyun, Captain of the Gryffindor Quidditch team, flashes his deep dimples at you. “Walk with me.”
He extends his palm out for you to take and your friends painfully elbow your sides to wake you from your hesitation. Taking his hand, you get up from the dining table and follow him out the Great Hall.
Doyoung sees the scene unfold before him and rolls his eyes at how Jaehyun’s dimples are all it takes to have you wandering off with him. Despite every wicked intent to follow you two, he heads out in the direction of the dormitories to fume in his room.
“It’s such a nice and sunny day today.” Jaehyun runs a hand through his luscious brown locks. You both exit into the front courtyard as other students are scattered on the lawns mingling with one another. When you peer up at the sky, the sun is barely seen past the layers of clouds.
“Jaehyun, is there something you needed to speak with me about?” His laughter roars, full of hefty song and amusement.
“Listen, lemon-drop. I like you and I have a feeling you feel the same way. I want to mark you if you’d let me.” Jaehyun smirks and just as he brings your hand up for a kiss, you gently let go. “Am I coming off too strong? We don’t have to do it today, I just wanted to see if it would show.”
“Jaehyun, you’re going to find an extravagant person one day. A person who is going to know all your favorite castle balconies to swing from and how you like to be kissed on the nose.” His ears grow a bright red and for once, his gaze drops to the ground. “I am, unfortunately, not that person for you so I must kindly reject your confession.”
As you turn on your toes, Jaehyun lightly holds your wrist to stop you. “But, you know all those things about me. Is there anything I can do to prove that we belong together?”
“I know them because I care enough to remember things you tell me, not because I loved you enough to observe these things about you. I give you my word that there is nothing you can do to prove me otherwise.” The corners of his lips dip downward and you’re running to the one person that will erase this sad rejection from your memory.
When you’re scanning the Great Hall for any sign of him, he’s not there and it leads you to his only hiding place. Doyoung loves to shut himself out from the rest of the school whenever he gets the chance. However, a lost Hufflepuff wandering outside the entrance of the Slytherin dormitories is rather an odd sight to see and you haven’t had the chance to form many connections from this house.
The sparse amount of Slytherins you know aren’t going to be passing by, unless with some stroke of luck, someone will be kind enough to open the door for you. Every person passes by you with questionable stares until a silver haired boy blinks at you with wide eyes.
“Who is it that you’re trying to see?” He asks abrasively, but softens his tone when he realizes that you mean no harm.
You bid him a small grin, “your Prefect.”
“And what for?”
“There is an urgent matter that involves him and he’s practically unreachable when he’s hiding away in his private room.” The boy narrows his eyes at you, but beckons you to follow him down to the Slytherin dungeon.
Excitedly, you hurry behind him and whisper over his shoulder, “what’s your name?”
“Nakamoto Yuta. No need to tell me yours, I’ll doubt he’d want me to know.” He spits and then, mutters the enchanted password to reveal the large green common room. “Come this way.” He leads up the boys’ dorms and walks briskly. Although you never mentioned a name, Yuta seems to already know who you’re here to see and it makes you wonder how he must know.
“Open up.” Yuta stops and knocks at the wooden door, Kim Doyoung written in a fancy penmanship on the center. “You have a guest.” He looks your way before rolling his eyes at Doyoung’s irritated tone through the other side.
“Tell them to leave.”
“He wants you to leave.” Yuta repeats, mostly to satisfy Doyoung’s nag.
“That’s fine. Thank you for bring---” The door swings open abruptly and Yuta almost loses his balance. Doyoung frantically turns his head side to side to comprehend what he is seeing. His ears felt deceived, hearing your voice through the door, he had to make sure it wasn’t you.
But you stand before him and Yuta. Here you are approaching him whenever he least expects it. “What are you doing here?”
“I came by to see you. I’ve been here plenty of times.”
“What are you doing bringing her in?” scolds Doyoung and the other boy shrugs carelessly.
“What was I supposed to do? Let her bat puppy eyes at several other Slytherins and have her telling everyone who passes her that she came here to see our Prefect? It was also getting cold out.” Yuta mumbles, but finds great entertainment at seeing how frazzled Doyoung has gotten by your presence.
“It was a bit chilly.” You admit and Doyoung groans, pulling you into his room and shutting the door on Yuta. “Thank you, Yuta.” You whisper through the crack between the door frame.
“It’s too risky for you to be searching for me around other Slytherins.” Doyoung paces the room and you notice his tie is loose and shirt is unbuttoned around his neck. “Why are you here?”
“A Gryffindor blew me off. I thought I’d come and see you with all the free time I can get.” Taking a seat at the end of his neatly made bed, your legs swing adorably and Doyoung almost doesn’t hear you.
“Jaehyun? Does he think he’s too good for you or something? That cocky dimple Gryffindor, with the draw of my wand---” Doyoung whips out his intricately customized Dragon Heartstring, and you’re on your feet to calm his temper down.
“Will you put that thing away? I’m here for you.” Your giggle warms his tight chest and puts out the fueling flame for anyone who dares to hurt you in any way. “It’s not a big deal and it’s not the first time it has happened.”
Doyoung uncomfortably clears his throat and withdraws his wand. Buttoning up his shirt, he fixes his tie back in place. To say the least, your words erupted his festering jealousy and this may have been a small tipping point.
Before you had entered, he was so frustrated with himself and you. You can just walk away with another man without a second thought, in front of him too. He remembered the soft feeling of your body and how he’s not the only one who’s needy hands ran their course over you. That may be the one pain he can never get rid of.
“I never understood why you give other men the time of your day when they just brush you off undeservingly.” He stings and you’re slightly surprised at his sudden attack. When you respond in silence, he continues.“I thought Hufflepuffs are to be loyal, so why do you sleep with other men?”
Crossing your arms, your weight is barred on your left leg and there is a shift in your overall mood. With an eyebrow raised, you sass him back, “People say Slytherins are ambitious, so why didn’t you chase after me?”
Doyoung swallows hard and blinks at you speechless. A clammy hand runs through his black strands as he tries to find any possible explanation without confessing his feelings. If he had a plan to confess, it would never be in the middle of an inquisition with you.
“I guess you didn’t think before acting on your desires.” And how he hated how correct that statement is. He doesn’t ever think whenever he’s around you. All his actions are conducted with his emotions and the feelings that overtake him.
Doyoung scoffs, rolling his eyes at your rash comment. “Aren’t you supposed to have the strongest morality among all the houses?”
“Sleeping with multiple men isn’t morally wrong. There’s nothing wrong with it…” The slight hurt from his question is difficult to ignore, but you must remember one thing if you want to protect your heart on your sleeve. This is nothing serious to be bickering over. You two aren’t anything serious, so why feel the need to squabble over nonsense? “... it would only be wrong if someone liked me and wished to commit to me.”
Your eyes meet and Doyoung blinks at you with wide eyes. His Adam’s Apple bobs as he gulps again, completely whiplashed at how the conversation has turned. “And if that’s the case and you like me, would that make you jealous, Doyoung? That’s why you’re trying to poorly attack my character?” He’s never heard such a strong taunt in your tone and he’s baffled by it, slightly aroused, but shocked.
“I don’t like you.” His voice is small and he pouts his lips at you. Doyoung crosses his arms and perhaps, his sad expression reveals a little more than it should have. Your heart softens at his ridiculously cute response, had you expected something much more angry and vindictive.
“Then this conversation is over, right? I’ll be on my way now. I have herbology.”
“We have the same class.” He grumbles, grabbing his robe from his desk chair.
You open the door to make your exit, “but since you don’t want to be seen with a Hufflepuff, I’ll go ahead first.” When you stumble out into the hallway, a recognizable face brightens at your appearance.
“Haechan! Hello, I haven’t seen you in a while.” You’re cheering and Doyoung chews the inside of his cheek. His pride is left at the door and along with all the things that hold him back from you, he doesn’t want to push you away anymore.
“My favorite Hufflepuff, are you just leaving?” Haechan walks up to open his arms, wishing to embrace you in the longest hug. However, Doyoung quickly takes you by your hand and rushes past him.
“She came to walk with me to class. Bye Haechan.” And Haechan is left standing in the middle of the hallway, confused and watching your backs as you’re both briskly walking out the common room.
Doyoung looks back at you, “you think I’m going to let you walk out of my room and have another Slytherin walk you to class? Don’t be so foolish.”
But you are foolish. Your heart beats foolishly and loudly for Kim Doyoung. And may you be foolish enough to wonder if his heart does the same for you.
And it does. Foolishly. Loudly. Lovingly.
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You both wonder if this vicious cycle will ever meet its end. Doyoung pushes you away by ignoring your existing relationship, but pulls you back into his embrace as if it never happened. You push him away by running off with other men, but come back to him as if he’s the one person you’re loyal to.
But on this particular night, after mass circulation of rumors reaches the ears of the lovesick Slytherin, Doyoung is pulling you away from your huddled group of friends in the middle of the long corridor hallways. Without any greeting, any spoken words, he’s dragging you to his room right in front of everyone to see. His hand around yours like it was two days prior, but with an expression so grave on his sullen face.
The silence between you two brings no comfort, but you don’t dare say the first words. Doyoung, finally, approached you first in public and it is possibly for a greater reason. Perhaps you’ve done something horribly wrong, and the moment you two step into his room that you’ll hear a mouthful.
However when he closes the door to his room, your hand immediately drops from his embrace and he turns to face you. There is a darkness in his eyes, one that light cannot touch, and his lips are tight in a line.
There is an eerie silence that fills the dark room and the murky windows paint the area an ominous green. Doyoung focuses on your confused, yet adorable expression. “Why did you lie to me?”
The door catches your slight stumble and you’re blinking cluelessly at him. “About what?”
“Jaehyun.” He breathes the name in spite and aggressively loosens his tie. “He didn’t blow you off. You rejected him and he’s telling everyone it's because you’re in love with someone else.”
You scorn at such a ridiculous rumor and for the fact that it’s even made its way around to Doyoung. Another realization hits you. All it took for him to approach you in public is a meaningless rumor.
So in response, you laugh and it mocks him further. “This is not a laughing matter, y/n.”
“I’m sorry, but why are you so upset at that? Fine. I did lie to you, but I never told Jaehyun I was in love with anyone else.”
“Are you in love with someone else?” Doyoung says with balled fists at his side. There is a mixture of anger and sadness running through his veins and he’s so sick of feeling this way.
Your hesitation speaks for you, “It’s better that you don’t know.”
“You say this every time and it does nothing to ease my conscience.” Doyoung throws his hands in the air and stares at you with sharp eyes. “Is that why you were afraid that my emblem wouldn’t show up? Because your heart belongs to another. Yeah, I heard Jaehyun wanted to mark you too.”
Men and their constant want to prove something to themselves with their marks. Everyone has a twisted reality of markings now. There have been many others who have tried to mark you, feeling as if lust would be enough to suffice its appearance. As one's Patronus is special to their own protection, a beloved’s Patronus mark holds the same value.
You’re quite at a loss for words, “I was afraid that it wouldn’t show up, not because of myself, but because of you.”
Doyoung points at himself in disbelief. Him? He loves you more than anyone he’s ever encountered, even if you didn’t know it. “I wouldn’t have almost tried it if I wasn’t sure of myself.”
“You don’t love me, Doyoung. I don’t even know if I can even say you romantically like me.” Those words hurt the both of you and it lingers in the room for longer than you’d like.
“Do you think I fuck you meaninglessly like all those other losers you sleep with?” Doyoung steps forward, pulling you into his chest and admiring everything he’s fallen in love with. A pain spreads across his heart as he thinks of you with another person, of someone else kissing you, of someone else making you happy.
“You really don’t feel it in the way I kiss you?” He asks once more and your own stare drops to his shoulder, a bit ashamed to maintain eye contact with such pained eyes.
“And if I did? How would you explain that? That you are actually in love with me?” Your questions pelt him like rocks. As he pushes you on his bed, you pull him down with his tie.
Doyoung drinks you up like fresh water, a crisp and refreshing love that encourages him to reach heights. His hand cups your face and his feather touches reminds you of his gentleness. Your lips taste like sweet honey, dripping and coating him with a sticky sugar.
He’s happier with you and he’s the happiest kissing you. Perhaps, it’s hard for him to express with words, but he’d always hope his actions speak louder. So, his lips press against yours with a whirl of passion and every good feeling that grows in his chest.
The collar of his shirt is wrinkled in your fist and you’re holding him as if you’re afraid of him letting go. Doyoung runs a hand down your torso and lifts the end of your skirt up. A warm hand pushes your legs apart and a finger presses your clit through your cotton panties.
Your mouth opens into a moan and he takes this opportunity to shove his long tongue inside, lapping with your own. As a wet spot forms on your panties, he pulls them to the side and gathers the slick to gently rub your erect clit. His name is lost and muffled in the kiss, but you tap at his chest.
When he breaks away and halts all movement, he looks down over you with a fire burning in his dark orbs. And a confession falls from his swollen lips, “may I mark you?”
“And if it doesn’t show up?” Though, you’re wishing to the most powerful wizards that it does or else your heart would shatter into a million pieces beyond repair.
He bites his lip and every possible outcome scatters his thoughts. It’s too hard to concentrate, so he doesn’t at all. He focuses on your pretty lips and the way you look at him like he’s the only person that matters. “Then, we’ll deal with the consequences later.”
With your quick nod, Doyoung attaches his lips to your neck and harshly sucks at your skin. For the most part, it’s a pleasurable feeling and sends a shiver down your spine. So, he licks and nibbles until he can barely breathe. Your faint scent of patchouli and ginger intoxicates him, wraps him up in a fuzzy coziness that is unmatched.
Your hands unbutton his shirt and a final gentle bite seals his mark. If the love is reciprocated, the emblem would take a moment to form. Doyoung is rather hopeful and excited, as he’s never seen his Patronus before. “You look beautiful.”
“And you look dazed as if someone charmed you.” You giggle and kiss his red lips.
“You’re quite the powerful one, my Puff.” He smiles against your jaw before proceeding to your mess down below. He gives your aching clit a few licks, which cause your body to twist and turn at the sensitive sensation.
“Please, I haven’t felt you in so long.” Whining and tugging at his hair, Doyoung leaves a lasting kiss and gets up to remove his pants.
“Did you miss me?” Doyoung raises a suggestive eyebrow and cocks his head to the side in mockery, a smirk growing on his face.
You reply with a silly response that only he knows and causes him to chuckle, “unfortunately.” And he’s finding every way not to confess his endearments for you.
His dick stands tall and proud against his abdomen, giving it a few jerks as he watches you strip out of your own clothes. You turn around and sit on your knees, with a slight tilt forward and the arch in your back to accentuate your ass.
Doyoung rolls on the protection as quickly as he can. His hands lightly smack your cheeks and slowly enters your dripping hole. His hands grip your hips as he slides deeper into you, both being moaning messes at the delicious feeling.
“Have you always been this big?” You look back at him and to which he devilishly smiles at you.
“You know just the way to fuel my ego,” when his length is fully buried inside of your tight walls, he wraps an arm around your waist and a hand on your tit. “After all the times you’ve been fucked, your pussy is still as tight as ever.”
Doyoung slams hard into you, showing no mercy and causing you to jolt up. He takes every frustration, every feeling of anger, every ounce of jealousy into his thrusts. “But you take me so well, darling. I’ve never seen someone as pretty as you.”
His compliments cause your heart to soar, despite the soreness you’re beginning to feel in your pussy. He’s relentless, bottoming out until his tip is practically in your guts. “Just like that, baby. You’re the only one who fucks me this good.”
He blushes under the low light and leans forward to kiss the top of your head. “My Puff, you’re so sweet to me.” The loud squelch of your tight pussy gripping his dick fills the hot room, “and so wet.”
You’re shamelessly dripping on his green velvet blanket and Doyoung picks up his speed. Your knees give out as you fall face forward into the mattress, hands in fists from the incredible pleasure of every hit. Your ass now in his full view and every tingle of magic lights up in his veins.
Your throat is raw from screaming and moaning, Doyoung holds your hips steady to thrust into a new angle. Automatically, your body twitches as his tip hits your special spot and he’s well aware that you’re close to releasing.
And with his fast thrusts, he asks you an intimate question that is fueled by envy and rage. “If I fuck you the best, then why do you sleep with other men?”
There are no thoughts in your mind to even give him a white lie, to mask the truth of your actions. He’s fucking you into an oblivion that it’s hard to even focus on anything besides pleasure. The books on his shelf begin to tremble as you’re crying out, “I- I don’t know! Fuck, please… ! I’m tipping over.”
“Answer the question or I will stop.” He’s absolutely cynical and you have every reason to believe his threat. Doyoung lifts your limp body upright, against his torso and an arm secured around your middle as before. His hand snakes to your clit, rubbing feathering circles over the neglected bud.
Nonetheless, his single action paired with his tip grazing harshly against the particular spot causes your legs to tremble. “Do you want me to stop?” His threat rings in your ears when you still left him without an answer.
You’re so close, you’re starting to see white. So, you say what your heart tells you and the truth falls from your lips in a loud confession. “Because I wanted you to love me instead! I fucked them to forget about my love for you… fuck, I’m--”
“I’ve got you. Let go of yourself, baby.” Doyoung slows his hips when your walls squeeze around him sporadically. Every book flies out and hits the opposite wall, clattering the floor with heavy academia. However, he repeats your proclamation endlessly in his mind and his heart surges with the most intense romantic desires.
“I do love you, y/n.” He whispers, cumming into his rubber and simply holding you tightly. He lets go of every prideful arrogance in his body, tossing the lame reputation he always tried to hold onto. He didn’t need that if it meant losing you. Doyoung chuckles to himself for being an obvious cliché, announcing one’s love in the midst of a lustful act. He pulls out and gently tucks you into the covers.
Breathless, you’re finally realizing his confession. “You do? Are you sure?” Any subtle movements has your aching lower half in pain, so you settle with resting on his plush pillows and await for him to join you in bed.
All this time, from beginning to now, you’ve been oblivious to his yearning looks across the Great Hall. The intensity of his kisses had been lost upon you completely as you had convinced yourself that he was incompatibly of loving you back. Even now, as you lay in slight doubt, you’re wondering how you managed to have everything fly over your head. 
When he discards his used protection and with a quick flick of his wrist, every book finds its original place on the shelf again, he enters the warm covers. Your arms wrap around his neck and you’re admiring each other’s expressions in the low light. He spots the notable twinkle in your eyes and his thumb lightly rubs your cheek.
“If the symbol of my Patronus doesn’t show, I promise to love you harder until it does.” Doyoung leaves the softest, most loving kiss on your lips. He’s more than thankful for the lack of light as he’s bashfully red all over his cheeks.
“Usually, people just give up.” Your voice is harsh, possibly from the deafening screaming of pleasure prior.
Doyoung shakes his head. He’s made too many mistakes in this relationship with you. Sleeping with another. Ignoring your existence. Being too prideful to be seen with another house. All these incidents have made him feel nothing but ugliness and distraught, and pushed you away further than how much he is able to pull you back.
He loves you. He’s in love with you. He’s fallen for you recklessly as you did off your broom the first encounter. You’re everything he’s never been and never will be, yet you don’t care. You’re by his side, despite his spitefulness and you never miss a beat. That innocent youth approach to love, oh how he wishes it never faded, and though he thought it did, it didn’t. You remain true to your character when he fights with himself internally.
“That would be a mistake and I can’t afford to keep making them.” A glossy sheen over Doyoung’s regretful eyes, but you pull him closer and you refuse to let his eyes wander.
A tired harmless sigh escapes your lips and a dreamy haze overcomes you. Besides the reminder of needing to use the bathroom flashing in your mind, there is nothing else you want to dissect. Feelings are too complex to discuss at the moment and the resolve has already passed.
Regardless of the marks appearing, you’re content with the night and for the rest of your days. Kim Doyoung, the Slytherin boy of your dreams, loves you back and the power of that alone beats any spell in those dusty old textbooks.
“Why can’t we lay here forever?” Your heavy eyelids fall slowly and your voice grows small.
Doyoung kisses your shoulder, then your neck. “That’s impossible. I can’t give you forever.” He mumbles against your skin, sending vibrations across your throat.
“You are my forever.” Doyoung halts and is left speechless as a white glowing entity catches his eye. And the absolute perfect outline of his Patronus sits underneath your jaw, brightly shining with iridescent brilliance --- he makes out the outline: a White Swan, representing his love for you. Doyoung smiles to himself and hopes for it to never fade. Perhaps, he can give you forever.
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some fun critical questions to think about hehe -
why do you think y/n lied to doyoung about jaehyun confessing? why do you think yuta helped y/n enter the Slytherin dormitories? what is the meaning behind the White Swan Patronus? Why do you think y/n continued to like doyoung after all this time?
there are no right or wrong answers, just something fun to have you thinking a little more about the fic haha if you want, you can send me an ask about it :) but overall, no pressure and thank you for reading! please leave me some feedback if you can! happy new year!
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#259
“Seth? Right? C’mon in. Your brother told you who I am? Good. Want a beer?... Here you go. Let’s go out to the back deck. The sun went down, and the cool evening air is starting to kick in. Have a seat…. Ok. Seth, do you know why you are here? Let me be blunt. Your brother David owes me a lot of money. A lot. He’s been doing jobs for me that I need someone I can trust to do. But that’s barely covering the interest. I told him he needs to start working down the principal. So, he offered me… you….
“That’s right he sold you to me. You are going to whore off his debt…. Shut the fuck up. The deal is set. Have some more beer; it will help you to deal with what I need to go over with you….
“Your brother probably told you that I am a powerful man. Hopefully he didn’t tell you what I did. I will share with you one part of my business that you will be a part of. I have several whore agencies across several states. They ain’t like the whorehouses in the movies. The girls never see money; they show up at a set time and do whatever the man wants. They do not say no. They get to live in city, and they show their clients the best the city has to offer. They have everything paid for and get a nice credit card too.
“A few years ago—hell it’s more like ten or so, —I was convinced to do the same but on the fag side. Now, I knew nothing about fag sex, and it disgusted me. Once I got over the visuals, the business was just like the girls. The difference I found out was that I had to have two sets of whores—fag boys like yourself, and men old enough to be your father.
“It was Frankie, one of my goons, who told me that there is a lot money to be made by men taking the dominant role. I didn’t believe it. So, he arranged for me to watch him from a distance him work over this faggot. He didn’t tell me how much he was earning. When I saw this fag hand over three hundred bucks, I knew I needed to get into this. I mean my guy did barely anything other than smack the fag around, call him names, and sit on the faggot’s face at the end. That fag ate that fat ass while pounding its pud. Frankie even went over to the fag’s wallet and took an additional hundred out of it. And wouldn’t you know, that fag boy was loving life.
“Needless to say, that was how I got into the fag whoring business. I had Frankie lead it; he even got somewhat in shape, and now he’s my most popular whore men. Wait a minute, you know him. He fucked you behind a dumpster in the alley behind that fag bar a couple weeks ago. When I saw you at David’s birthday partner at my tavern and he told me that you were his sperm burping brother, I sent Frankie to find out more about you. I know that you can take a good pounding, face slaps, rough housing. Frankie also told me that you cleaned off his cock after we was done and that you drank his piss. You even begged him for more as he walked away from you, naked covered in piss behind the dumpster. That’s all I needed to hear.
“After meeting with your brother, all I had to do was press the massive debt. I knew how self-serving he was. He sold you out so fucking fast. And now I own you. Now strip faggot….
“You do realize who I am? No one ever disobeys one of my direct commands. Now think about your next move real carefully. STRIP YOU FUCKING FAGGOT. Take your time standing up. That drug I put in your beer will make you kinda dizzy if you stand too fast. Yeah, I didn’t want you to run back to your car. Kid, when you came in that door, you were mine. That’s it. Accept your fate. Good boy.
“Yeah, after Frankie roughed up that fag, I was curious. He arranged for me to use one of his regulars who was blindfolded. It was so much fun to kick and punch that faggot only to have him crawl to me, begging for more. With each time, I got more wicked, and they wanted more. I had a few fags over the years locked up and had the best of all worlds. My wife provides me with companionship. My girlfriend offers sensual making love and snuggling. And my faggot takes all my rage filled abuse.
“Underwear needs to go too. Let’s see what you have. Not bad. Looks like you are excited about being naked in front of me. That’s a lot of pre-cum. Decent sized balls. I’d say you are about six inches long. The shaft is a bit thin, but the head is good size. Your foreskin is not too long. That’s good. If there’s going to be one sweaty stinky dick around here, it will be mine. If yours becomes a problem, we’ll get you circumcised.
“What? Faggot, you are nothing more to me than my pickup. If I want to modify you out, I sure as hell am going to. I modify all my property. Tattoos, piercing, permanent hair removal, castration, branding, and so on. But actually, I am a bit cautious. I made the mistake of castrating a fag and regretted it afterwards. He just didn’t seem right to me. The cutter I went to tried to put in fake balls, but it still didn’t seem right. I ended up replacing that fag with another.
“I am looking for my perfect fag. I’m planning on letting my girlfriend go, but sometimes I need that close touch. Not going to do that with my wife. Every day now I realize that I want to be with faggots over women. Faggots are so much easier to mold into what I want. And every now and then I might snuggle with one.
“I like what I see. I want to see your cumload. Jerk off for me. I’ll give you a few minutes to do so. When you do, shoot in your spare hand. I want to see the quantity. I’m going to get your collar; it’s probably done charging. I’m also going to take your car keys. You ain’t going anywhere. Continue jacking….
“….Did you cum? You did! Good fag. When was the last time you came? Yesterday morning? Well that’s a good load. Here, lock this collar around your neck. Ok, so here’s the deal. You can jack off as often as you like, whenever you like as long as I am not using you. If I catch you jacking off, don’t stop. If you are watching porn, continue. But know this, no matter if you haven’t cum in days or you just had a massive orgasm, should I require your use, I fully expect 100% horniness and enthusiasm.
“This remote is hooked up to your collar. With this button… you fall to the floor just like that. Hurt’s like a mother fucker hunh? That’s on low. Remember that. It is also set up to shock you should you cross a 20-foot perimeter of the house. I am notified by an app on my phone when you do something that stupid. Also, the garage and my office on the third floor are completely off limits. You will not fare well should you cross that threshold without me.
“Bring your cock over here. Is your dick head sensitive. It is! Fuck yes! As you get soft, it’s driving you crazy. Good. Good. I see a problem here. Your pubic hair is all over the place. You shouldn’t have hair down here. Look how long this hair is. There’s enough so that I can twirl a bunch around my finger. With a firm yank,… it comes out in one clump. Aww shut the fuck up. Most of the time your screams of pain will turn me on, but now it’s just annoying. Another clump on the other side, and it doesn’t even look like you lost any.
“Look at me faggot. Say ‘Thank you.’ Good fag. Open your mouth. Here eat your pubic hair. Go on chew it. Nasty? I know, now swallow. And here’s… another bunch. Swallow these…. And these… And these… You’ll be permanently shaved in the near future so you won’t have to do much pubic hair eating.
“While you finish your snack, let me take you around the place and show you your duties. This is the kitchen. David told me that you went to culinary school but then dropped out. Well, you will be doing all the cooking here. Cleaning too.
“Let’s go downstairs…. This is your room, although you really don’t have privacy. Over there is your cot. Next to it is the plug you will put into your collar every night. I am notified on my app should the power level drop below 75%. That’s equivalent for not charging for a full week. Unless I just slam you with shocks, I should never get one of those notifications.
“You have a wash basin there, and your toilet is there. There’s your douche hose over there in the shower. No, I haven’t gotten around to buying it a toilet seat; the cold porcelain is fine. And I haven’t hooked up the hot water down here.
“Let’s go up to the Master bedroom…. You never climb into my bed unless I invite you in. In fact no non-sexual furniture for you either without permission. Through that door is the master bath. You will keep this place spotless. That includes licking clean my toilet. The rimseat next to it is when I want to make you toilet paper or a full toilet.
“And here’s the playroom. It’s totally soundproofed. You are going to suffer a lot in here. Screaming is encouraged. In fact, what time is it? Seven. Well we might as well start now. Get on all fours—knees and elbows. Spread those knees wide. Every night you will present yourself in this position, as you will every morning.
“Don’t get too excited. I am going to fuck you good, long, and deep. But that won’t until the end. We got a long way to go. You see, the only people who knows my affinity for preferring the boys to the girls are Frankie, me, and now you. Your brother thinks I’m adding you to my harem of fags. This is something that cannot get out. And if it does, I will know it came from you, and I want you to know the perpetual hell that will come your way.
“Tonight is a test of what you can expect, but keep in mind, tonight’s suffering will be only five hours long, much shorter than what will be if my preference is ever widely known.
“And after the paddling your ass to a welted mess, whipping your back until it turns to bloody hamburger, kicking your balls until they are swollen to twice their size, bruising up your face, and fucking you with very little lube, I may feel the need to snuggle up with you afterwards.
“But first, there’s a lot to do before we do that. Oh look your balls are just ripe for a good old fashioned full-force kick. Every night and every morning you will get one to always remind you what you are.
“Faggot right now with this kick your hell begins.”
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burnedbyshoto · 3 years
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go the distance
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(will you) go the distance
— You’re perfectly content in life except for the fact that you are not dating Deku. When his best friend won’t help you out, you turn to the dark side to get what you want.
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pairing: pro hero!midoriya izuku x bad villain!reader
warnings: 18+, nsfw, smut, manga spoilers, pro hero!au, villain!reader, ofa usage for sex lol, size difference, manhandling, public sex, slight degradation and praise, deku eats his cum outta ya pussy, big dick deku, corruption but make it opposite, deku is a pervert change my mind
word count: 12,715
a/n: well, yall already knew I wanted to make this fic a reality, so here it is for bnharems villain collab!! check out all the already amazing stories if you haven’t already. thank you to kara, sky, and jo for reading this for me because lmao im ass rn. I’m gonna go to bed because I partied a bit too hard last night.
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your quirk: distortion – can make afflicted persons vision shift 6 cm to the left or right at the cost of having their own vision shift the same way
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“Breaking news: We have yet another report to add to the slew of attacks this month, this comes just days after we broadcasted rumors of a villain running rampant over the city. This spate of attacks has put the entire metropolitan area at a standstill, road closures, and damaged property making it difficult for commuters to get to work in the morning. 
“Road maintenance endeavors to do its best to keep the city running, but it seems futile when these attacks continue to increase. The entire city was brought to a standstill by the mysterious villain who has still not been named, but reports show they are nothing like we have ever experienced before. 
“Where are the heroes now? Who will save us from the terror overwhelming our city? 
“Every day the crime toll continues to rise and we have no one here to protect us. The Hero Public Safety Commission assured us earlier in the week that the crime rate would go down, that the top Heroes are out there protecting our city, but if so, where are they? Is it really safe to go out anymore, who can we trust? Would you put your life in the hands of a Hero today? When they have proved our streets are no longer safe. We still have no information on what is going on, or who is involved, but we must remain observant. We will continue to report the latest news as we receive it, but for now, we must implore you to heed the warnings of the city-wide curfew that is soon to be implemented. If anyone has any information on these occurrences in the city, please send them to us or contact the police, you can remain anonymous. The safety of our citizens is what is most important, stay vigilant and don’t go out unless it is absolutely necessary. One thing we know for sure: we can no longer rely on Heroes to protect us. The streets of our once-great city are no longer safe, we are no longer safe.”
The female reporter closes her eyes, despite still being on the air, her eyebrows furrowed as she exasperatedly sighs.
“Was that good enough, Mirage?”
You look at her with a pout, your eyes then clenching shut as your lips move with unsaid words as you motion for the cameras to stop rolling. You tilt your head right and left, muttering a bit.
“Did that seem better to you this time? I don’t know, I don’t think it was scary enough...”
You open your eyes to see the exasperated reporter looking at you as if she personally sought to end you right where you were sitting.
“You are the worst villain I’ve ever encountered,” she deadpans, and you laugh in agreement.
.
.
.
You weren’t really a villain.
If you must put a label on what you were, you would say that you were the best PR head any hero agency could ask for. You were, after all, the top student graduate from UA’s Business Course and had been ushered into a condensed agency the moment you were finished taking your graduation pictures. 
And well, if you are actually curious about the… villainy, you would like to uphold and continue to stress that you weren’t a villain! You were just a public nuisance – like those stupid YouTubers – with the ability to garner Pro Heroes’ attention! People had no reason to scoff at what you did on the daily.
You took both of these jobs very seriously!
It was like being straight out of a comic for you!
A simple – hopefully should the heroes you’re in charge of not be stupid – nine to five job by day, and a badass, crime-committing, sexy as shit villain by night! How could anyone ever hate you for your lifestyle! How could anyone ever hate you?!
But we are all noisy people, and everyone wondered just why you became a villain because you had a beautifully stable job with an impressive salary! Why would such an amazing woman such as yourself dabble in the evilness of humanity? 
Well, you did have an answer for the public.
“Why do you engage in evil, villainous schemes?” the reporter deadpans, absolutely and utterly not being paid enough to humor you in this forced interview.
The public loved drama, pizazz, a little showmanship even from what they deemed humanities worst! So, you told the world why you chose to be evil instead of good:
“Because I want to be!” you grin, flashing a pose as you make your away from the interviewer you had very much illegally forced to interview you. “And because a hero killed my cat!’
Of course, that was a lie! Why would you ever hand over the real reason as to why you decided to become a villain! You’d be laughed right out of Japan, possibly be murdered by a horde of fangirls!
For you see, there was one reason and one reason alone as to why you decided to take your place within the villainy hall of fame. Why you chose to do more in your day outside of your already demanding job.
And that one reason was: Pro Hero Deku, civilian name Midoriya Izuku.
Now, trying not to come off as some creepy, weirdo, stalker fangirl, you could fully admit that you were in love with the stupidly large hunk of a man that debuted as an official pro a year before you graduated from high school. 
You remember how the world was finally recovering from the year-long nightmare that had ensued. To be honest, you were stupidly surprised you had even managed to graduate, given that most of schooling had become somewhat of a joke.
FIVE YEARS AGO, MARCH, 2XXX:
It had been in the evening, the clear blue sky becoming ruby red and blood orange as you made your way out of campus. The air somehow smelled of sweet hay and gasoline, but you didn’t mind. There was hardly anyone out at this time, most students had made their way home already, and the only sounds were the moving cars of businessmen just trying to get back home.
There really wasn’t any reason to suspect anything to go wrong, this was a simple daily walk back home after school that wasn’t like any other. But then there had been a loud pop, an ever louder screech, and finally, you managed to whip your head in time to see a car tumbling through the air straight at you. 
There was hardly any time to think, even less to react, and the only thing you knew was that you were not going to survive.
You braced yourself, eyes clenching and body curling, your mind screaming because this was not going to be the way things ended. But before it could happen, before the car could come down upon you and squish you like a bug under a shoe, something picked you up and you were weightless.
Waiting for an impact that never came, the tears that were endlessly streaming down your face were suddenly stopped by rough, warm fingers smoothly wiping them away.
“Hey, it’s okay! You’re safe now!” a voice says softly to you, endearingly warm and comforting. “I’m here, don’t worry.”
“Am I… did I die?” you whisper, unsure if you even want the answer, your eyes remaining closed because you refused to open them up to some angel that could confirm your death. “God, what an embarrassing way to die!”
“Oh – um, no! You’re not dead! I promise!” the voice laughs brightly, just softly enough that you believe him and not be entirely horrified by the amused reaction. Your eyes crack open slowly, just barely peering back into the world, still half praying you weren’t dead. But all you saw was green. 
Green eyes, green hair, green clothes.
You blink, once, twice, realizing only then you were staring into the eyes of a boy about your age.
He had curly hair, freckles littering his face, and eyes that easily pierced through your very soul.
Without meaning to, your breath stopped, frozen in your lungs as you were captivated by a handsome man with a curving, beautiful smile. 
“See, I told you it was okay!” he teased you, head cocking to the side as he grinned largely.
The action itself seemed to strangle the strangest noise out of your mouth as you realized suddenly and immediately that your face was burning and all you could think was:
A cute hero rescued me, a cute hero rescued me, a cute hero rescued me, acuteherorescuedme!
“Sorry about that scare! I would’ve caught that car sooner, but I wasn’t paying attention to who was around!” the green boy apologized, bowing deeply in front of you in his apology. “There’s a commotion just up ahead, so I recommend you take the next road over.”
You nod numbly, unable to conjure even the slightest hint of your voice again as he stood up to his full length. He was average in height it seemed, taller than you, but still not towering. The hero looked behind his shoulder, those big green eyes focusing onto the distance, onto something you couldn’t even begin to imagine – or see, really. He blinked and turned back to you, smile gone but the gentle aura to him remained, but now his face, his mouth, was underlined with a sense of urgency and engagement to whatever sent a vehicle tumbling your way.
“Which train do you take home?” he asked, eyebrows relaxing from his stern position, as his smile picked up again. “I’ll take you closer to your station!”
“B train,” you manage to wheeze out – unable to be the reason why he was held up but also confused as to just what he could do to get you closer to the station that was at least a mile away from here.
“Perfect! I know where that is!” he laughs for just a moment, and before you could even ask if this was going to be some escorted thing – because you definitely did not need it – his arms were fastly secured around you, and suddenly you were weightless.
A cold wind rushed against your face, nipping at your nose, cheeks, and ears, sending your hair flying around – into your mouth! Oh, you were screaming! You were soaring through the skyline, being held by some hero you couldn’t name, and you were screeching at the top of your lungs.
Making the mistake of looking down, your arms were suddenly around his shoulders, your voice growing even sharper and louder as you squeezed against his body and refused to let go. His hands, despite the gloves, were warm on your back, and his soft chuckle warming you from nose to toes as he secured his grip on you.
“I got you,” he spoke, “I won’t let you go, I promise.”
Those words don’t exactly ease you, but there’s a comfort to the genuinity to his words. You nod nonetheless, your face buried deep into his neck. The cold wind continues to whip around you, the only thing sounding in your ears is the cruel whipping wind and quiet city below.
“I’m landing now,” he informed you, body shifting in the wind, and reflexively, you clung even tighter to him, expecting the similar stomach dropping motion of a roller coaster going straight down. “You’re – ack – c-choking me!”
The knowledge of that, hearing the strain and entirely unhidden sound of him choking against the current chokehold you had on him, you released him entirely with a shriek of your own. Was it a smart move? No, definitely not because you were how many hundreds – if not thousands – of feet in the air with a quirk that could not, and would not save you.
“It’s okay! I’m fine!” he quickly said, his arms shifting around your waist as you felt your body weight drop just the smallest bit. To which your focus landed to the concrete floor so far down, and you began screaming again. He panicked just a bit too. “Y-You’re okay too! We’re landing! We’re landing!”
Soon, but not soon enough, the concrete floor came underneath your feet, and you practically felt your knees buckle underneath you. The train station behind you was practically invisible, and you felt the floor come in contact with your knees, and you collapsed onto your hands and knees. You could feel the tears streaming down your face as you wheezed and panted, unable to move from your position. 
“Hey, look, we made it!” he laughed gently, probably being said in hopes that you would feel better. (It did make you feel slightly better, his laugh was light and pretty to listen to.) You could feel him approaching you, iron covered red shoes appearing before your vision. Looking up, you saw that the young hero was crouching, his face holding a wobbly smile that was earnest, worried, and full of unspoken hope. “I do need to get back, but before I do, are you good enough to be left alone?”
You blinked your soaked eyelashes at him, still largely unable to say anything at the cute hero in front of you who had a few scratches on his cheek, right below his freckles.
“Y-Yeah, um,” you say, your tongue cotten and lead in your dry mouth. “I-I’ll be fine, I think.”
The green eyed hero nods, offering you a hand and assisting you to your trembling legs, “That’s good to hear!” he chirped, his wobbly smile becoming a grand, bright grin. “You were really brave! I was impressed!”
Now, you were an idiot at times, but even you could spot a stupid lie. Still, hearing it said with such honesty, as if this hero who was no taller than five foot eight truly believed it, made something bubble in your chest, and soon you found yourself laughing.
“No need to lie to me, h-hero,” you manage to speak between stammering breaths, “thank you for saving me, though. I appreciate it.”
You grin crookedly at him, and to your utter delight, he reciprocates it.
“It’s the least I can do. I’d offer to take you home but… I’m not quite finished yet,” he says, and you can only nod, the conversation obviously reaching its last strides. You watch as he floats up, his eyes looking at you, but somehow focused how many miles away from where he had brought you from. “Stay safe?”
“I’ll try my best,” you agree to his question, hands clasping before your lap. “Finish the job quick, hero?”
He grins, “I’ll try my best.”
You feel a breathless sort of laugh escape you as you watch him beginning to shoot back up, but a sort of horror shoots through you as you rush forward, running right after him, hands cupping around your mouth as you scream:
“What’s your name?!”
The blur of green in the air freezes, and you stop running as you see green eyes and freckles focusing back onto you.
“Deku! My hero name is Deku!”
You stop at the curb of the street, eyes focused on the sky as the green eyed hero named Deku grins one last time before shooting off at a speed probably much faster than when he held onto you. The wind blows around you, and you can only feel the heat sitting on your cheeks and the way you’re smiling as you stare after his figure that's long, long gone.
“Deku...” you whisper to yourself, ignorant to the world of commuters beginning to appear at the station. “Thank you.”
And thus came the very apparent and obvious day in which you fell head over heels for Pro Hero Deku.
Now some people called you a stupid fangirl, obsessive stalker, and sometimes, yeah, you were obsessive and weird about your slight infatuation with a stranger. It was strange, you knew that! But you also knew that you had practically no chances of ever being able to woe the man behind the image of Deku because Midoriya Izuku practically existed as Deku 24/7.
After you graduated from high school, you were put into the same agency that was currently holding Deku. Without tooting your own rom-com obsessed horn too much, you fully expected to walk in and be handed Deku’s file as his PR manager and be able to thank him for not only saving you all that time ago, but also eventually sweep him off his feet. 
But your reputation preceded you well, probably too well, because the first day you entered the office and was handed your list of three clients to work with, neither one was for Deku. Being a PR manager for heroes was hard, a job that practically held no set hours because, unlike your typical celebrities, heroes had no type of privacy or protection. They were constantly under the spotlight, being viewed by adoring fans and scornful critics. Your job served as the first line of defense for heroes against the public, and there were some heroes that were quite hilariously easy to work for because they were genuinely good.
The older PR managers typically held the quieter, easy tempered, or less combat heavy heroes. These heroes typically never had a bad thing said about them, their job was a glorified PA job but even less because there was no expected demands from the heroes they had to take in. Unless, of course, a hero wanted to do some sort of public event they hadn’t considered. 
But there were the louder, quick to temper, or the heavy combat heroes that while made you an insane amount of money, also brought you a near 120 hour work week because there was so much to do, so much to consider, so much to keep your eyes on. There was the constant slander, the people who hated the louder, quick to temper heroes because they didn’t like their attitude, completely disregarding that they had been unsafe and a liability the entire time the hero was dealing with them. The talk shows that took months to convince to allow for an interview because they heard false rumors, and so you have to practically wrestle a boa constrictor to get a measly five minute interview done. And then the combat-heavy heroes… no one would ever shut up about building damages and how this hero broke his nose while he was stealing a store! 
Not to mention having to have every single piece of social media on your phone, set to notify you whenever your clients names were brought up so that you could look at it. You’ve seen more than enough lewd drawings of your clients to last you a lifetime, enough fanfiction, and fan edits that left you with blazing cheeks and the need to never look at your client ever again. But mostly you checked each and every update because you were their first and only line of legal defense on these sorts of things.
You’ve taken down leaked nudes, fake news, and qualmed rumors and speculations.
It was hard.
So when you were shown to your desk on your first day and three files were handed to you, you were shocked to see the hero names you would be working with.
Dynamight
Phantom Thief
Shouto
Somehow, without having yet to speak with a single one of your now current clients, you knew that you were going to have your work cut out for you.
“Good luck newbie!” the woman who gave you the initial tour chirped, clapping you on the back. “You got this!”
Good lord.
Without much to do other than reading through the three’s files, you realized that you already knew a bunch about two of three of your clients. DynaMight and Shouto were two heroes that you knew teamed up with and hung out with Deku a lot, both on-field and off-field if any of the out of costume pictures said anything. Because of their connection with Deku, you had at one point learned a bit about them.
You knew that Shouto was a crowd favorite. He was tall and sweet and a complete airhead at the best moments despite him being smart. Controversy still surrounded his character, despite all the good he did, because of the past history that was brought out about his father Endeavor and his brother Dabi. The country couldn’t figure out where they stood in terms of that reveal. Endeavor did a lot before the reveal, and continued to rise up to everything in his path despite the skeletons in his closet being thrown out for the world to see. They neither forgave him, nor hated him, they only watched and waited. Then Dabi, of course, was seen as a could-have-been version of Shouto, and many tried to ask if he was really a hero and not actually siding with the League. After all, why on Earth would he be defensive of his father too?
The public had an unmoving image of Shouto based on anything but who he was as an individual, and you decided immediately that it would be your job to fix that. He was also, after all, a dear friend of Deku, so you’d do anything.
Phantom Thief was your easiest of the three clients. A relatively well mannered man who was kind and a bit weird in a fun way. He had a great sense of self and was a reliable person on the field. He made a great hero, but you could see the way his spirit blazed with an unspoken rivalry between him and the other two of your clients. Well, it seemed like he was the best until his former self appointed rivals came into the picture, but that was hardly ever, and according to Shouto, he was way worse back in their first year. 
The greatest scandal he’s had so far in your three years of working at their agency was the one time he was lied to about a quirk and accidentally copied a woman's quirk that gave her the ability to change her cup size. Safe to say that Phantom Thief accidentally broke a few buttons on his shirt and was unable to stop civilians from snapping pictures. 
But of course, the one that had you practically crying yourself to sleep nightly for more than one reason was Dynamight.
You’d known about him the moment you looked up Deku on your phone.
They were practically a hero duo in everything but name. They were always seen doing the same things together, whether that be on patrol together or maybe getting dinner, most of their top recorded fights were done with each other by their sides. You had also learned that they were childhood friends, and you practically vibrated at the thought that even though Deku was not your client, the chances of meeting him were still astronomically high.
There was no way you wouldn’t not meet Deku!
But you were wrong, so very, very wrong.
Turns out the hero duo in everything but name meant that Dynamight refused to let Deku be anywhere near him in the agency – the very small amount of time they spent in here. The few times they were in the same room, Dynamight absolutely refused to be interrupted because that was their paperwork hour. You had only ever been blessed with seeing green curls turning the corner as Dynamight gripped your forearm, refusing to let you follow.
“Like hell I’ll let you distract the shitnerd,” he stated simply, his red eyes narrowed as he stared down his nose at you. You opened your mouth, ready to defend your not so innocent intentions. “I’m not stupid, so don’t pretend like you won’t try anything.”
Your jaw snapped shut.
Safe to say that you couldn’t do anything about Deku so long as Dynamight was around.
But Dynamight as a client was exhausting to put it kindly.
There were so many opinions and thoughts and issues and praises coming from everywhere. Hell, even the fucking Americans and westerners had caught wind of the Wonder Duo at one point and while you were well knowledgable on their opinions on Deku, the ones on Dynamight were the ones that you had to focus on now.
People still called him a villain, so many unhappy with the fact that he still screamed and cursed and threatened. There were many conspiracy theories that he was working with the long dead League of Villains. They turned their nose up at the fact that he was childhood friends with Deku, claiming that no way an asshole like him could have ever been friends with him. And of course the bullying revelation that had come out shortly after your debut. 
That had been a trip, one that had you even shocked as Dynamight approached the table in front of the media, his body calm and composed. You had watched as he simply said he owed nothing to the media, that he had already done all that he could to deserve his atonement and deserve Deku’s forgiveness. He had spoken clearly, concisely that it wasn’t any of their damn business as to what he did, and if he apologized to them, the unaffected, the ones that had nothing to do with his early years of bullying Deku, of his previous weakness and insecurity, it would be a waste of his breath. 
It isn’t to them he should ever be apologizing to anyways.
You had watched as he stood up, face calm, and hands shoved into his pockets as he stood and walked away despite the screaming reporters. You had wanted to stay longer, have your own hand in damage control, but a swoop of green came in and Deku was at the microphone eyebrows furrowed as he pointed a finger at them all and said that his past with Kacchan was between him and Kacchan only, and his decision to forgive Kacchan were his and only his.
You didn’t hear the rest, didn’t even get the option to hear the way the hero you loved defended the hero you worked for – his childhood friend.
No.
Dynamight had grabbed your elbow and dragged you out of the room with him, the metal doors clanging closed the moment fierce green eyes met yours.
You watched in the company car as Dynamight looked outside the window, one elbow on the doorframe holding his chin; his gaze focused sharply on nothing but the passing sidewalk. Had it not been for the way the hand on top of his lap trembled, you would have thought he was perfectly okay.
Neither one of you talked about that again.
But just because you didn’t talk about it again, didn’t mean the world was the same. People claimed he brainwashed Deku, others demanded that Deku beat the shit out of Dynamight. You knew that Dynamight would want nothing to do with this, but you would stay in the office (an almost useless, empty office as most PR managers did their business at home) for hours long after you were supposed to be gone, practically arguing with someone who only existed behind a screen and didn’t even care that much – but you couldn’t stop.
Seeing Dynamight’s shaking hand had really done a number on you.
“The hell are you still doing here, eyelashes,” Dynamite asked from the dark entrance of the floor. “Go home already, don’t waste your time.”
You had startled at the initial intrusion, but you immediately relaxed seeing the smudged paint around red eyes and blond hair. You barely kept your gaze on him before turning back to your computer and continuing your argument.
“I’m not wasting my time, I’m doing my job,” you remark, eyes squinting at your keyboard because your vision is definitely blurry. “I’ll be heading out soon anyways.”
“God you’re fucking annoying and stubborn!” Dynamight barked, the heel of his hand slamming into his forehead. “This is exactly why I won’t introduce you to the fucking nerd!” 
“What?!” you shriek, suddenly looking at your client as if he had personally attacked you – and in a way he did. “What do you mean you won’t introduce me to Deku because of that?! I’ve already met Red Riot, Chargebolt, Cellophane, and Pinky through you!”
“Yeah, because they’re not stubborn idiots too!” Dynamight accuses, jamming a gloved finger at you as he begins stomping your way. You startle, your chair shooting backward as the explosion hero makes his way towards you at alarming speed.
“What are you—?!” you shriek, hands flailing about as he grabs you by the collar of your distressed shirt.
Dynamight lifts you up to your feet as if you were a sack of flour and you grasp onto his forearm.
“I might tell you that you’re the most annoying and stubborn bitch in the world, but you’re not worse than fucking Deku,” Dynamight sneers, his red eyes narrowed and stern. “I’m not going to let you meet him until you learn how to give or you’ll hurt him, and I’m not going to be part of any reason as to why he gets hurt again.”
Your jaw dropped, clearly offended, but you closed it just as fast; the weight of his words made you a bit sad, even for just a bit.
“You’re kinda cute when you care for Deku, you sure I’m his biggest fan?” you tease, grinning at the hero to which he rolls his eyes.
“Shut the hell up and go home already; it’s annoying seeing you fight a losing battle that’s none of your damn business,” Dynamight simply said, putting you back onto your feet and blocking out your desk. 
“I’ll go home on the condition that for my birthday you at least consider introducing us!” you say, unwilling to move from your spot. “I’ve been working for you for three years! You’ve kept me away for three years!”
Dynamight’s stare didn’t even shift the slightest millimeter, his red eyes unamused as you groaned in grief and annoyance.
“I’m stubborn? Have you met yourself?!” you grumble snatching your jacket and purse from the hook on your cubicle and shoving them on. “My names God of Explosion Murder: Dynamight and I am Stubborn™ but will never admit it.”
You continued mocking your long time client and most definitely friend if you dared to say so, and dragged the heel of your foot all the way to the elevator to which you were joined by Dynamight. The trip down the elevator is silent, and you keep your gaze locked on the closed doors, unwilling to even look at the hero next to you.
Soon enough, the elevator reached the ground floor, and you got ready to walk out.
“I’ll consider it,” Dynamight said as the elevator doors opened. “Also, fucking stop calling me Dynamight, Bakugou’s fine.”
He walked off the elevator with his hands shoved into the pockets of his pants.
“Thank you, Bakugou!” you shriek, your lungs failing you at the thought of finally being introduced to Deku! You hadn’t moved from your spot from the elevator, your chest hammering with the thought of getting to meet Deku.
“Don’t get your hopes up, you’re still irritatingly stubborn,” Bakugou merely calls over his shoulder before lifting his hand in a halfhearted wave before stepping out of the glass door.
That brought you back to reality just a bit and you scowled, knowing you would have to go beyond and above to prove that. 
But you see, there were many reasons to cry about having Bakugou as your client. Besides the stinkhole of his previous bullying, people just were not understanding his typically prickly exterior. You had to go head to head with reputation tarnished, had to slap fangirls away who demanded that Bakugou degrade them where they stood. It was hard to not be stubborn as not only his PR manager but his friend, and in less than a month, still plenty of time before your birthday, you had already grown irritated of the meeting-Deku-card he waved over your head.
“Mei, if I have to go any longer than this, I will die and hope I am reborn as Deku’s new guardian angel,” you pouted, chin pressed against a cold metal tabletop. Your hands being used as glove models for one of your best friends Hatsume Mei. “It’s first of all impossible getting anywhere near him with his guard dog Bakugou literally stopping me whenever I’m within a ten foot radius! And then I’m not even sure what will happen when we do meet again! Would I even be able to talk to him?!”
“Why wouldn’t you? You talk to all my babies with me! There’s practically nothing you can’t do,” Mei laughs, smacking you against your back before returning her intense gaze back to the gloves. “Deku’s uh… I actually can’t remember him but I’m sure he’s a great conversationalist! I think he helped me with the Sports Festival my first year.”
 “That was Iida,” you laugh, wiggling your fingers as Mei demanded. “You’re so bad with names and faces, I’m impressed you know mine.”
“You saved my baby, of course I remember you,” Mei turned her grin towards you, “but come on, why can’t you get with him besides this Bakugou guy?”
“Well, he’s just like Bakugou! He’s practically married to his job! Their schedules basically match together perfectly! There’s literally only three hours a day while they’re on the job that they’re not together! And that’s when they patrol their own parts of town because there’s hardly any activity they don’t need to be attached by the neck.” You explain and rant, your cheeks puffing as you stand up and allow Mei to run further tests on the glove. 
“Sounds like you gotta become a villain to woo this hero guy, huh,” Mei spoke, eyes focused on the glove as you pointed a finger at the far wall and watched as a beam exploded from the fingertip and pierced through the steel wall like butter. “Too bad you’re a goody two-shoes or else I could make you some serious villain gear and make you a fearsome villain to then prove that Hatusme Mei’s babies and creations are untouchable and the best in the world! Muah-ha-ha-ha!”
You know her words are more joking than serious, but that doesn’t stop your eyes from widening. Your body shifts over to where she was standing and you screech pointing at her and just narrowly missing setting off the laser again. 
“THAT'S IT!”
“What’s it?” she asked, completely confused.
“You have to make me a villain!” you exclaim, rushing over to Mei, who is eagerly waiting for her babies returnal especially since it ran perfectly. “You have to make me near-invisible gear that can keep me going toe to toe with Deku until I can seduce him!”
“You want to turn evil?” Mei questions, finger pressing quizzically to her chin. “That doesn’t seem right.”
“I am definitely not villainous to pull that off, but like I pretend to be a villain so that he talks to me and we can like get to know each other!” you exclaim, you’re unable to keep from hopping up and down on your feet, your grin unfathomably bright. “It's practically a romcom in the making!”
“I don’t know if that’s a good idea,” Mei laughs, altering the band of fabric around your waist. “You do know heroes and villains hardly speak? It’s more like… ‘I’m more powerful,’ ‘No me!,’ ‘No, ME!’”
“Um, I’m pretty sure that’s not true, but whatever! I’ll figure out a way!” you continue on unaffected because this plan was genius! Especially if you had Mei in your corner?! Her recent development of not using such… steampunk designs made her creations elusive and dangerous to own. Hence why she was an extremely sought out manufacturer, by villains and heroes alike. “And if I can go toe to toe with Deku of all people, you’ll know that you and your babies are the undeniable best!”
“Hm, that is promising,” Mei agrees with a nod as she forces you around. “Is this Deku guy all that good?”
“He’s the one you made the iron soles for!” you chirp and watch as the recognition and challenge spark immediately in Mei’s yellow eyes.
“Oh,” Mei chuckles, turning away from you and looking at her pile of made babies. “This would be good.”
“So we have an agreement?” you grin excitedly. 
“Give me a month, and we’ll have your debut!”
Fuck Bakugou for thinking you weren’t good enough!
.
.
.
You hadn’t expected the initial phases of villainy to be quite as hard as it was, if you were being honest. The late nights at Mei’s personal lab made sure to keep your plans a solid secret, but you had to prepare for the wild range of what Deku’s quirk entailed.
There was smoke, something you were already used to working in because of Bakugou and his quirk. You’ve navigated quite a bit in his smog, and as long as you knew where you were, you would be fine. 
There was also that danger sense, which allowed him to know when things were coming – something that shouldn’t be too big an issue considering you weren’t actually attempting to extract danger onto him. 
Blackwhip was a big issue. How far or how much could you do if he even grabbed a hold of you. With sleuthing and the help of Mei having files on everyone's quirks, you were able to find information that blackwhip was a creation made of energy. Meaning that Mei was now making some type of destructing material to lessen the energy of the quirk, allowing for you to escape should he attempt to capture you this way.
Float was stopped by having most of your fights occur within a confined area, which was needed for you anyways! You didn’t need to be caught by anyone else but him! You didn’t actually need to land in jail – you would prefer to not be handled by anyone but Deku, actually.
Then of course the stupid superstrength and superspeed, both of which you knew you could handle with your quirk. You’ve been head to head with people with quirks similar to that before, and you knew your quirk was tricky enough that you’d manage to slip right past his fingers just fine. After all, you knew full and well that the Deku who took down S class villains was worlds quicker than F class villains – aka you.
You would be fine.
But today was day one, first of how many days it would take to get Pro Hero Deku, aka Midoriya Izuku to fall in love with you. 
You were dressed in a black and purple bodysuit that was definitely not inspired by Shego from Kim Possible’s costume. Your hair was dyed purple by a special spray Mei created that would be washed out by the end of the day, but wouldn’t ever give away that it was fake. You wore a mask over your eyes, and grinned seeing that you couldn’t see a fleck of color on your irises. 
Perfect.
And with far too much confidence, nauseating excitement, and unjustified attitude, you marched down towards your first spot, ready and adopting the identity of who you were about to become.
Mirage.
It was time to act. Deku and Dynamight were on different patrol routes right now, and you sent your threat, readying for the moment for the man in green to come in with the desire to stop you. With the very real threat of stealing every puppy within the tristate area being broadcasted within the area unless and hero bests you, you waited for your savior to come and stop you.
“I am here to stop your villainous acts, you villain!” a voice shattered the silence just as it shattered your heart. You looked over your shoulder to see some hero you couldn’t name standing at the other stairwell entrance with his fists clenched and ready to fight. 
You groaned, shoulders crumbling with your well hidden disappointment.
“I wasn’t looking for you!” you exclaimed, pointing an accusatory finger at the flabbergasted hero who was just trying to figure out what was happening. “Where’s Deku?!”
“He’s – he’s not here yet,” he stammers, eyes wide. “It’s not his day anymore to patrol this area?”
“Aw fuck!” you complain, pouting at the realization that you had messed up. “Okay, I’ll be back later, please don’t come back. Bye!”
With a small wave, you easily stepped through the door to the stairwell next to you and left, your threat empty and the hero victorious despite not actually stopping you. And unfortunately, although you had wished and prayed even, this was not the last time a screw up like this would happen.
At the threat of destroying all the cats in the area, you had another hero show up, not Deku, and you groaned and left before they could even finish their call of stopping you.
You then threatened to poison the watering system, to which you found out that Deku was held up at another major villain threat in a different city. You groaned and stomped off after that. 
Then there was the time you swore you would increase the overall temperature of the city per one degree celsius should your demands not be made. Shouto answered that one and you immediately walked away the moment you saw the familiar head of red and white coming your way.
Time and time again you kept being caught by heroes you could not care about, being confronted by no names and nobodies. It was tiring, and Mei was beginning to sigh just the smallest bit whenever you showed up to try yet again.
But you weren’t a quitter!
You would win!
This was your last attempt at getting Deku to notice you.
After threatening to wrap all the citizens in the area with a giant froot by the foot, you were almost sad to say that the heroes ignored your cry for chaos and no one had come to check on you.
You sat outside the building you used as your trap for Deku, pouting into a hot dog that the neighborhood's grandma gave you because you looked like you needed something to eat. It’s a good thing you weren’t actually a villain or else they’d be fucked, you bitterly thought as you took another bite of your food. 
It had been a month of empty, no Deku appearances, and you were going to bite the bullet and pretend to be not stubborn just so stupid Bakugou of all people could introduce you.
You kicked your feet as you sat on the staircase, humming as you watched the empty streets bend with the wind. It was quiet, beautiful, peaceful.
“YOU!” a voice shrieked to your left, and you watched a pudgy, red nosed man racing over towards you, a flash drive clenched in his hands. “TAKE THIS! RUN! DON’T LET THE HEROES TAKE IT!”
You gawked at him, feeling the small plastic device being shoved into your hands as the man collapsed at your feet. You squeaked when you heard a voice yelling stop and you bounced to your feet, turned into the building and raced in.
Your breathing was erratic, heart in your throat as you raced up the stairwell, unable to begin to imagine what the hell the information on the flash drive held. You were practically hyperventilating as you reached the floor you had come to know extremely well, and you stood near the window with shaky hands and legs.
What did you take?!
“I’m going to need that back, I’m afraid,” a low smooth voice said from behind you, and you froze immediately. Old anxiety overcome by a new anxiety, one that made your stomach flip and blood burn. 
Turning around, you felt awestruck to see the one man you’ve been waiting for… for fucking years now, really, to appear before you, finally be there. In the flesh, completely, entirely. Your jaw dropped, your gaze looking down from your clenched hand that held the USB to the way that Deku looked at you with warm eyes that were underlined with steel that made you want to drop to your knees, confess everything, and beg to be his. God, he was so fucking tall. He had only been about five foot eight the last time you had actually talked, and now he was at least a foot taller. His teenager haircut was long gone, now replaced with his curls trimmed at the nape of his neck before filling out on top – not quite an undercut. He had more freckles now, surely. His skin just a bit tanner, a scar trailing from his cheek to his jaw. You knew there were more scars, just as you knew that there were dimples when he smiled.
You wanted to have him between your legs while you begged for mercy, holy shit.
Tucking the USB into your pocket, you tilted your head as you will yourself to relax.
“I went through all the trouble of getting it... I think if I’m going to hand it over quickly, I deserve to know what’s on it, no?” you tease, your confidence coming out of nowhere while a smile spreads ever so largely over your features. Deku’s eyes widened just a bit, shock overcoming his green eyes.
“I’m sorry, but that’s confidential,” Deku stresses, taking a step forward toward you. You click your tongue, taking a step backward while grinning.
“I don’t think that’s what I asked for,” you giggle as you watch Deku’s face go through an array of emotions before settling onto one – curiosity.
“What do you want?” he asked, apparently entirely ready to discuss any and all terms and conditions with you.
“Honestly?” you reply, tapping a gloved finger to your chin as you ‘think.’ Deku, however, nods. His stance relaxing, becoming one of preparedness but not the takedown he had previously entered with.
“A date with you.”
You watch as Deku’s eyes slam wide open, his jaw dropping immediately and he stammered. Oh, how your heart soared and how you felt giddy and wonderful as he seemed to slip and slide on his own tongue!
“A-A date?!” he ends up almost shrieking, his head shaking left and right. “T-That’s a total lie! You can’t possibly – well, no! Please tell me the truth!”
But you were giddy, practically drunk off the fact that you were making the most powerful hero in the world blush like a little schoolboy. You suddenly were on the offensive, stepping towards your hero who was much larger than you with power and drive behind each step. And it must have been the way you stared him down, the way you walked towards him at blank range with such brimming confidence that Deku takes a step back. But it’s something that makes you want to laugh as the heel of his foot gets caught on a raised tile, and you watch the mountain of a man tumble to the floor.
You’re on top of him immediately, hands pressed to his shoulders, knee settling near his crotch with most of your weight so he got the idea to not do anything funny. The USB sits between your fingers, and you lean over his flushed face that looks up at you with wide eyes.
“Actually, I changed my mind, I know what I want,” you say instead, nose ghosting over his. “Everytime I decide to do something… naughty… I want you to be the hero on the case to stop me. You and just you.”
You lean in closer, so close that you could see the specks of gold in his green, green eyes.
Deku hasn’t spoken, and you’re pretty sure his chest isn’t moving as you press your breasts against his.
“Understood, De-ku?”
Your teeth tug at his bottom lip and let go as he nods.
“Good, good,” you grin, sitting up on his chest and taking the USB in your fingers and slipping it into his utility belt. “Take good care of that for me, I’ll see you next time, hero…”
You had only managed to flash a quick wave before disappearing through your usual door, hoping and praying to god that whatever the hell possessed you would continue until you reached Mei’s. It wouldn’t hit you until much, much later than you had stunned Pro Hero Deku speechless within the first meeting.
Hell, you thought giddily as you answered Bakugou’s call about how he probably just got into a bit of a messy situation, maybe you do have the potential to woo him like this. 
.
Thus truly began your descent as the villain Mirage.
.
It was quickly accepted and discovered that the moment you stepped into that costume and colored hair that you were the prey for Deku and Deku only. Most of your interactions with Deku occurred within buildings, and you used Mei’s gear to gain the final laugh each and every time to allow for you to escape. There were times, however, where you could be seen racing through the sky. Jumping from rooftop to rooftop as Deku followed after you, leaping, tumbling, and even catching you at times. 
You flirted with him heavily, allowing yourself to be caught so that you could bat your pretty lashes and press your chest against his. It didn’t matter how professional he was, how good at his job he was, Deku was a pervert – so obviously a pervert it made slipping away almost too easy.
But because you had the world-renowned, world known Pro Hero Deku as the only hero on your case, soon the small block who had to play victims to your horrendous crimes became only a small percentage of people who were watching your crimes. These near daily crimes (or inconveniences/botherings as the people on the internet say to defend you and your actions) are becoming both a worldwide sensation, and so, it took nothing for you to continue having Deku at your feet and the world chipped in. So you agreed to do interviews, forcing uneager reporters to do segments on you so that the hype behind you and Deku’s relationship grew.
You didn’t want him to leave you, not until you got what you wanted, and unless you were an idiot, you were nearly positive you were almost there.
Why would you say that?
Well, a few reasons.
The first came about a week after you had first met Deku again.
You had joyously gathered the means to create a machine to shave down an eighth of an inch of everyone's shoes in the entire country of Japan without their knowledge. You had ever so evilly explained that the point of this was to ensure that for a full day, everyone would feel off and unbalanced but would not know why.
You had said this, grinning widely as you turned around to see Deku standing there attempting to fight off a very amused smile. 
“I don’t think that would be all too evil, Mirage,” he called out to you, arms folding across his chest as he watched you set up the machine to do exactly what you said you would do.
“Mm, that’s what you say now, but just wait until you’re one of the losers stumbling around,” you say back, grinning as you turn around for just a second, wagging the knife at Deku from the distance. 
“Well, regardless, you know I can’t let you do that,” Deku laughs just slightly, and you grin, standing up.
“Oh, yeah?”
“Yes, so I’m going to have to ask you to stop right there.”
You giggle.
“Make me.”
You’re not sure what happens, but there’s dodging and weaving, spinning and sliding. You’re practically wheezing from how hard you’re laughing as Deku can not manage to land a finger on you with the help of Mei’s items and your quirk. It all comes to an end when instead of dodging, you throw yourself right at him, and Deku has not anticipated that. 
His eyes are wide open and you fiercely grin as he falls back onto the floor, unbalanced and only slightly frantic. You have the knife pointed at his neck, the dull blade sitting gently on his skin.
“So, Deku,” you taunt teasingly, your teeth burying into your bottom lip for just a moment at the sight of the dark flash in his green, beautiful eyes. “Tell me one thing, or I’ll continue on with my vile plans.”
“O-Okay?”
“Are you single?”
The second attempt came a few many weeks later. 
You had gathered about 75 tons of glitter bombs and were in the current process of making them one. You had plans of setting it off over Tokyo so that for practically the rest of eternity, the entire city would have glitter everywhere. The only thing is that you did have to glue the glitter bombs together because, well, no one made super giant ones.
“This is so annoying, there’s glitter everywhere, and I’m only ten glitter bombs in!” you complain to the ‘empty’ room but knowing full and well that Deku had appeared through the broken window at least five minutes ago.
“If it’s annoying to you, then shouldn’t you stop?” Deku replied and you grinned. 
He really couldn’t stay quiet, huh?
“Well, if it’s annoying to me, then that means every one of my victims will also find it annoying. Win-win situation.” you say, turning around towards him and winking. Facing back towards the glitter bombs you scowl, “stupid fucking glue gets everywhere, too!”
“Regardless, you know I can’t let you do that,” Deku said as leveled as he could although you swore you heard a laugh in his voice.
“Just try and stop me,” you reply back stone cold.
You stand up and watch as Deku stands up from the windowsill and sighs just a bit too heavily.
“Guess I have to,” he says and shoots out before you’re well prepared.
Typically, and probably in any other situation, this would have been the end. Pro Hero Deku had come at you with the speed and power as he took out any other Class F criminals, but unfortunately for him, and definitely fortunately for you that glue was EVERYWHERE.
Deku’s hand was stuck onto your arm, and your chest was glued to his stomach, and you swear you never quite got the strawberry Deku references until right now.
The perverted hero burned scarlet, his face practically simmering with heat as your body became undeniably stuck to his. You had to fight off the vindictive smirk, the practically snarling grin as you could feel something hot and heavy twitch at your hip.
“Fuck,” Deku wheezed.
“Fuck, yeah,” you grinned.
.
.
“WHAT?!”
.
.
Deku could not look you in the eyes for about 10 more interactions following that, but you counted that as a win. But undoubtedly, your starred and favorite memory of it all was something that occurred just last week of the current present events.
You had stood on top of a building, threatening the entire government of stealing (i.e., cutting off) the aglet of their shoes and sweaters and then removing all the laces so that it would result in their wasted time and entire humiliation!
“I don’t think most people even know what aglets are, to be honest,” Deku said from behind you. You turned around to see that he was standing there with an unsuppressed grin. “It’s not a good enough threat.”
You go unfazed by his judgement, choosing to instead bat your eyelashes and push your hair behind your ear.
“Not a good enough threat, and yet, you’re still here?” you tease, enjoying the way pink flushes to his cheeks.
“Where else would I be?” he says, and you have to ignore the way your stomach fills with butterflies. 
“You’re not cute when you flirt back,” you deadpan, biting your tongue harshly when he says ‘hey!’ “Enough chit chat, let me kick your ass now and then do what I need to do.”
Unlike probably what is 95% of the time, you made the first move today. 
You were on the offensive, jabbing and weaving, sweeping and punching. Deku’s green eyes were nearly black as he watched you, analyzing and taking in your movements, countering them all without so much of an issue.
“I still don’t get your quirk,” Deku grunted as his hand swiped at the empty air. “Why won’t you tell me?”
“So then you can turn me in to the government who are still salty about their aglets? I don’t think so!” you say with a laugh, rolling out of the way as Deku lunges forward. “Try again, baby, I have full faith that you’ll get it.”
Deku puffed out a chuckle and lunged again, his huge gloved hand swiping at you, with nearly accuracy despite your quirk being on. But… he wasn’t exactly perfect.
RIIIIIIIIIP!
Cold air hit your breast and your jaw dropped as your very exposed breast appeared before you and Deku. Pro Hero Deku had torn the breast of your costume, the costume that you purposefully did not wear a bra for because you had wanted this exact scenario to play out.
“DEKU!” you screech, pretending to be modest and covering your tit as Deku finally yanked himself out of staring at your breast and whipped around. 
“Oh my god, I am so sorry! I didn’t think that was going to happen! I didn’t even mean to look at your boob! It just sort of all happened too fast and it was very shocking! N-Not that you have an ugly boob or anything because actually I think you have a very great boob! But oh my god, I need to shut up please ignore me!” Deku spoke so fast in a matter of five seconds, and you couldn’t even tell him to come back as he sprinted away.
His ears burned red and you swore even as he was gone, you could still see the red of his ears illuminating the sky.
You laugh.
“What a perv.”
And so, we are back to the beginning.
Back to how you forced a local news channel to read your demands so that you could hopefully take your final bow as Mirage forever.
With the threat of having a machine that would make dogs bark at a frequency for hours on end until humans eardrums broke then bleed. You made your way to your typical building and hummed as you waited. 
The world outside was the same as always.
There were a few people out, a few cars driving through the street, and a few birds chirping here and there.
It was peaceful.
“Don’t you think the new reporter thing was a bit dramatic?” Deku chuckled from behind you.
You were used to him approaching like that, used to him trying to portray being elusive and cool. In your opinion, it just made him dorky.
“No such thing as being dramatic when I’m trying to go head to head with the greatest hero ever,” you respond back effortlessly. You spin on your heel and look back at Deku, who is leaning against a doorframe that he most definitely is slouching on so that the top of his head doesn’t hit the frame. “Hi, Deku.”
“Hi, y/l/n,” he says with a soft smile, one that's slightly victorious, one that makes your stomach knot in a pleasant way.
“Ah, you discovered my secret identity,” you observe, grinning as you begin approaching Deku. “Should I be scared?”
“Probably not, I don’t think I could do anything to you,” Deku sighs, pushing off the door frame and walking towards you too. “You’re pretty amazing, y/l/n.”
“Let’s prove that then,” you grin while zipping forward.
As if the both of you knew that this was the end of the line, the final confrontation, the battle this time was different. It was showy, flirty, full of spins and side steps, playing a game of cat and mouse while dodging and weaving. You laughed as blackwhip dissolved around your costume, and you frowned as he began using more of his power to get from point A to point B much quicker.
You’re not quite sure how it happened, what exactly you did wrong, or maybe Deku just finally figured out the pattern you used for your quirk because suddenly you were being tackled from behind. You shrieked as the two of you went down, his body flushed on top of you, his chest pressing to your shoulders. 
The both of you were heaving, panting, completely out of breath from the five minutes you took playing around. He holds your wrists in one hand, pinned above your head, and the other one is on your waist. You were trapped beneath him, unable to move the absolute unit of a man above you, arms and hips weak to his weight. You shoved your hips up, attempting to shift some of his weight off you, but you froze as he choked on a breath by your ear.
Your ass was pressed against something hard, thick, and hot.
Oh.
Ohhh fuck.
It was happening.
Holy fucking shit.
Your breathing hitches as you thrusted your ass up again, confirming you were grinding on what was definitely Deku’s hardening cock. And once again, Deku makes the prettiest, most embarrassed gravelly grunt at the back of his throat and you feel like every strand of resistance and strength snaps.
The hand on your waist pulls you even closer against his crotch, and there's lips pressing against your neck, and you absolutely lose it. 
He kisses your neck sloppily, teeth nipping at your exposed flesh, and you grind against him, moaning and thrusting back as your body feels like it's on fire. He wanted you! He wanted you and your plan to woo him worked!
“I’ve wanted this for so long,” you keen breathlessly. “Wanted you so badly, Deku.”
“Fuck,” Deku curses, his hips thrusting back against your clothed ass with power you couldn’t fucking wait to feel. “I wanted you too. Wanted you so badly, but didn’t think – holy shit.”
His hand that pins your wrists lets go of you, and moves to grab your jaw. You nearly fucking melt as his full lips slam against yours, and you moan as his lips move against yours. There’s something indescribable about how he’s kissing you, the want, the need, the months of suppressed tension bursting through every move and curve of his mouth. It doesn’t matter to you that you’re pressed up against the concrete floor, you feel like you’ve been placed into another world, an area where you can never come back.
Your arm reaches behind you and buries into his soft curls, you tug at them as your ass circles against his thrusting hips. His tongue slips into your mouth, and you whine at the hot, wet muscle in your mouth, and it sends your head spinning. You can’t take it anymore, you need him, want him flushed against your front.
“Can I fuck you?” Deku asks swollen lips pulling away from yours, his mouth frantic and trailing kisses up your cheeks and down your jaw. “Please, I wanna fuck you so bad. Wanna fuck you on the floor and against the wall. Can I make you mine?”
You nod your head frantically, unable to come up with the words to say in order to tell him yes.  
Deku laughs breathlessly and flips you over so that it’s your back against the floor now. 
And just like you want him to, Deku comes down to reclaim your mouth. Hot, open mouthed kisses, teeth tugging at your lips and hands grabbing your waist. His hands are huge against you filling up the space between your hip and your waist without an issue. Your legs wrap around his waist, feeling entirely small underneath him, but entirely ready to be fucked by him.
His lips move expertly against yours, teeth nibbling at your lips, mouth then sucking on your tongue. You can’t keep the continuous moans from leaking out, can’t keep yourself from staying quiet as your eyes flutter open and see green eyes so dark they look black, staring down at you with the intensity of a predator. 
You were his prey, and you would present to him at the drop of a hat.
His body is hot, heat rolling off of his hero costume in waves, making you feel like you were near burning against him. And the heat between his thighs sits at the bottom of your ass, thrusting up and grinding against you so that you don’t forget even for a moment that you are making him this way. 
“I always knew you’d have such a pretty moan,” Deku mumbles as his fingers find the zipper to your costume and begin to tug it down. His lips trail down your neck, biting and nipping at the newly exposed flesh. “Knew you’d look so pretty under me, waiting to be fucked into submission.”
The words spark something within you, your eyes fluttering as your hips grind just a tad bit faster and you whine. 
“Aw, is that what you wanted this entire time, y/l/n?” Deku asks, his grin pressed against your collarbone. “Wanted to be stretched out and fucked until you can’t anymore?”
“I want it,” you gasp, your fingers burying deep into his curls. “I want you, I want it, I want your dick in me already!”
“Not into foreplay?” Deku chuckles just a bit, tongue then tracing up your neck. 
“Oh I am,” you snap, fingers finding the zipper of his own costume. “You can find out later how much I’m into it, but right now, I have been wanting you for years, and you will not make me wait any longer!”
Deku only nods frantically, and it's a mess of limbs, sloppy kisses, and clothes as the both of you strip to nothing. 
Deku’s in between your legs, one hand pressed to the back of your knee, the other gripping what you believe is his dick because it makes everything in the world freeze as you see it. It’s huge, so thick that his hand wraps around it in a nice grip, and it long, curling up to his abs, curved and veiny. 
“Holy shit,” you squeak, your cunt already clenching at the thought of taking that in. 
“Are you ready?” Deku asks, the hand on your leg moving away for a moment as he cards his fingers back through his hair. “I don’t have a condom, though.”
“That’s fine, I don't care,” you dismiss his words, eyes too focused on the flush cock in his hand. “I don’t think I’ll live after you kill me with that anyways.”
Deku laughs just a bit, his dimples flashing as he leans in and kisses you deeply. You tremble underneath him, feeling so small pressed up against him, and you mewl when you feel the head of his cock pressing between your folds.
“Put it in,” you gasp, leg lifting and wrapping around his waist, “put it in! I want you to fuck me until I can’t walk, do you understand?!”
Deku nods, and with a sense of frantic need, his hand guides his cock into you.
It feels like you’re splitting in half. The girth of his cock stretching your walls out to the max, and he’s only going in. You scream loudly, both in pain and pleasure because it hurts so good.
“Take it, baby, take me all in,” Deku pants, his hips pushing out small, tiny thrusts to ram his cock further and further into your twitching cunt. “That’s i-it, holy fuck, that’s it! You’re taking me all the way in. F-Fuck… you’re so amazing! So fucking perfect!”
Tears are pouring out of your eyes, and your nails are tearing into his back, you sob slightly overwhelmed with his cock and the absolute pleasure of finally getting what you want and it being so much better than you thought. Your cunt throbs almost violently as Deku’s cock finally hits your cervix and your eyes roll to the back of your head as he thrusts in further, lips attempting to claim yours. 
“Fuck me, Deku,” you beg, hips beginning to slam and fuck up onto his cock. “Please! I need you!”
“Such a desperate little villain though,” Deku sighs, teasingly, giving you one strong thrust for good measure. It goes a long way though, the power behind his thrust and thighs promising you a bruised ass, thighs, and cunt makes your mouth water for more. “I need you to promise to never do anything like that again and be a good little manager for Kacchan.”
“W-Wha–”
“Be good and stop being Mirage, or else you won’t be fucked.”
There was no hesitation.
“Okay.”
And just like that, Deku’s soft smile curves into a knowing, fierce smirk, and you can do nothing as his hands press to the back of your knees and he begins thrusting his hips into you. And it takes you completely out of control. 
It’s a messy, frantic dance, your body holding onto his, your lips pressing against his, desperate and needy for his, and he is basically trying to imprint his body onto yours, the concrete, and the walls. Your bodies are so foreign to each other, and yet, when he fucks into you just a bit hard, just a bit faster, you come undone, back arching and toes curling as you sob his name.
It’s overwhelming to know that he can read you this well and for you to have never fucked him before. It’s empowering to see that he likes every forced and involuntary squeeze and clench of your cunt. He loved when your nails dug into his skin, raking their existence against the plane of broad muscles and scars. 
Deku curses your name as you clench around him, his hands moving to your jaw so that he can lift your face to kiss him just so. He kisses you with a heated passion, a need that strips your entire being bare, and his hips slam so loudly against you, the slicked wetness is squelching and slapping with every grunt and moan.
In and out his cock goes, and you praise him and his cock.
You praise him for making you feel so good, for stretching out your pussy with that fat cock of his. You beg for more, and more, and more. You want every snap of his hips to send new colors to your vision, and every echoing squelch of your meeting, sloppy sexes only adds to the blabbering, unmanaged sentences from your lips. 
“Harder, faster, more!” you beg, practically wailing against his shoulders, needing him more and more. The concrete hurts against your back, but you don’t care. You don’t care if he breaks your back, it’s a fall you’ll take. “Don’t hold back! Don’t you dare hold back!”
“Fuck, you’re crazy,” Deku gasps, his sweaty brow burying into your cheek. “I won’t though, I won't. Be ready, I’m not sure if you can take it.”
Before you can snap back that you can in fact take it, Deku’s weight falls heavier onto you and the angle shifts just slightly, and your words are ripped right out of your throat for a pitched, window shattering screech. Deku fucks into you with a new power, some untapped strength as greenspark falls from his skin as he ruins you for anyone ever again.
Your voice begins to scream out, the feeling of his vicious, thick cock snapping into you, shoving your shoulders further and further into the concrete was sending your head spinning. Your body is convulsing as he fucks you with new vulgar need and strength. But before you could scream your praises, Deku’s fingers shove into your mouth, and his other hand wraps around your neck, silencing your words and noises as he fucks up into you again and again and again.
“So loud, angel,” Deku smirks, fingers stroking and pinching your tongue as saliva pours endlessly from your mouth. His voice isn’t strained however, doesn’t have any indication that he’s out of breath or ready to tap out and that nearly makes you go insane. “I can’t wait to see everything that makes you look like this… you’re so pretty when you’re getting fucked.”
Your head is spinning, the heated tightness in your core clenching and throbbing as his conquesting cock never once stops or lessens. It just grows and grows and grows. His cock twitches in you, and your eyes roll to the back of your head as he lets out a deep moan. 
“Such a good and wet cunt you are,” Deku gasps as you gag against his fingers that press roughly against the back of your tongue. Your vision feels hazy, but you feel like you’re on cloud nine as his hand on your throat opens and closes, demonstrating his power over you. “I’m so glad you went through all this hard work to get me to fuck you.”
You can’t speak, so you nod desperately, you were so happy you did this too. 
Your hips buck up into him with sheer stubborn drive to get him to toss his head back and moan, you wanted to see him unhinged too. Your eyelashes flutter, as his hands remove themselves from your face, and they move to your hips to help you out. But the building tightness and demanding need in your cunt was growing louder, hotter, completely undeniable. Your teeth sinking against his skin as you whimpered loudly, absolutely pathetically as you shifted faster, fucking against him harder.
“I-I’m so close,” you manage to moan out, and a sharp escape of air comes from his nose at that revelation.
Deku nods, his head moving so that his forehead rests against yours as he looks deep into your eyes. “I need you to look at the way your belly bulges while I fuck you before you cum, I want you to watch it bulge as you cum.”
You whimper, the strain in your neck almost insufferable as you peer down at your hastily exposed stomach, and you nearly faint at the pornographic, near-insane image of your stomach bulging with his hammering monster of a cock. And just like that, the tight heat in you snaps without a hitch, and you come tumbling down from the heights of your building orgasm. White heat and light spread through your body, your jaw slacking as you moan loudly, screaming his name as you convulse against him, body entirely limp. Deku, who was barely hanging by a strand, completely loses it when your core clenches like a vice against him. 
Hot, thick ropes of cum spurt from his cock, his heavy, shaking gasps the only thing you can hear as he fucks into you once, twice more for good measure he collapses onto his forearms above you. It’s hot, almost too hot as he lays on top of you, the sticky fluid of his cum radiating against your already blazing walls, and for a bit, there’s silence.
Deku is the first to move afterward, and you whine as he pulls his cock out of your sore, abused pussy. You make a noise of curiosity then fear as Deku spreads your legs even more open and moves so that his head is face to face with your cum filled pussy.
“What are you–?!” you screech as Deku takes a lick out of your dripping cunt.
“Fuck, this does taste good,” Deku smirks as he once again licks your overstimulated pussy and you sob. “Besides, who said we were done?”
.
.
.
.
.
bonus! 
“Everyone, this is my girlfriend y/l/n y/n!” Izuku happily introduced you to his group of friends.
“What the hell?!” Bakugou screamed, thrusting a finger at you and all you did was laugh.
So much for not being stubborn, huh.
863 notes · View notes
hangezoeenthusiast · 3 years
Text
You failed me
multiple x gn!reader
word count: 2,524
warnings: cursing, yelling, arguing, death, angst, blood, explosion, the egg (it deserves its own warning)
synopis: you guys failed me(us)
(the lyrics go with each person, might not get everyone, and also xd’s part is kinda wonky)
song: rät by penelope scott
I come from scientists and atheists and white men who kill God They make technology, high quality, complex physiological Experiments and sacrilege in the name of public good They taught me everything, just like a daddy should
Quackity, Karl, George, and Sapnap left you. Your mentors, your friends. The ones who taught you everything you knew. They went to build their little “Kinoko Kingdom” while you stayed in the ruins, the dust. “They’ll regret that.” you swore. You built something better, something greater.
It was called “Las Nevadas”. A place where everyone was allowed. They would remember not to fuck with you. They would soon realize that they should watch their back for the rest of their short, stupid lives.
“Watch out, you guys, I'm watching your every move.”
And you were beautiful and vulnerable and power and success God damn, I fell for you, your flamethrowers, your tunnels, and your tech I studied code because I wanted to do something great like you And the real tragеdy is half of it was true
Wilbur majorly fucked up. He was supposed to be with you to the end, your guys’ country, right? No. He left you behind. He went to find peace, find his heaven, while you stayed on earth, wallowing away until your flesh seeped off your rattling bones, rotting away by yourself, with no one to bare witness.
“Why didn’t you bring me with you Wilbur?” you asked his stupid grave on top of the once L’Manburg. “Why did you get the ecstasy, why do I get the remains?”
“I’m coming for you Wilbur, and when I do, we are going to wreck upon justice on everyone who wronged us, wronged you, they will feel our wrath.”
But we've been fuckin' mеan, we're elitist, we're as flawed as any church And this faux-rad West coast dogma has a higher fuckin' net worth I bit the apple 'cause I trusted you, it tastes like Thomas Malthus Your proposal is immodest and insane And I hope someday Selmers rides her fuckin' train
"Y/n!" Technoblade yelled. "I TRUSTED YOU, AND YOU BETRAYED ME, FOR WHAT, TO BLOW UP A STUPID COUNTRY, A COUNTRY THAT WAS DOOMED TO FAIL FROM THE START." He started to battle you, missing every single swing, blinded by fury.
“YOU WERE SUPPOSED TO BE ON MY SIDE.”
"LOOK AT ME GODDAMN IT."
You looked up at him in the eyes and boldly said, "No, Techno, don’t you see, you’re in the wrong here, you’re the one who betrayed me." You were blinded by friendship, you couldn’t see that Tommy had betrayed Techno, and that what the Butcher Army did to Techno was terrible.
"What do you mean Y/n, you know what they did, they wronged me, they used me, they tortured me, they gave me hell, so I gave it back to them, I destroyed the things they loved, the people they loved, you see Y/n, those who have treated me with kindness I will repay that kindness tenfold, and those who treat me with injustice, that use me, that hunt me down, that hurt my friends, I shall repay that injustice a thousand times over, do you understand?"
"No I don't, Techno, you can't do this.” you begged. He pushed you out of the way, "Get out of my way Y/n." “No, I won’t, I won’t let you destroy everything we worked for.”
“Well, then I have to fight you.”
And thus the battle began, Swords clashing against each other, blood spilling from open wounds, friends digging each other into a whole both of them couldn’t get out of. Techno was letting you off easy, he knew his strength, he knew that he could’ve beaten you in one swipe, but he didn’t want to kill you.
So when you had the opportunity, you swept from under his feet, and knocked him down. You placed your blade onto his neck, pressing down until a little drop of blood appeared, “Stay down Technoblade, or I’ll do something worse than try to put you on trial.”
He watched as you walked away from him, trying to save L’Manberg from a worst fate than death itself.
“One day Y/n, you’ll see, I’m on your side.”
I loved you, I loved you, I loved you, it's true I wanted to be you and do what you do I lived here, I loved here, I bought it, it's true I feel so stupid, and so used I feel so used
"Why would you do that Dream? You didn't have to do that." you interrogated. Dream had stupidly blew up the community house. You both didn't plan that, he had gone behind your back. "I had to Y/n, you wouldn't understand."
"What do you mean I don't understand, you went against my back, we were supposed to-" you cut off yourself, "Dream, don't you understand, you did something stupid, and what did you get, you got stupid jail." "The reason I did that is because I needed to isolate myself from humanity." he said, proudness lacing his words.
"What do you mean?" you questioned. "If anyone knows I can revive people, I'm screwed, so that's why I need to be by myself, yeah it sucks major ass, but at least no one else will know, well, besides you anyways." "I have a task for you Y/n/n, I need you to find a way to bring Tommy and Ghostbur in here."
"Why Dream?"
"I'm going to revive Wilbur."
I was your baby, your firstborn, the hot girl in your comp-sci class And I was Darwin's prep school dream, bred, born and raised to kick your ass I fell for circuit boards, rocket ships, pictures of the stars If you could only be what you pretend you are
"PHILZA MINECRAFT COME BACK HERE." you were chasing Phil, through the woody forest, covered by oak trees. He had information on Technoblade's whereabouts and you needed it. You chased him with your enchanted netherite armor, netherite sword and axe, and a few op potions. Your goal was to capture Philza and interrogate him on where Techno's place was. The thing was, you were his child. His own child trying to kill his own son.
He felt betrayed, his own child turned against him and their brother, their family. "The Butcher Army must've gotten to you somehow." he thought in his head. Surely, his darling Y/n didn't do it on their own will, right?
He was incorrect, you did it because you believed that Techno needed to be brought to justice, by punishment. You believed that your own sibling needed to die, because he was a "liability" to L'Manberg's growth and future. He needed to die because as long as he would live his long life with his little enderman Edward, retired, he would still cause trouble to everything you, Quackity, Tubbo, Fundy, and Ranboo had built.
He pleaded, "Stop Y/n, you don't have to do this." You argued, "I do Philza, as long as he lives, my plans for L'Manberg will forever cease to exist."
He felt like shit, you called him Philza, not Dadza, or Dad, or anything besides his normal name. "Did I screw something up?" he asked himself quietly under his breath. "Yes you did Phil, you took the traitor's side." you had heard Phil mumble.
"HE'S NOT A TRAITOR." Phil yelled at you. "Yes he is, he deserves what he is about to get, I will say it again, where is his base?"
"I'm not saying, Y/n, why are you doing this, Techno is your own sibling." "He's not my sibling anymore, that stopped when he destroyed L'Manberg, you're lucky I forgived you." you declared.
"Y/n/n, please don't do this."
"I have to Dadza, I can't let him roam free."
When I said take me to the moon, I never meant take me alone I thought if mankind toured the sky, it meant that all of us could go But I don't want to see the stars if they're just one more piece of land For us to colonize, for us to turn to sand
Bad had tried to convice you to join the Eggpire. You had no effect while being next to the egg, and he had to take you out. People who had no effect towards the egg had to be eliminated.
He was creepily following you, waiting until you stopped to get a chance to capture you. He had hope that you did have an effect, that you would join the Egg with him. He didn't want to kill you, you were his best friend, besides Skeppy of course.
"Come back here Y/n." he said. "No chance in hell Bad, get the fuck away from me." "HEY, LANGUAGE!" he exclaimed. "No language, get away from me, you're creeping me out."
He threw his trident, spinning in the air, trying to catch up to your frantic steps. You were trying to get to Church Prime, where no one could kill anyone, hopefully Bad would abide to that rule. You were just about to step on Church Prime when you bumped into a hard, armored chest.
You looked up shyly, and saw Punz, with his red eyes reflecting anger. "Where are you going Y/n?" he questioned. "Somewhere." you blankly stated. You were desperate, you didn't want to die, or anything else that Bad was going to do to you. You tried to dodge Punz, but he placed a hand on your shoulder, "Stay right here Y/n."
"No, get away from me, I don't know what's wrong with all of you, but go away, I don't want anything to do with your stupid Eggpire." He raged, and grabbed your wrist heavily, "DON'T TALK ABOUT THE EGG LIKE THAT, IT WILL TAKE CONTROL OF THE SERVER, AND YOU ALL WILL BE ITS SERVANTS." "LET ME THE FUCK GO PUNZ." you screamed. You were wiggling in his grip, trying to escape his lunatic self.
While he was holding you, you saw two other shadows behind you. It was Antfrost and Bad. "What do you guys want from me, I didn't do anything wrong."
"You are against the Egg Y/n, people who are like you and Tommy have to die."
"Well, I'm not dying today." you murmured under your breath. "What was that you said?" Antfrost asked you.
You smirked, "I'm not dying today, I'll tell you one more time, let go of me."
Bad and Antfrost walked closer to you, Punz right behind you, all of them cornering you into a tight spot. "What you going to do about it Y/n, you're cornered."
"You'll know when they get here, but for now, you better run boys."
'Cause we're so fuckin' mean, we're so elitist, we're as fucked as any church And this bullshit West coast dogma has a higher fuckin' net worth I bit the apple 'cause I loved you, and why would you lie? And then I realized that you're just as naïve as I am Oh, you're so traumatized it makes me want to cry
"Tubbo, don't do this." Schlatt had unfortunately found out that you were a spy, that you were on Pogtopia's side. He had ordered Tubbo to kill you with fireworks, to light you on fire, give you blisters all over your body. "Please Tubbs, you're my friend." you pleaded.
"I can't Y/n/n, or something worse will happen." he whispered to you. "What do you mean?" you asked. "He can-" he trailed off, looking somewhere else besides your eyes. "Tubbo, you don't have to do what that stupid bastard tells you to do, you're your own person, with your own thoughts and actions."
"I'm sorry Y/n, I hope you can forgive me."
"TUBBO N-" you was cut off by firewords hitting your skin, making blisters and burn marks all over your body. You lost your second canon life, feeling betrayed by Tubbo. He killed you for what, a stupid father who never cared about him in his entire life, a father who exiled his friends that actually treated him like a person, and not like some random piece of trash.
You respawned in your bed, feeling bruises and bumps mostly on your forearms and your back.
"I'll help you Tubbo, I’ll get rid of him.”
You dumb bitch I loved you, I loved you, I loved you, it's true I wanted to be you and do what you do I lived here, I loved here, I bought it, it's true I'm so embarrassed, I feel abused
“Come on Y/n/n, come with me.” Punz begged of you. He wanted you to visit the Egg. You didn’t want to be controlled by a stupid omelette. "I'm not Punzo, why are you so obsessed with that stupid thing."
"DON'T SPEAK OF THE EGG LIKE THAT."
You put your hands in front of you, accidentally touching Punz's chest, "Ok calm down buddy." He didn't calm down and instead yelled at you on why you had to join the Eggpire.
"If you join, you will be forever happy."
"If you join you'll get whatever you want."
You were tired of the members of the Eggpire to convince you to join them, you didn't like eggs anyway. "Punz, for the last time, I'm not joining you, stop telling me."
“Then you have to die.”
So fuck your tunnels, fuck your cars, fuck your rockets, fuck your cars again You promised you'd be Tesla, but you're just another Edison 'Cause Tesla broke a patent, all you ever broke were hearts I can't believe you tore humanity apart
“XD!” You were pissed at him, he had destroyed your house, made your friends pissed at you, just everything you liked. All because he wanted you for himself.
He wanted you to be dependent on his every word, and he was being a manipulative psychopath. And you didn’t tolerate that, it was like he was his human counterpart, Dream.
He walked to you with confidence, waiting for to get a hug from you, well, he didn’t get that. You slapped him so hard his head swung to the left.
“WHAT THE FUCK.”
“That’s what you get you stupid son of a bitch. You fucking ruined everything.” “Calm down Y/n/n, what is wrong?” He acted concerned, but you knew that he was faking. He would do anything to get someone’s approval.
“DO YOU WANNA KNOW WHAT’S WRONG, IT’S YOU, YOUR STUPID PRESENCE IN MY LIFE. YOU KEEP ON WALKING AROUND LIKE YOU FUCKING OWN THE PLACE.”
“Calm down darling, just take some netheri-” you interrupted him by slapping the ore out of his hands. “I don’t need jack shit from you XD, you know what, take back the necklace, I don’t want it.” You pulled the shiny, green emerald necklace off your neck, and pulled XD’s palm out.
You placed the necklace filled with memories, and put it on his hand. You closed up his palm, and walked away, leaving XD to his own accord.
“We could’ve had evertything X.”
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mrsalwayswrite · 3 years
Text
Hvítr gown, nýr life (Ubbe x Reader)
This is my contribution to @geekandbooknerd​ 2k followers challenge! Congrats again, my dear! 
My prompt was: "People aren't born good or bad. Maybe they're born with tendencies either way, but it's the way you live your life that matters." - Cassandra Clare, City of Glass. 
Couple notes for this fic- Bjorn & Torvi are still together because reasons. Italics mean speakers are using Old Norse. 
The title means ‘White Gown, New Life’ in Old Norse. 
Also, this is my first time writing Ubbe so.... hopefully its not OOC?
Words: 4800
Warnings: one or two swear words. implied sex. I think that’s it???
Tag List: @youbloodymadgenius​
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"You cannot truly be considering this!" Bjorn thundered in the small, enclosed room. 
 Ubbe observed his elder brother- a man he had aspired to be like his whole childhood, a man he still looked up too, regardless of his faults. "Of course I am."
 Bjorn slammed his hand on the wooden table, making it shake, as his voice shook like thunder in the room. "You are throwing your future away!"
 "I am protecting our future!" Ubbe snapped, finally rising to his feet, irritation leaking into his tone. He met Bjorn's incensed blue eyes with his own resolute gaze. "We need allies, alliances, everything to make father's dream come true. If this is the price I must pay to fulfill Ragnar's dream, then I will gladly do it. It is not about me. It's for our people."
 After a long, tense moment, Lagertha pushed off the wall she and Torvi were leaning against. Gliding closer, she moved to stand in front of Ubbe, tears swimming in her eyes. Gently, she cupped his cheeks. "Your father would be so proud of you, Ubbe. I pray the gods bless you with happiness in this."
 "Thank you, Lagertha." Relief swelled in Ubbe's chest. If he had Lagertha's support, he knew Bjorn would come around. 
 Since they fled Kattegat and came to England, he had watched the shieldmaiden age before his eyes. He could not help but wonder if her soul yearned for Valhalla and to be reunited with Ragnar. Not that he could blame her. To hear her speak of Ragnar and his approval of Ubbe's actions, it only further solidified his choice. 
 Torvi spoke up, surprising him.  "I think Ubbe should do it." When Bjorn opened his mouth to interject, she snapped her gaze over to her husband. "This is his decision, Ubbe. He has asked for our advice but it is up to him. We need security and this, though we don't trust them, this can provide that security."
 Bjorn huffed, crossing his arms over his chest. "Fine! Do what you want!" 
 "Thank you." Ubbe softly said, looking at all the family he had left in this world. "I'll go inform King Alfred now." 
 With a firm stride, he left the quarters they had been given in Wessex. After some time trying to locate the young king, a passing servant was able to tell him Alfred's location. Thankfully the king was in his private study, reviewing petitions from the worker's guild. The guards at the door allowed Ubbe entrance only after the king called out to allow him entrance. With a look of unrestrained animosity, almost begging him to give them a reason to throw him out, the guards opened the door for him to pass. Ubbe nodded his thanks, but never removed his hand from the sword at his side until the door closed behind him. 
 Straightening in his chair, Alfred looked up from the papers spread out over his desk. "Good afternoon, Ubbe. I suspect you have sought me out because you have an answer for my proposition."
 "I do, your highness." Ubbe paused, knowing how his life was going to irrevocably change once he answered. "And I will accept. I will take a Saxon wife to further the alliance between us."
 "I am greatly pleased by your decision." The dark-haired man pushed away from his desk. He moved to a nearby table to pour them both a cup of wine, something these Saxons seemed to favor, as he continued speaking. "Alliances must be built on trust and understanding. A political marriage certainly helps solidify that trust."
 Ubbe received the cup, missing the taste of ale from his homeland. After taking a small sip, he stared at Alfred. "So what do we do now? Do I meet some potentials or is there a matchmaker?"
 "No, I already have someone picked out for you. My cousin." Alfred answered without hesitation before pausing in contemplation. "What your father and my grandfather would think of this arrangement….our families tied by blood."
 "Yeah…. What is her name?"
 "My cousin? Lady Y/N. Fear not, she comes from a well-respected family and with a substantial dowry. She has spent most of her life at a nunnery, so there is no fear of her virtue being tainted."
 "Great." Ubbe sighed out. Though he knew Alfred meant all that to be reassuring….it felt anything but. 
 *****
 It was not until almost a month later, Ubbe met his intended bride; with the wedding set for three days after her arrival. Apparently King Alfred and some of the Saxon noblemen were keen on the arranged marriage happening as soon as possible. 
 Ubbe stood off to the side in the throne room. With his hair freshly braided and pulled back and wearing one of his nicer tunics, he hoped he appeared princely. Even if by Saxon standards, he knew he fell woefully short. Lagertha had given him a nod of approval as they waited in the throne room. Though outwardly he kept his face passive and calm, his insides twisted into knots and his hands were clammy. 
 "Are you still certain about this, brother?" Bjorn clapped Ubbe on the shoulder as he whispered, eyeing the Saxons standing around. 
 The flaxen-haired Viking glanced over at King Alfred, who sat on his throne, talking in hushed tones to one of his advisors while his mother looked on with a sour expression. 
 Ubbe answered solemnly. "Aye, we need this alliance."
 With a grunt, Bjorn removed his hand but stayed at his brother's side. Something Ubbe appreciated. Although Bjorn had no issue airing his thoughts on this foolish alliance and how Ubbe was making a mistake in regards to choosing a wife again, he kept his complaints behind closed doors. In front of the Saxons, they presented an united front. 
 The large doors to the throne room opened with a groan. All eyes turned to witness as a sole figure cautiously yet gracefully walked forward, head held high and hands clasped in front of her. 
 "Cousin!" King Alfred exclaimed, rising from his throne, arms spread wide. Immediately, he descended the few stairs with a fond smile on his face. "Your presence has been missed here at court."
 The woman dipped into an elegant curtsey, her dress gliding around her like water. "You are far too kind, my king."
 As King Alfred embraced his cousin in a warm hug, Ubbe could only stare in shock. Standing there in a deep red gown, the woman looked like a goddess. Ubbe had prepared himself mentally for his intended bride to be marginally pretty like most of these Saxon women, but someone he easily overlooked. Not her though. Without even saying a word to him, he felt beguiled by her. It was more than just her physical beauty, it was in the way she carried herself, with grace and a nobility. It reminded him distantly of his mother. A woman who knew her place and dignity. This woman, his intended bride, was truly stunning. He could not help but wonder if the true reason for her prolonged residence at a nunnery was not because of piety but to preserve and protect her. Something he was suddenly immensely grateful for. 
 "This is your betrothed." Alfred walked her over to where the Vikings stood, at the bottom of the steps leading to his throne. With a pleased smile on his face, he introduced the two. "Ubbe, son of Ragnar Lothbrok, this is my cousin, Lady Y/N." 
 She curtsied to him, her movements so graceful like they were part of a dance. When she spoke, he was further enchanted, for even her voice was beautiful. "It's a pleasure to meet you, Lord Ubbe."
 "It's just Ubbe. Since we are to be married, we can skip the formalities."
 A coy smile played on her lips. "As you wish….Ubbe."
 "Excellent." King Alfred beamed. "Perhaps a walk in the gardens to better acquaint yourselves would be desirable?"
 Before Ubbe could whole-heartedly agree, wishing to learn more about his intended bride, a sickly-sweet voice interrupted. 
 "Y/N has only just arrived. We have wedding plans to finalize and she must try on her dress." Princess Judith interrupted, wrapping an arm through her niece's while pointedly ignoring the Vikings. "Maybe another time, but I am sure y/n will be quite busy with preparations. Come, my dear."
 With that, she swept her niece out of the throne room as if the Vikings had the plague and she refused to breathe the same air as them. But before y/n disappeared, she peeked over her shoulder and met Ubbe's gaze with a tender smile teasing her lips, then disappeared from view. 
 "There is much to finalize and my mother wants to ensure the wedding will go smoothly. You and y/n will have time after the wedding to become acquainted." Alfred said, studying the direction his mother and cousin vanished. With a sigh, he pulled his gaze back to Ubbe. "Now that introductions are made, I have matters with the clergy to attend to."
 Ubbe barely paid attention when Alfred walked away, returning to his throne and listening to some priests whine about something petty. 
 A bump of a shoulder against his own drew Ubbe's attention back from thinking about y/n. 
 Bjorn leaned over to whisper conspiracingly in his ear. "Well, at least you won't have a problem bedding her." 
 *****
 The wedding ceremony was outlandish and dragged on for entirely too long. Between the many prayers of the priests and the rigid formality of everything, Ubbe was ready to draw his sword and spill some Christian blood, just to break up the monotony. Even Lagertha appeared ready to fall asleep from where she stood. 
 The only aspect that kept his attention was his bride. Watching her walk down the aisle, he almost swallowed his tongue, leaving him gaping at her in a slack-jawed awe as she slowly approached. In her flowing wedding dress, a crown of flowers in her hair and eyes alight, she appeared ethereal. Standing in his nicest tunic and pants, he knew he paled in comparison to her, but he did not mind. 
 When the priests tried to forcefully convince Ubbe to dress in Saxon clothing for the wedding, he not-so-subtly threatened to decapitate them if they mentioned it once more. He was a Viking and would dress as such. Besides this was to be a physical representation of an alliance between Saxon and Viking, it would make no sense for him to dress as a Saxon. 
 Thankfully Alfred agreed with his thoughts, so the clergy kept any further comments to themselves. 
 Once the wedding concluded with Ubbe and y/n proclaimed man and wife, the couple was escorted to the celebration. The following feast was beyond lavish, with drink and food in overflowing abundance. To his dismay, Ubbe found himself unable to converse with his new bride. Either Alfred was introducing him to someone new, some nobleman pestered him with questions or worst of all, Judith purposefully continued to make excuses that pulled y/n away. When their eyes met, he could see the apology in them, which lightened the stone in his heart. 
 As the feast progressed, Ubbe found as more time passed, the more his gaze drifted to his bride. The gods had truly blessed him with this marriage. Watching her, he was captivated. Although, he found his hand frequently shifting to reach for the hilt of his sword no longer strapped to his side. All the appreciative or lustful looks she received from other men did not go unnoticed, and if one of them tried to lay a hand on his new wife, he would not be held accountable for his actions. His fists could be just as deadly as any weapon.
 Finally, the time was called for the bedding ceremony. 
 Alfred and some of the clergy explained to Ubbe what happened during a bedding ceremony when he was learning about the wedding's customs and the vows he would have to recite. To say the Ragnarsson was shocked was an understatement. It sounded barbaric…. and him and his people were called the heathens. But he understood the need to maintain protocol for building the alliance and the trust of the Saxons. 
 So that was how he found himself walking down a corridor with Bjorn at his side, while the feast and celebrations continued on without him. 
 "Are you sure about this?" 
 Ubbe rolled his eyes at his elder brother, his stride never faltering. "You did not have to agree to it."
 Bjorn scoffed, keeping pace. "And miss out on all the fun?"
 The two brothers laughed, the sound loosening some of the tension in the bridegroom's body. When Alfred told Ubbe he needed a witness to represent his people at the bedding ceremony, Bjorn was the only option. When Ubbe initially told his brother about the tradition and asked for Bjorn's presence, the hulking Viking had doubled-over in laughter, followed by making several crude comments about the need to instruct Ubbe on how to properly bed a woman. The discussion ended in a brotherly tussel but Bjorn agreed. 
 Especially when Ubbe explained his plan. 
 The bedroom was in the wing of the royal families' rooms. Since y/n was related by blood, she was given a room there whenever she came to visit and naturally, this meant it was where the marriage would be consummated. Several candles were lit but the bedroom was kept dim to give an illusion of privacy. A quick glance at the bed made Ubbe raise an eyebrow at the generous size and the curtains draped around it. A fire burned in the fireplace providing warmth in the bedroom, a sharp contrast to the stern, cold faces of the clergy who waited. 
 The bishop who married them stood off to the side with two other clergy, all in their robes and barely suppressed looks of disgust on the priests' faces. Two female attendees fussed over y/n, clearly everyone waiting for Ubbe and Bjorn. Once again, Ubbe had to force himself to keep his eyes from staying glued to his new wife. She stood there in a thick robe, with her hair falling about her shoulders loosely, free from the bridal veil. Her gaze jumped from Ubbe to the clergy and back as she nibbled on her bottom lip, clearly nervous about what was to occur next. Cheekily, he sent her a quick wink, hoping that would help settle her nerves. If the blush that grew on her cheeks said anything, at least she was not repulsed by him. 
 The bishop stepped forward. "Are you prepared to consummate your marriage to Lady Y/N before God and man?"
 "I am." Ubbe defiantly met the man's eyes. 
 "Then by the power given to me by the Holy Church, let the two become one in the sight of God and these witnesses and the marriage shall be complete." With that, the man drew their strange cross sign in the air and stepped back to rejoin his fellow clergy. 
 The two attendees helped y/n out of her heavy robe, revealing a thin, white nightgown that seemed to only enhance her beauty and innocence. Desire thrummed in his blood at the sight of her, but Ubbe ignored the sensation for the moment. The heavy robe was laid on a nearby chair and the two women left the room with a quick curtsy, leaving only the men and y/n. 
 After a shared look with Bjorn, Ubbe walked over to his new bride, keeping his movements slow so as to not startle her. Her hands were clasped before her, but even as he approached, he could see the faint tremble in them. Her gaze never strayed from the floor. The confidence seen previously in her seemed to have melted away into anxiety, making him think of a skittish colt. He could not help but wonder what changed, if it was due to him or what was supposed to occur between them. 
 Standing before her, he gently reached out to take her soft hands in his own larger, calloused ones, pleased when she did not flinch at his touch. Although her gaze remained downward. 
 "Are you alright?" He whispered, aware of the four pairs of eyes watching their every move. 
 "Of….of course, my lord husband."
 "Remember, I told you to call me by my name."
 That caused her head to snap up and meet his gaze. Now he could see the tears welling up in her eyes and her swollen bottom lip from constantly worrying it. 
 "It'll be alright." He tugged her bottom lip from between her teeth. The way her breath hitched at the intimate touch made his heart pound. He gave her hands in his, a quick squeeze. "Trust me, yeah?"
 After a moment, she gave a faint nod, still eyeing him warily but appearing less like she wanted to flee, mutely squeezing his hands back.
 A voice broke the stillness in the room, immediately causing her to tense again. 
 "The two of you must proceed to the bed to finalize the union. We do not have all night to wait for confirmation of her virginity and consummation." One of the priests drawled with an apparent undertone of disdain. 
 "Then it is a good thing you don't have to wait any longer." Ubbe retorted, narrowing his eyes at the priest. The man huffed but a quiet rebuke from the bishop had the priest pressing his lips together. With one final, assessing scan, the flaxen-haired Viking shifted, pulling his new bride into his side and wrapping an arm around her waist. He felt her tense against him but ignored it to stare at the three clergy with a mocking smirk. "Bjorn."
 At the sound of his name, his brother moved from leaning against the doorframe. A scowl on his face, and with the shadows cast over him, made him appear more looming and menacing. "Everybody out."
 The three clergy looked back and forth between the two Viking brothers, clearly confused and intimidated. 
 "You can't….we must witness…."
 "I SAID EVERYBODY OUT!" Bjorn roared, pulling the axe from his side and waving it in the air. "OR DO I NEED TO SPLIT YOUR SKULL TO HELP MY WORDS REACH YOUR TINY BRAINS?!"
 The three scrambled, eyes wide in terror, tripping over their long robes in a pathetic attempt to reach the door faster. The bishop turned around, hands grasping the golden cross hanging from his neck. "King….King Alfred will hear of this." He stuttered out in feigned confidence. 
 A deafening war cry from Bjorn practically shook the room in answer. That was enough to silence the bishop and have him flee, following his companions.
 At Bjorn's roar, y/n began shaking like a leaf, her hands tightly holding onto Ubbe's arm wrapped around her. He further pulled her against him, providing shelter from his brother's fury. Even as the room fell back into silence, he could still feel her trembling in his arms. He prayed to the gods that this did not darken her view of him and cause her to fear him. 
 Once the room cleared and the pounding footfalls of the clergy could no longer be heard, Bjorn turned around with a grin, scratching the back of his neck with his axe. "You know Alfred will be upset when he finds out." 
 Ubbe smirked. "We can't let him have everything he wants, yeah?"
 That made Bjorn chuckle. "I'll go guard the door." He pointed his axe at Ubbe, still grinning. "You owe me for this."
 "Scaring priests shitless isn't enough for you?"
 Bjorn scoffed. "I can do that whenever I like."
 "We'll name our firstborn after you."
 Bjorn waved him off, opening the wooden door and stepping out. When the door closed, the echoing sound seemed to fill the empty space in the room. 
 Ubbe peeked down at the woman in his arms. "Are you alright?"
 "Your brother….is….frightening."
 "Aye, don't tell him that though. It would only inflate his ego more."
 Once he was certain she was steady on her feet and would not faint, he pressed a chaste kiss to the side of her head before striding away to the other side of the bedroom. Quickly he pulled off his tunic and boots, tossing them onto a nearby chair and then flopped onto the massive bed in only his pants. If nothing else could be said for tonight, he knew he would sleep well. The bed was comfortable, even rivaling his own bed back in Kattegat. With a pleased groan, he tucked an arm under his head and settled under the covers. A wave of exhaustion crashed over him, his eyelids sliding closed.  Even though he felt like he spent most of the day standing around and kneeling for the wedding, it was still tedious and draining. Thank the gods it was over. 
 "Um, my lord…." 
 "Ubbe." He interrupted, lips twitching in amusement. "Or husband. Whichever you prefer."
 "Ah, Ubbe….are we not….?" Her hesitant voice trailed off, but the unspoken question lingered in the air. 
 He snorted. "I have no plans to force myself upon you just to appease your priests and bishop."
 "But we must consummate the marriage."
 "I will only have sex with you if you desire me as your husband and not just to fulfill an obligation."
 The following, prolonged silence caused him to open his eyes and look over at his new wife. It was apparent she had not moved from where he left her. He expected to see fear on her lovely face or revulsion at the idea of her ever willingly wanting him to touch her. Instead, she seemed to be studying him with a mixture of curiosity and respect. That confident woman he had previously met, making a reappearance. 
 After holding her gaze for a moment, he patted the bed next to him. "Come lay down. I doubt standing there all night will be pleasant."
 With a soft smile, she stepped over and crawled under the covers, but maintained an arm’s length distance between them. They both laid on their backs, together yet alone. The only sounds were of the crackling fire and their breathing. 
 Before he realized it, Ubbe found himself speaking, filling the silence with his babbling but strangely felt he needed to share these thoughts with the woman beside him, the woman whose life was now tied to him, whether she wanted it to be or not. 
 "I doubt this is the marriage you were dreaming of as a little girl. Probably expected some prince or lord….not a Viking. Your people only see us as heathens, as barbaric devils, at least that's what one of the noblemen said. That we cannot stop the evil and destruction we cause because we are possessed." He snorted, rubbing a hand down his face. After a deep breath, he turned his head to look at her, amazed to find her already watching him. His tone softened as he continued. "I'm sorry you were forced into this marriage. I know it might not mean much to you but I vow I won't ever physically harm you or force myself upon you. After all the wedding ceremonies, you can return to the nunnery if that is what you want."
 Her eyes widened momentarily, then drifted away as she worried her lip once again. As he waited for her to speak, his gaze traveled over her face, taking in the small details that until now he had not been able to observe. It would be a blatant lie to say he did not desire to lie with her, to touch and taste her. The current state of his manhood was evidence enough of how simply gazing at her beauty affected him. He made a vow to her. If nothing else, he hoped they could be friendly to one another. 
 To his shock, she rolled onto her side, facing him completely, hands tucked under her cheek. Without hesitation, he mirrored her action, but kept his head cradled on his arm. 
 "I have not traveled much," she quietly said, almost shyly, "but there is one thing I've learned through my studies and the observation of others. People aren't born good or bad. Maybe they're born with tendencies either way, but it's the way you live your life that matters." She paused as if choosing her next words carefully. "I do not think you are a barbaric devil or….or possessed. I think…."
 "What?"
 "I think you are very brave and strong. Not many would seek an alliance with those that fervently claim them as an enemy….nor be kind to a simple noblewoman."
 He smirked, finding himself charmed by her honesty. Carefully, he reached over and brushed a thumb over her cheek. "You are no simple noblewoman, my lady."
 "If you are just Ubbe, then I request you call me, y/n."
 An unexpected, loud banging on the door startled them both. Y/n gasped and rushed to sit up against the headboard, eyes wide with fright. Ubbe immediately pushed himself up, making sure to put himself between his wife and the door, unsheathing a dagger he had subtly slipped under his pillow. 
 "Are you two done yet? Some ugly priest out here wants to know!" Bjorn shouted through the door. 
 Ubbe groaned, putting the dagger away, before calling back. "No! This woman is insatiable! Tell the priest to come back in the morning! Hopefully I can still walk!"
 A harsh bark of laughter preceded loud arguing, which could be heard through the door. Raised voices crept underneath the door frame, the loudest being that of Bjorn. Ubbe stayed perched on the bed, to assist his brother if the need called for it. No matter what Alfred or those whiny clergy ordered, no one would be witnessing any consummation of his. Ever. Eventually, the voices dwindled like a dying flame until only silence could be heard from outside. Ubbe figured Bjorn must have won the argument, or used enough threats of bodily harm, since no one entered the bedroom. 
 The dagger returned to its sheath under his pillow. A habit he had since childhood. A glance to his side showed his wife still shifted as far away from the door as possible, hands clutching the sheets in a tight grip. He reached a hand out to her. "It's alright. Bjorn won't let anyone in."
 She took his hand, still eyeing the door warily. "What did you say to him?"
 "Ah, nothing important. Just to keep the priests away."
 "Ok."
 "We should go to sleep. Today has been long." He stated after he coaxed her back under the covers and no longer sent glances towards the door. Only after she was settled did he relax. Laying on his back, an arm behind his head, his eyes closed almost instantly. He could hear her shuffling occasionally but he paid it no mind. Sleep slinked into his mind, hovering on the edges. 
 "Ubbe…." A barely-heard whisper pulled him from the brink of sleep. 
 "Yes?"
 "What if….what if I want to."
 "Mmmm?"
 "Um, fulfill our marital duties."
 Well, that got his attention. He turned his head to the side, noting how her gaze traced over his bare chest slowly then lifted to meet his gaze. "Are you asking me to have sex with you?"
 "Yes." She bit her bottom lip, even as her eyes never strayed from him.
 "Are you sure?"
 She nodded. 
 "Hmmm….well, I may be convinced but….you have to kiss me first."
 Cautiously yet deliberately, she scooted closer until they lay side by side. In a graceful movement, she leaned over and pressed her lips to his in an innocent, chaste kiss. Her lips were softer than even the pillow beneath him and by the gods, she was going to be his undoing. After a moment, she leaned back, gazing down at him with a nervous yet endearing smile. Before he could say anything, to encourage or instruct, her lips descended on his once again, but this time hungrily. His initial surprise transitioned to a carnal satisfaction when a soft moan slipped out of her after he tugged on her bottom lip. Their mouths connected with a needy kiss, sending a jolt of electricity through him. All thoughts of sleep forgotten. 
 Suddenly, he flipped them over, pinning her underneath him, taking charge of their love-making. She giggled at the abrupt action but that was quickly silenced by his mouth crashing against hers and thrusting his tongue into her mouth. 
 As she kissed him back passionately, he wondered if maybe this marriage was not such a bad idea. If the way her lips eagerly sought his, her hands gripped onto biceps as if to keep her steady, her back arched as he trailed open-mouth kisses down her neck….maybe the marriage could be more than just political. 
 Soon enough, all thoughts vanished from his mind that were not related in regards to exploring the exquisite body of his Saxon wife and listening to her moan his name repeatedly. 
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yuyuntianyu · 3 years
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[2HA analysis blog] To love you is torment but leave you I cannot
I wanted to write this (hopefully not-too-long) blog to give 2HA fandom a different perspective of the events in the past timeline. I noticed that there are many little things that could not be carried over to the English language. These little things can give more explanations to our characters’ actions so I hope sharing this would help the novel make more sense. This blog focuses on Taxian-jun and Chu Fei.
Warning: Spoilers ! ! ! Taxian-jun and Chu Fei are their own trigger warnings ! ! !
Despite the novel having 350 chapters, we really know little about what happened between Taxian-jun and Chu Fei besides the abuse and mistreatment and that little is relayed to us by the Most Unreliable Narrator of the Cultivation World - Mo Ran Mo Weiyu. If we only take Mo Ran for his words then a lot of his and Chu Wanning’s decisions told later on would seem irrational and almost silly. So let’s dive deep in the past so we can understand how the great cultivator Beidou Xian-zun could raise such a dumb husky since the events in the past would explain the more irrational decisions made by both main characters.
Given Mo Ran’s narrator is about as reliable as his character in the first 120 chapters, we have to look at other more subtle clues and some of them are due to cultural and linguistic differences.
1. I used to like you a lot
At his coronation day, Taxian-jun stated that he once greatly looked up to Chu Wanning and that he used to love and respect him dearly. Maybe I am reading into this too much but this is my theory: The flower could erase the memory itself but cannot erase the feelings associated with the memory. He had his memories of the good deeds Chu Wanning did for him erased but still remembered that he used to love and respect him. It doesn’t make sense unless it is indeed that the flower could not erase its host’s feelings. So throughout the novel, Mo Ran’s complicated emotions are complicated possibly because he could not remember how he came to have these feelings. Similarly, Hua Binan could mess with the undead Taxian-jun’s memory to a great extent but could not erase his obsession with Chu Wanning.
2. I gave you a new title
Chu Fei. 楚妃. In the Imperial Chinese harem hierarchy, “Fei” means consort and not concubine (嬪 “Pín"). Consorts were highly respected positions in the palace weidling much political power and were only seconds to the Empress Consort. Another major difference is a consort would be married to the emperor while a concubine would not. So if Taxian-jun had truly wanted to only humiliate Chu Wanning and keep him for the carnal pleasures (I am intentionally ignoring his breeding kink completely), he would keep him as a concubine but he gave Chu Wanning the Consort title and hid him from the world. At this point, Taxian-jun had almost lost Chu Wanning once and had spent a lot of effort to bring him back from the verge of death after hearing Chu Wanning’s apology so his anger might have softened a bit. Also, given that Chu Wanning is a man, having a legitimate offspring ( (I am still intentionally ignoring Mo Ran's breeding kink completely) is not an issue so although this is not clearly stated, I believe Taxian-jun wanted to force a relationship and somewhat proper marriage on Chu Wanning. Another hint of this is in an Extra chapter where Taxian-jun tried to get Chu Wanning a birthday gift. He recalled that in his past timeline, he had wanted Chu Wanning to give him something on his birthday as well and that he had wanted Chu Wanning’s heart.
3. Shizun likes to write letters and poems
On Book 3 Chapter 247, Chu Wanning sat down and wrote a few unsent letters to the people he used to know. He also wrote a few lines of poetry. In the first few lines taken from different literature works, he expressed his sense of helplessness and his wish to remain untainted despite the circumstances. The more important two lines are from a poem written by a real poet named Fàn Chéngdà ( 范成大) who lived in the 12th century Southern-Song dynasty. The two lines read:
“May I be like the stars, may you* be as the moon. Night after night, may we shine together side by side.” **
*In the original work, the character used instead of you is “jun” 君 (as in 踏仙君 Taxian-jun). 君 could mean king, emperor, lord, or gentleman ** This is my rough translation - I haven’t found an English version of this poem
These two lines are commonly used in romantic novels as a way to express one’s unchanging love and loyalty to another person despite the circumstances. He compared himself as the stars and wanted to remain by Taxian-jun whom he viewed as the moon. Chu Wanning wrote this to express his willingness to stay but he would never voice this out loud. In the next timeline, he did the same thing by quietly loving and caring for Mo Ran 1.0 despite the mistreatment and was content with never expressing his feelings vocally. Mo Ran was rather uneducated and thus could not fully comprehend these two lines and misunderstood that Chu Wanning was missing Xue Meng.
4. You are all I have left
In chapter 252, after Chu Wanning returned to The Red Lotus Pavilion, he found Taxian-jun already waiting for him. Taxian-jun told Chu Wanning about a dream he had and said:
“I am afraid I don’t resent you… I want to resent you… Otherwise, I…” “In the end, it’s just you and I”.
This is not the first time he expressed that Chu Wanning was all he had left or they only had each other. I believe that at this point, Taxian-jun might have somewhat believed Chu Wanning and recognized that his memories were missing. His words and behaviors seemed a lot more gentle and he mentioned they did have periods of time where their marriage was easier. I believe it was after this point. He told us about the numerous times he attempted to spoil his consort or expressed his affection through gifts, a trip outside the palace, goods, jewels, and even teaching Chu Wanning how to cook or personally taking care of Chu Wanning when he was sick. At one point, Taxian-jun expressed his wish for a more peaceful marriage with Chu Wanning through his breeding kink by saying that if they had children, perhaps they would be more civil towards each other.
Edit: I really wanted to go about this blog without having to refer to their particular taste in bed
5. Are you still mad?
This is a smaller detail but in the original text and the Vietnamese official translation, the way they talked to each other had a bit more of the “husband-wife” dynamic. Especially Chu Wanning ( l┐(︶▽︶)┌ ), the comment section said he sounded like when your wife is mad that you didn’t take out the trash but still says: “I’m not mad” and Taxian-jun, the husband, would come around and ask “Are you still mad at me?” after every fight.
6. I did not think you would really leave me.
On Chapter 99, Mo Ran recalled the fight between him and Chu Wanning after an assassination attempt. In order to convince Mo Ran to not go to Taxue Palace, Chu Wanning said:
“If you destroy Taxue palace, if you kill Xue Meng, I will die before you”.
Now the line “I will die before you” in my language is less of a suicidal ideation but more of a threat. It's used when a person already knows that they are important to the other person and is using their own death as a threat to make the other person do something. This line is thrown around a lot during heated arguments between people close to each other but they almost never mean it. (Even my mom said it numerous times before T_T . I personally think it’s manipulative). Therefore, it is understandable Taxian-jun did not take this line seriously and replied almost mockingly. After all, they had been married for almost a decade at that point, Taxian-jun probably felt somewhat comfortable that Chu Wanning would not do anything reckless. He could not foresee that Chu Wanning meant what he said and actually followed through with his words. I believe that if Taxian-jun had known that Chu Wanning was serious, Taxian-jun would not have gone to Taxue Palace. 7. Don't leave me, ok?
Then Chu Wanning died and Mo Ran spent two years alone. In those two years, we know he basically went insane because of grief, talked to a corpse everyday, and deep fried his Empress Consort. But strangely enough, Mo Ran 1.0 did not immediately mention this after being reborn although it was the main reason he committed suicide. And at that point, it had been well over a decade since Shi Mei faked his death in the past timeline, yet Mo Ran 1.0 seemed to still hold a lot of resentment towards Chu Wanning. Also, he said he could accept Shi Mei’s death but would never accept Chu Wanning’s. So honestly, it did not make sense to me the first time I read the novel and I believed Mo Ran resented Chu Wanning for a different reason.
The answer was first hinted at in chapter 9 when Mo Ran scolded the sleeping Chu Wanning. He called Chu Wanning a donkey hoof (lol) and this is actually an idiom to scold someone who is disloyal and unfaithful in love. The puzzles came together when the undead Taxian-jun showed up and immediately went after Chu Wanning (and not Shi Mei). He believed Chu Wanning used his death to hurt him and was angry at Chu Wanning for leaving him. This is the resentment Mo Ran 1.0 carried over to the next timeline. He hated Chu Wanning for abandoning him. This is solidified in chapter 262 by the undead Taxian-jun pleading to Chu Wanning:
“Don’t betray me” “Don’t leave me the second time. The first time you left, I could choose death as a relief. This time, even death is not an option any more… I won’t be able to bear it…”
So there it is! I hope this blog brings some new information and feel free to discuss! Let me know if you have any questions for me \( ̄▽ ̄)/
Disclaimer: Plenty of this is my conclusion drawn from the already ambiguous original text and various translations. Unless Meatbun says it, it’s not canon. I am looking at the novel in three different languages so I might have made some mistakes. Pls forgive. Also, I am not making excuses for Mo Ran 0.5’s actions nor am I justifying the abuse in any way. Chu Wanning never said Mo Ran 0.5 was innocent of these crimes nor will I.
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poptod · 3 years
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Will You? (Rami Malek x Reader)
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Description: Meeting Rami in the back alley behind an awards show.
Notes: ugh ive been having writers block for the first time in like two years so ive only been writing short stuff. i have a couple fics backpiled for various rami characters so thats coming up! gender neutral as usual WC: 1.5k
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Ugh.
How quickly it all became too much. You wondered, clutching your aching head, why you even came here; large parties were never your scene, public events even less so. A world-wide broadcasted movie awards event was nothing near anything you'd done before. Earlier in the day, as you were dressing and readying yourself for the evening, you stared into the mirror and wondered then, as well, what you were doing.
Maybe––probably––it had to do with the fact that one of your favorite actors' presence was assured, and you rarely ever visited New York, making this the first time you'd been in the right place at the right time to have the opportunity to do this. You steeled yourself then and you steeled yourself now, digging into your clutch bag to pull out a carton of cigarettes.
You fumbled with the cigarette as you reached back in, searching for your lighter. A frustrated grumble grew in your mouth and came out as a curse. With a harsh sigh you yanked your hand out, throwing it up into the air, and sitting with a thud on a wooden box laying by the side of a large trash bin. You rubbed your face harshly, attempting to wipe away the irritation. To no avail––you had no lighter, and your nerves were itching, teeming with aggravation that crawled like bugs beneath your skin. You needed this and the world didn't like you.
The door you'd left the building from opened once more, swinging shut with a loud clanking sound that seemed to echo in the vacant alleyway. Drops of water fell into the puddles at your feet, still present from the earlier rain, and now filled with bits of trash. The very same water almost splashed onto you as a car passed by, its' wheels revving and spinning away through a massive puddle. It must've been midnight, but assholes were still awake as well, and the city lights showed no sign of stopping.
This was why you only visited New York City.
"Here," someone with a deep, rough voice spoke, and you looked up to find a vein-filled hand balancing a blue lighter between the second and third fingers.
There weren't any active lights in the alleyway, but the puddles reflected the street lights that stood a few meters away. That was enough to recognize him when you glanced to his face.
Rami fucking Malek.
He turned almost the second you looked up at him, meaning he didn't catch the sudden, stumbling recognition that flooded your expression. Thankfully, you had the time to calm yourself before he sat down across from you on a dirty (and probably wet) stool.
"Thank you," you said, lighting your cigarette and breathing in the sweet smoke before you said anything else. "You're a lifesaver."
"No, I just have a smoking problem," he said.
You both laughed, softly, and looked away.
You took another drag.
"You're Rami Malek, aren't you?" You said through the smoke that escaped you. It was rough on your throat, but you didn't especially care anymore. Somehow, you remembered a flask of water––just not the lighter.
"Yeah," he said with another soft, bashful, chuckle.
"I like your work. Or, your style," you mumbled as you tapped the ashy end away. He might've been a star of your dreams, and mere images of him might've taken your breath away, but you would treat him like a regular person. "It's.. unique, but familiar."
"Thank you," he said, nodding, a charming grin on his face. "May I ask your name?"
"(Y/N)." You shifted in your seat as you looked down. An ounce of humor came to you once you said, "you won't recognize the name."
"No, but I'm happy to recognize it in the future," he said, tilting his head in your direction.
You broke out in a laugh and a wide, blushing grin, shaking your head. God, he looked good in a suit––all black. Silver in his lapel. His neck revealed colored veins that led up to a jawline that would surely cut you. Why was he talking to you? Why was he being nice?
"You're a charmer," you finally said through your giggling, continuing with, "do you want some?" before he could say anything.
You handed the cigarette to him and he took it, pursing his lips and letting go with a puff of smoke. Even in the hot, humid air, those clouds coalesced and drifted away just as usual.
"You're not an actor," he stated, his eyes fixed on the cigarette as he tapped the ashes away. "Not here for that, so why are you here? Just out of curiosity."
"That's... a very good question," you said with an exasperated laugh. "I'm a teacher, I don't know what I'm doing here."
"Teacher?" He repeated. "My brother's one of those. What d'you teach?"
He handed the cigarette back to you.
"Third graders," you grumbled. He sucked in a sharp breath in a wince. "I usually do first graders, but not this year."
"That's rough, I've heard those are demonic years," he said, earning a laugh from you.
"Yeah, that's a good way of putting it," you said as you doted on the cigarette. "I guess this is just the first time I've visited New York when an awards show is happening."
"How do you like the big screen life so far?"
"Not very much, but I never thought I would," you said quietly, but he still chuckled. "I... I did think about being an actor, when I was a kid. I think a lot of kids do these days, though. Actors are.. like the new Gods. You know, in ancient times people would worship idols, and that's what people call you now..." you met his gaze and couldn't tear yourself from it, "... idols. Images of something to strive for."
He nodded, his brow creased in deep thought.
"After a while the world shows you what celebrity life is really like, and you read all sorts of things, see how people change... eventually you don't really want it anymore," you said, shrugging. "Or you decide you want it, or want part of it despite the other stuff."
He nodded again but had little to say despite being a celebrity himself.
"Which was it for you?"
"Hm?"
A spell broke over his eyes and he appeared to return to normal, having not heard or comprehended your words.
"Did you become an actor because you wanted all of it, with the bad parts, or you wanted a specific part and still became an actor despite all the other things?"
"... complex question," he said after a moment, rocking his balance back and forth awkwardly as you laughed. "I wanted to become other people, transform myself into characters. I was attracted to the job. Not the other things attached to it."
"Well I'm glad you became an actor anyway," you said, relighting the cigarette with a quick drag. "That way I could meet you."
"And I could meet you, as well," he said in that same, deep voice he used when he first spoke to you.
You could do nothing but chuckle and cast your eyes down, shaking your head.
"Yeah, I guess you could," you mumbled.
He reached forward, snagging the cigarette from between your fingers. That made you look up, drawing your attention back to the subtle lines marking his face, and the glow of fire that revealed cool, green eyes behind thick lashes.
A loud wave of cheering came from inside the building, and the both of you looked back at the steel door. Still unopened.
"I should probably get inside, the cameras might notice my seat's empty," he said in a similar mumble.
The cigarette, now nothing more than a filter, dropped from his lips and fell to the ground, squashed beneath his shiny, black shoe.
"Ready?" He asked.
"Have to be," you said as you stood. "Not wasting a fifty dollar ticket on my damn social anxiety."
He chuckled and said, "I'd invite you to sit with me, but there aren't any free spots. How about..." He'd been opening the door, but he paused, causing you to misstep and halt yourself only when your chest was an inch from his. Your eyes darted up to his. "Come see me after the show. I have a '97 bottle of Montalcino at home that I think you'd enjoy."
You nearly choked on your own spit, but fortunately for you, it only came out as a cough and a clearing of the throat. 'What', almost escaped your mouth in the most astounded tone before you bit it back.
Was he propositioning you? Was this a friendly invitation? Why was, again, Rami fucking Malek asking to spend anymore time with you than he had to?
You realized a silence had spanned between you when his eyes flickered down to your lips, at which point shock fully brought you back into your body.
"Will you?" He asked hopefully.
"Yeah," you murmured. "I'd like that."
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edenmemes · 4 years
Text
horizon zero dawn starters
❝  you can sense it. you already know you’re going to lose.  ❞ ❝  did you want to be alone?  ❞ ❝  you wouldn’t be so eager to speak with me if you knew me.  ❞ ❝  that will draw attention. we won’t have this place to ourselves for long now.  ❞ ❝  it’s a world worth fighting for. not just here. everywhere.  ❞ ❝  trying to live up to glorious pasts has a way of getting people killed.  ❞ ❝  never celebrate a victory before it’s earned.  ❞ ❝  i crave vengeance. do you?  ❞ ❝  my comrades weren’t so lucky. i might shed a tear, if they weren’t all cutthroats and cheaters.  ❞ ❝  i’ll always have a minute for you. maybe even two.  ❞ ❝  you walk on the edge of life and death. i can tell.  ❞ ❝  what is a gift but an award you did not earn?  ❞ ❝  so many voices to listen to, it must make your head hurt. i promise my voice will be soft and soothing.  ❞ ❝  i wish i could borrow some of your courage now.  ❞ ❝  i’ve always wondered. are all your kind hunters and fighters, or just a few?  ❞ ❝  no one doubts your determination. but you need to rest.  ❞ ❝  a bold claim. i wonder if you’ll live up to it.  ❞ ❝  why would someone name a knife?  ❞ ❝  so you’re alive ! we should celebrate! drinks on me!  ❞ ❝  try not to forget me, while you’re out there saving the world.  ❞ ❝  when we spoke earlier, you winced, then looked like you were in pain - or frightened.  ❞ ❝  i’m really not one for crowds.  ❞ ❝  so - how are we gonna do that? oh, wait, i forgot. we won’t. i do all the dangerous stuff.  ❞ ❝  i knew there was something about you. hammered from the stuff they make leaders out of.  ❞ ❝  no matter what happens, i will not intervene. do you understand? you are on your own.  ❞ ❝  it’s always a pain in the neck when you show up, girl, one way or another.  ❞ ❝  you’re bleeding, let me have a look. here, hold still.  ❞ ❝  just don’t think this means i enjoy it.  ❞ ❝  i don’t want to jinx it, but we might be in the clear.  ❞ ❝  when i start a fuss, i like to finish it.  ❞ ❝  i promise to look solemn at your funeral before i hit the bar.  ❞ ❝  what could go wrong? turns out, a lot.  ❞ ❝  let me come with you! i won’t be a bother. i know how to stay out of sight.  ❞ ❝  now i’m supposed to fill ____’s shoes. and instead, here i am, stumbling around in them.  ❞ ❝  we need to talk - alone. and you need to pull it together.  ❞ ❝  i guess growing up means putting what you should do in front of what you want to do, right?  ❞ ❝  oh, are you going to shut your mouth now? because that would be a surprise.  ❞ ❝  i will come to you in secret. no one will see me, so i won’t get in trouble.  ❞ ❝  it looks like something chewed you up and spat you out.  ❞ ❝  these are the true wilds, with threats unlike any you have ever faced.  ❞ ❝  that moment the door opened and you were standing there, and the way you smiled... i had to look away or you were going to see. on my face. what had just... blossomed inside me, you know?  ❞ ❝  i’m not afraid of you - i’m not afraid of anything.  ❞ ❝  stop being evasive? you might as well tell me to stop being charming. it’s impossible.  ❞ ❝  what a waste. at least he died better than he lived.  ❞ ❝  i’ve been looking up at the stars a lot, and the only story i see written across them is that we are small and insignificant and will soon disappear with hardly a trace left behind. it’s a hard story, and i don’t like it much..  ❞ ❝  if i’m going to stand for something, it’ll have to be something i believe in.  ❞ ❝  the strength to stand alone, is the strength to make a stand.  ❞ ❝  soon it’ll all seem familiar. like home.  ❞ ❝  now i see that i was just lucky to get a minute of your time.  ❞ ❝  i know my duty to them - and to you. i’m here. and wherever you go...i will follow.  ❞ ❝  you're really good at making it impossible to like you.  ❞ ❝  i’ve missed our little talks.  ❞ ❝  will change happen at all, while men live in palaces?  ❞ ❝  confidence is quiet. you’re not.  ❞ ❝  you’re not a very convincing liar.  ❞ ❝  i already have all the friends i need. i don’t need the bother.  ❞ ❝  all right, cool your fire. i got nothing to hide.  ❞ ❝  i see you don’t recognize me. well, it was a long time ago.  ❞ ❝  you will turn back - or bleed. your choice.  ❞ ❝  when we met, i thought i was a big shot talking to a pretty girl hidden away in the middle of nowhere.  ❞ ❝  you would speak ill of the dead? truly you have no shame.  ❞ ❝  truth is, i get lonely once in awhile. there. i admitted it. don’t think less of me.  ❞ ❝  do you have any idea how dangerous it is out there?  ❞ ❝  but i don’t know anyone here.  ❞ ❝  come on, stop. you’re going to make me tear up.  ❞ ❝  i feel like i should drop to my knees and worship you.  ❞ ❝  think i’m done? think again. i’ve gotten out of worse scrapes.  ❞ ❝  it’s hard to imagine where we’d be without you - and i don’t want to try.  ❞ ❝  if we’re to fight together on the brink of life and death, i’d prefer to do so with your forgiveness.  ❞ ❝  trust is for fools. it shifts and crumbles like sand.  ❞ ❝  what will you do while i risk my life?  ❞ ❝  you can smile, can’t you? ...no, that’s a grimace.  ❞ ❝  you killed that demon...pulled its guts from the carcass!  ❞ ❝  the sooner you’re gone from here, the better.  ❞ ❝  for now, all you need to know is that i’m a whisper of reason in this howling pit of insanity.  ❞ ❝  i heard the rumors, but i didn’t know for sure until saw you just now. i’m glad to see you’re okay.  ❞ ❝  no barrier can now stay you from your sacred task.  ❞ ❝  i won’t deny i risked your life. but it was the only way.  ❞ ❝  they can’t shoot if they’re dead. keep them busy, i’ll find an angle.  ❞ ❝  comforts are weakness.  ❞ ❝  as for honor, sacrifice-- true sacrifice, the kind rulers know nothing of -- it’s all a fat joke.  ❞ ❝  i’ve been sharpening my blade, anticipating the scent of the fight.  ❞ ❝  you’re not just a traveler. that armor was fitted for you. and the way you hold your bow...  ❞ ❝  i’d expect to see some tomatoes fly, maybe rocks. hopefully not spears. in any case, be ready to duck.  ❞ ❝  i’m not here for the price on your head.  ❞ ❝  for a moment, i was a child again, rapt from stories told by hunters at the campfire.  ❞ ❝  this...attachment to me will only hold you back.  ❞ ❝  whatever you do, don’t let their shabby looks fool you! they’ll kill you as soon as look at you.  ❞ ❝  i’m doing what i love. and what could be wrong with that?  ❞ ❝  when the arrowhead passes between armor and skin - that’s the place i belong.  ❞ ❝  right. why would i expect an answer? it’s so much more exciting to keep it all a mystery...  ❞ ❝  oh, it’s a story all right, but it takes a while to tell. maybe another time, over a drink or three?  ❞ ❝  why are you talking like we’ll never see each other again?  ❞ ❝  i’ll wager you don’t scare easy - it’s a good quality.  ❞ ❝  there will be people celebrating, and feasting. more than you've ever see in one place.  ❞ ❝  i didn’t bring you here to answer questions. i brought you here to deal with that.  ❞ ❝  ...you’ve...put a lot of thought into this.  ❞ ❝  i do not want to hear this talk from you again. doubt is heavier than a week’s snow.  ❞ ❝  bandits are drawn to here like infection to a wound.  ❞ ❝  i guess you’re doing the right thing for the wrong reason.  ❞ ❝  i thought you and i were agreed: only enjoy the killing as much as the challenge.  ❞ ❝  rumors spread like blood.  ❞ ❝  they would steal from us, chase us through the night, laughing.  ❞ ❝  leave it too long, your fingers itch for the bowstring.  ❞ ❝  you’re strong, shrewd, capable... i could use someone like you on my side.  ❞ ❝  you defeated it? alone?  ❞ ❝  grasp your grief. and kill it.  ❞ ❝  at least i’ll have a fire to keep me company.  ❞ ❝  only survivors scar. after everything you’ve been through, you keep going.  ❞ ❝  just stop being evasive and tell me who you really are.  ❞ ❝  i don’t mind putting my worthless ass on the line. but not yours.  ❞ ❝  i’m not here to intrigue you.  ❞ ❝  how about you? who do you think i am? what will you remember of me? ❞ ❝  everything freezing. the ground, the air... me.  ❞ ❝  you lost someone you care about. that leaves a wound. the sort of wound a lot of people don’t recover from.  ❞ ❝  the only thing i know i’m still fighting for is...you.  ❞ ❝  i didn’t earn this mercy, but i will die to make myself worthy of it.  ❞ ❝  to say you have my gratitude feels woefully insufficient. you saved my life.  ❞ ❝  makes you wish you could kill them more than once, doesn’t it?  ❞ ❝  why did you act so strange when we spoke earlier?  ❞ ❝  being smart won’t count for nothing if you don’t make the world a better place.  ❞ ❝  to serve a purpose greater than yourself...that is the lesson you must learn.  ❞ ❝   if a big, meaningful talk is what you’re after, move along.  ❞ ❝  that carcass! what sort of beast was that?  ❞ ❝  what are you doing out here all alone? where are your men?  ❞ ❝  you’ve obviously heard of me. you know what i’m capable of. why do you think this will turn out well for you?  ❞ ❝  there’s so much to discover before the world ends.  ❞ ❝  i couldn’t wait to see you again. it’s like...i’m dead and only come alive when i’m here with you.  ❞ ❝  some even say you have a conscience. how extraordinary!  ❞ ❝  do you always accuse people you’ve just met of lying?  ❞ ❝  if you ever visit, look me up. i’ll show you around, make introductions. it’d be a whole new life, if you want it.  ❞ ❝  it had a name once, not that it matters now. i was born there.  ❞ ❝  i always knew you were different... i think you’re a blessing.  ❞ ❝  no one hears your prayers anyway.  ❞ ❝  this place is difficult even for the prepared.  ❞ ❝  i underestimated you. i won’t make that same mistake again.  ❞ ❝  oh. is that supposed to sound scary or something?  ❞ ❝  look, maybe i shouldn’t say this, but it’s obvious that you don’t belong in this... backwater.  ❞ ❝  were you kept hidden away? did you have overprotective parents or something?  ❞ ❝  hmph. don’t go soft on me.  ❞ ❝  i prefer the company of spirits. or my own.  ❞ ❝  blood spilled calls for blood spilled! if the ground is cursed, then let our vengeance sanctify it.  ❞ ❝  so many people here, all talking at once. how does anyone think?  ❞ ❝  why is it that every time something bad happens to you, someone else tells you something bad that happened to them, as if that makes it any better?  ❞ ❝  i’ve never seen armor like yours.  ❞ ❝  the wrongness here jags at me like an arrowhead.  ❞ ❝  when you found me, i was trying to eke out a glorious death. but now a glorious life seems more preferable.  ❞ ❝  tomorrow, may the sun rise on the world.  ❞ ❝  you saved my epitaph from being ‘a fine soldier but a fool of a man’.  ❞ ❝  i don’t think i know you at all. but i’d like to.  ❞ ❝  i don’t like this. it feels...wrong.  ❞ ❝  oh, i’m grateful for this wound. it’s a lesson i won’t forget.  ❞ ❝  you’re a clever one. but not so clever as to heed my warning, i see.  ❞ ❝  not everyone follows the law like you do.  ❞ ❝  how many times have i pulled you from danger by your neck? made excuses for your behavior?  ❞ ❝  for what it’s worth, i’m glad you’re coming with me.  ❞ ❝  what have i ever given you but struggle?  ❞ ❝  it’s starting to feel real, you know? that we might actually get out of this place.  ❞ ❝  i’ve never been part of anything. i serve my own interests. always.  ❞ ❝  i apologize for my...behavior. i thought i was dead.  ❞ ❝  look, i don’t even know your story. must be a good one. if you ever feel like telling it, look me up.  ❞ ❝  when my anger has thawed, i will feel nothing.  ❞ ❝  i can’t remember when i had this much fun! i should be thanking you!  ❞ ❝  you gave him a quicker death than he deserved.  ❞ ❝  that...could be the last creepy thing you’ve said to me.  ❞ ❝  something’s really bothering you. if you think i’m gonna abandon you, you’re wrong.  ❞ ❝  surprised you saw me, the way you keep looking every other direction to make sure no one’s watching. careful there, or you’ll sprain your neck.  ❞ ❝  remember how the blood pounded in your ears? they’ll ring later, in the calm. it’s a call to arms, from your inner desires.  ❞ ❝  ___’s dead. i was ready to go through anything to make that happen. and i did.  ❞ ❝  is there a reason why you’re acting so cranky today?  ❞ ❝  you hold your grief close, like a tailsman.  ❞ ❝  i hope you can find peace.  ❞ ❝  you don’t know who i am, do you?  ❞ ❝  you know there’s always been dirt on my hands. now there’s blood too.  ❞ ❝  i want to be strong like you. but...  ❞ ❝  i hadn’t given up on hope, but i’ve forgotten the taste of it.  ❞ ❝  just...don’t start singing again.  ❞ ❝  you’re sparing me? after all i’ve done?  ❞ ❝  i don’t intend to die today.  ❞ ❝  it will take many good deeds to make up for the crimes you’ve committed.  ❞ ❝  but why should you have justice, and not me?  ❞ ❝  such a voice... a cold, awful jangle that scrapes your bones and hollows your guts.  ❞ ❝  one more word, and i’ll throw you in jail myself.  ❞ ❝  only in the struggle against death do we find, even for a moment, the spark of life.  ❞ ❝  the war changed you. changed us both. we’re not kids anymore.  ❞ ❝  i can’t sleep, i can’t breathe knowing you could be out there...hurting...  ❞ ❝  now i’m left to wear my sins. for me, at least, they hang heavy.  ❞       ❝  but what does a girl like you know of loss?  ❞ ❝  it’s a good thing you’ve got brains. because your personality could use some work.  ❞ ❝  i was going to ask you to leave with me...to go somewhere out in the sun where no shadow could reach us.  ❞ ❝  they didn’t need to disgrace my name. i did it myself, serving a rotten throne. ❞ ❝  you don’t approve? well, i have a secret for you. neither do i.  ❞ ❝  perhaps you are not an evil man. just a weak one.  ❞ ❝  losses can feel... overwhelming. but they remind us of our connections to others.  ❞ ❝  i don’t exactly see anyone beating down the door to spend time with you.  ❞ ❝  if i had known, i would never have spoken to you.  ❞ ❝  forge a new life. one of better make.  ❞ ❝  impossible odds, fine company, killing without consequence --- how could i resist?  ❞ ❝  look at me. i can’t imagine how you’re feeling, but you don’t have to go through it alone.  ❞ ❝  i wish i had known, all this time, what you were going through.  ❞ ❝  i’m with you. until the end.  ❞ ❝  i thought you just wanted to have tea and conversation! is there a battle coming? i wasn’t informed!  ❞ ❝  we’ve only met a few times, and yet you know me so well.  ❞ ❝  are you going to drive me off, too? it’s okay. i’ve dealt with worse.  ❞ ❝  now i know the kind of person i want to be, watching you.  ❞ ❝  it’s so...bittersweet. like a smile through bloodied teeth.  ❞ ❝  i swear i saw my ancestors... they said: ‘we’re not surprised to see you here’.  ❞ ❝  more mercenaries? what kind of person sells their loyalty?  ❞ ❝  keep moving or you’ll die!  ❞ ❝  this is the kind of place you’d take someone if you want to lose them forever.  ❞ ❝  if that’s destiny, i wouldn’t wish it on anyone.  ❞ ❝  i’ve thought about what you said. every time, the wound you gave me caught on my ribs.  ❞ ❝  i’ve never seen such disregard for personal safety.  ❞ ❝  the most important thing is what you’re not like - your father.  ❞ ❝  i’m never lonely where there’s killing to be done.  ❞ ❝  my past - and my secrets - are my own. you’ll do well to remember that.  ❞ ❝  only to you do i extend the courtesy of a warning.  ❞ ❝  if the war’s not over, i’m not done.  ❞ ❝  a long kiss, the best kind... i can still remember the feel of your hand on the back of my neck.  ❞ ❝  it would be a worse fate to bow our heads to the challenge and say, ‘too much’.  ❞ ❝  let’s not say farewell. i’ve had enough of that to last me a dozen winters.  ❞ ❝  have your wounds even had time to heal?  ❞ ❝  you can stop worrying. the secret’s safe with me.  ❞ ❝  just to be clear, i have no plans to murder you, alright?  ❞ ❝  you’re an idiot. a dangerous idiot, but an idiot.  ❞ ❝  i’m kicking myself for not seeing your potential from the beginning.  ❞ ❝  for your sake, you must go where you will never find me. this is goodbye.   ❞ ❝  so that’s what this is? a tantrum? a cry for attention?  ❞ ❝  change won’t come in a single sunrise.  ❞ ❝  this place may not seem like much, but we’ll make the best of it.  ❞ ❝  no murderers here, if that’s what you’re asking.  ❞
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infernalrevenge · 3 years
Note
HCs abt an S/O of Lady D's who's struggling to get her daughters' approval? It's rarely addressed in fanfics, but y'all.. becoming a stepparent is a hard and frustrating journey, especially when mama and kids have such tight bonds. Makes small wins feel so rewarding, tho! What are your thoughts on that? How would D react, how would she help? (or make it harder, in true possessive Mother Hen™ fashion..) Which flybaby would warm up to S/O first? How would S/O try to win each of them over, etc..?
Oooh this is a really cool thought! Not that I have a lot of experience with stepparents but yeah, changes and adjustments in family dynamics like that can't be easy. I think I'm gonna have some fun with this.
When the Dimitrescu sisters found out you were the human dating their mother, at first they were mostly indifferent. Not like it's their business as to who Alcina gets it on with anyway (and they could also be thinking you would quickly turn to lunch if you fuck up badly enough, in which case they would gladly join her in the feast.)
They might quip with you sometimes, but for the most part, you're left alone.
But when they realized you were here to stay and might become a parental figure in their life... oh boy.
You're telling them they have to answer to you now? A mere mortal? On what grounds? Just because you have sex with their mom? They think the fuck not.
Hell, they're individually old enough to be your parent, so truly... what the fuck?
(Part of that fear of you joining the family may come from thinking that Alcina now has someone else to preoccupy herself with, so there's less time for them. Perhaps even less love for them. They can't have that. That can't happen.)
As for your partner's reaction? She's kind of torn. On one hand, she understands how her daughters feel about having a new family member suddenly join the dynamic -- someone they barely know relative to each other. You could have been around for a few years, but they've been all together for more than half a century, and they're doing just fine.
On the other, she wants to see you all getting along. She loves you and wants you to be a part of her life, and of course she also loves her daughters with all her heart.
She's not really sure what to do, so she kind of... ends up not doing anything.
But she is curious as to what you'll do about the situation though, since the sisters would hardly make it a secret that your presence is an annoyance at best, completely unwanted and unwelcome at worst.
Bela, surprisingly, might be the hardest to win over. You would think that, as the eldest, she should be the one to lead by example and be the mature one. Plus, she's always looking for her mother's approval, so approving of you may get her on her good side (and yours.)
But she's very opposed to change, especially one that affects her life this much when it's not her choice.
She lets Cassandra and Daniela get away with pulling harmless pranks on you to get under your skin, or make Alcina mad at you. She pretends to not have a direct hand in them and would passive-aggressively remark on whatever they did.
Oh, your clothes were misplaced and looking for new ones made you late to a date with the Lady? "None of them were very nice anyway. This is doing you a favor."
You found dog poop under your bed and now you reek? "I don't smell that much of a difference."
Getting doused in sticky honey and molasses somehow? "At least Mother has a reason to think you're sweet now."
They would never do anything to hurt you, not unless they want to incur their mother's wrath or sadness, just... little things (hopefully enough to get you to leave.)
But luckily, if you're a patient and persistent person, they (ever so) slowly warm up to you in different ways.
The most important thing to remember is that they're different people despite having a lot of things in common, so your manner of approaching them will have to vary for each sister.
Daniela might be the easiest to win over, such a sociable little fly. She might try to be standoffish at first, but if you bring up a book series that she enjoys reading as a topic for conversation, she can and will keep you there for hours talking about the characters, dissecting certain themes, and explaining her theories of the inner machinations of the plot.
If you actually start reading it upon her recommendation, she becomes ecstatic. Finally, someone other than her sisters she can explain these theories to! And someone who can actually relate and add on to them!
Eventually, she'll come to realize that having you around won't mean the end of their family. It just means they're getting more out of it -- a new member to love, and one who loves them.
Cassandra might be a little territorial about her current interests, so you'll have to take on a different approach.
Maybe try introducing her to something that peripherally matches what she likes now. She seems to really like hunting and torture to take her aggression out on, so uh... maybe try martial arts?
It would be more fun if it was something the both of you were new at, so you could bond over attempting to do things together. Nothing says "I want to get to know my stepdaughter better" like letting her throw you to the mat and laugh in excitement when she gets the technique right.
She is still very stubborn though, so she may take a while to fully convince. Even when it seems like you're on her good side, there's a tiny bit of denial. But she'll come around, no matter how reluctant.
Finally, as for Bela, she just needs to see that, though most of her family now genuinely likes you, that it doesn't have to change a thing about how they feel about her either. They're not going to abandon her or anything that drastic just because someone new has entered their lives.
Seeing her sisters approve of you can be jarring, no matter how long or gradual the process may have been. Like, weren't they switching out your shampoos and putting snakes in your closet last year? Why is everyone buddy buddy now? (Why are they leaving her behind?)
She'll start to act bitter toward everyone, feeling like she's been betrayed and shut herself away. She doesn't even want to see her own mother anymore.
But eventually, you have to talk to Alcina to do something too -- she could see you were making an effort, but she's not making it clear to her daughters what exactly was happening. She should be the first to approach Bela regarding the subject, along with her sisters.
You may need some time alone with her as well to drive the point home too. Having more people in the family doesn't mean less love, but in fact it means more, because now you're there to care for her too.
And she has to admit that seeing her mother care for you, having her sisters like you, it didn't really feel like they were any different towards her. They were more insistent in getting her to spend time with you, sure, but other than that... things were mostly the same.
The acceptance may be begrudging at first, but when she actually gets used to this new norm, she'll come around.
If you want to bond with her, you can teach her something. She likes learning new things, and she'll start to warm up to you more if she has reason to keep going to you to get this new information.
It can be anything -- music, arts, sports, cooking, you name it. Even introducing her to new technology will help get on her good side. You'd be surprised at how quickly she gets into it that you start to wonder why it was so hard to get her to like you in the first place.
Also, just talk to her. As a person, as your new daughter, whatever. Just acknowledge her and be honest. She appreciates the little things.
All in all, it's going to be tough. The journey will have its ups and downs, and not everything is going to be smooth sailing. Communication is key, though, as with any sort of relationship. Let the girls know you care for them just as much as you love and care for their mother. In a way, that's all they really want.
But they're not calling you "mom/dad/parental unit". First name basis with a stepparent (affectionate) all the way.
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