#this game ruined me single handedly | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

facefullofsadness · 3 months

Note

Could you do a giselle dom pervy step sister(female reader) smut where they don’t like each other at first but ig giselle found a way to turn that hatred into them fucking in secret while their parents are in the house

ANONNNN!!! YOUR MIND!!!! I've been thinking ab this ask for WEEKS and I finally have time to write about it omg obsessed

content - stepcest, blackmail, smut (pervy!giselle, cunnilingus, fingering, face sitting, squirt, voyeurism/public(?) sex)

wc - 2739

a/n - catching up slowly but surely on asks, I have no school this week so imma try my best!

you never really warmed up to giselle.

you never really WANTED to ever warm up to her. she was mean, annoying, obnoxious, and greedy. I mean, how fucking self-centered do you have to be to make your baby stepsis call you by another name because she "doesn't deserve to call me by my real name" as giselle had said. what infuriated you was how pretty she was too. someone who was such a bitch shouldn't get the benefit of being attractive, especially since aeri knew and definitely used it to her advantage. whether it be to the people around her like friends, classmates, teachers, or even your parents, she finessed them like no one's business.

but she could never trick or fool you. you were a challenge to her, and it pissed her off not getting what she wanted. giselle HATED your guts. you were smart, sweet, cute, and generous, traits she simply was not. she hated how your guys' parents eyes' would light up in excitement when you came to them with an academic achievement, looking at you with admiration and love, eyes that would look at aeri with annoyance and disappointment.

aeri's not stupid, she knows why she's disliked, but she doesn't really care. it only really started to affect her seeing YOU be soooo liked by them. she simply hated you because you weren't easy, and you hated her because she saw everyone as easy. though, however much it upset you, it upset her to a degree you couldn't even imagine. she had to win the invisible game, and she was going to get her way with you, one way or another. so she devised a plan, which was to put simply, blackmail.

one day when you were gone at school, she set up a secret camera in your room facing your bed. she laid back on the living room couch in content, watching you come home from school, shooting each other a painfully fake greeting, before you ascended upstairs to your room. during nightfall, you would of course, fulfill your physical desires while everyone was asleep in the house, unaware of the recording device from across the room. and in the morning when you left, your wicked stepsis would sneak back in to retrieve the footage, playing it back and giggling to herself, knowing this would ruin you.

giselle's sweet baby stepsis, a sexual deviant during the after hours, shoving a huge dildo into her pussy to force multiple orgasms from her own body.

aeri was giddy with joy, now owning what single-handedly would win her the upper hand. the day continued as normal, but as you were about to go to sleep, there was a knock at your door. you rolled your eyes when you opened it to find a smug aeri, her phone in her hand with a play button over a still image of you in your room. your eyes shift between her and her phone confused before she pushes you inside and shutting the door behind her.

"what the fuck is that aeri?"

she huffs and sits comfortably at the end of your bed, "first of all, it's giselle to you, don't forget. second, how 'bout I show you?"

playing the video on max volume, your muffled moaning erupting from the small screen, watching a video of yourself masturbating. your ears ring and your cheeks flush, pouncing onto the older girl and trying to tear the phone away from her. your older stepsis is far stronger than you and easily you get overpowered, her hands pinning your wrists together and against the bed, her legs straddling either side of your lap.

with one large hand gripping your wrists together and the other hand hovering the still playing video against your face, she smirks, "what? shy? you weren't so shy last night when you were shamelessly fucking yourself, now were you? hm, y/n-ie? my sweet little sister?"

you grit your teeth and shake your head back and forth to deny the accusation, as if it weren't true. her dark chuckle fills your ears and the room, joined with the loud squelching of your pussy coming from the video. you feel tears start to well in your eyes and you plead with her.

"unnie, please... delete that!"

she coos at you, "awww sweetie, you think I'm that easy? not without a price, I won't."

you continue to plea in a desperate voice, "unnie please! I'll do anything! just please, delete it, or don't share it! anything you want!"

her lips curl into a sinister smirk that you can see even in the dark. you feel your heart drop to your stomach at the thought of what she must've suddenly imagined, immediately regretting your choice of words. before you could even consider opening your mouth to take back what you said, aeri drops the phone and covers your mouth.

"anything huh? will you behave for unnie and do anything I want?"

you debate shaking your head no, but when you hear a particularly loud moan come from the video playing next to your ear, you nod your head yes.

"good girl, you may be stubborn but you're not stupid. a little bit dumb for your choice of words though," she hums above you and trails the hand over your mouth downwards, dragging her long slim fingers across your sensitive body, jerking with every inch of contact she makes.

you whine as her fingers circle your hardening nipples and pinch them between her fingertips, giggling at how your body reacts to her touch.

"sensitive little baby, aren't you y/n-ie? fuck you're so cute, you shouldn't be so fucking cute."

aeri hated how much she was enjoying this almost as much as you did. she hated how cute her little sis was, writhing under her, eyes welling with tears in fear, body reacting to every subtle brush, thighs rubbing themselves together to suppress the ache at her core. and you hated it too, you hated that your older sister made you feel so fucking good, how her touch ignited flames in your stomach, how you panted into the air the more intimate her touch became, how you anticipated and needed more when you realized how disgusting this all was.

you both hated it, but you both couldn't get enough.

looking up into giselle's eyes at the same time she looked into yours, locking onto one another and gazing into lustfilled stares, the tension filling the air. the hatred boiled over and morphed into a new emotion, desire. a compromise emerged, and mentally, you both knew what it was. it all felt too good to want to stop, so you gave in.

leaning up and smashing your lips against aeri's, her immediately pushing back into you, pressing you down into your mattress. sloppy wet kisses loud and echoing through the room, both your moaning filling your ears and drowning out any possibility for moral dilemmas to pierce your mind. the hand pinning your wrists down, traveling up to hold your hand, interlacing her fingers through one and letting the other one go.

you let your free hand shoot into her hair, pulling her closer into you and shoving your tongue into her mouth, eliciting a whine to escape giselle's throat, accepting the intrusion. her other hand finds your thigh and brings it up, wrapping your leg around her waist and grinding her hips against your clothed core, making you both groan out into each other's mouths.

"fuck, you're good. why are you good?" she moans into your mouth.

"I'm not- a fucking- amateur." you pant out between kisses.

"yeah? then tell me, has anyone else made you feel this good?"

she questions, almost as a challenge, and you're scared to answer knowing it's just another piece of blackmail to hang over your head. you both already know the truth, obvious by your hips rutting back against her, your sweat dripping down your forehead, neck, and chest, your core aching with need, and your eyes blown to oblivion.

"fuck you," you answer instead.

she chuckles lowly again, the tone and vibration in your mouth when she does it making your pussy throb between your legs.

"not before I fuck you."

flipping you over and onto your hands and knees, tearing your shorts and panties off, throwing them to the ground. she wastes no time shoving your legs apart and licking along your leaking slit, making you moan out and bury your head into your pillows.

"you're so fucking sick, do you know that? being so wet and horny for your unnie like this, you disgusting little whore."

giselle says as if she's not soaked in her own clothes, nipples hard and hole clenching around air. she feels so powerful, so in control, and it feels so good to have you whining under her. sticking her tongue out and getting to work immediately, dragging her wet muscle greedily and swiftly against your pussy, drinking in all of your slick. muffling your moans into your pillows and clawing at your sheets hard enough to rip them.

her strong grip on both of your legs forcing you to keep them apart, slapping your ass every so often and making you scream out into the pillow. her tongue moves around your core so fucking good, alternating between sucking and flicking at your clit to thrusting and licking inside of your cunt, the sounds unbearably sinful and delightful to especially aeri's ears. she's drunk, on the taste and feel of your pussy, the way your body reacts, and the muffled cries being torn from your mouth.

she closes her eyes and relishes in your delicious juice swishing around her mouth, moaning into your pussy at how fucking good it feels to have you like this. her core aches and throbs so painfully, she clenches her thighs to hold it in. she lands another slap on your ass before shoving three fingers into you, already starting with an unforgivable pace, curling them and finding that spot in you easily. you scream and claw at the sheets, almost assuredly knowing your pillow wasn't muffling your cries anymore, not like either of you cared. aeri was going insane and felt herself becoming more and more addicted to you. addicted to ruining you, addicted to having power over you, addicted to owning you.

with the arch of your back and body stilling, you gush cum all over your stepsister's face, thighs trembling and chest heaving, moans slipping out of your mouth like a waterfall, your pussy mimicking the motions of one too. giselle drank all of it, everything, licking all over your leaking cunt and wiping her face of it too, sucking her fingers dry to not leave a single drop wasted.

she didn't even let you rest as she flipped you over onto your back, quickly stripping of her pajamas and lingerie, before climbing up to your face, her thighs resting on both sides of your head.

"use your tongue for something useful, pervy slut."

pfft, hypocrite.

she gives you no time to respond or think before shoving her fat pussy into your mouth which you immediately start to drag your tongue all over, coating it in her slick. your hands grip her juicy thighs and you dig your nails into them, her wincing above you and gripping the headboard with one hand, the other hand in her mouth to muffle her sounds.

you never rip your eyes away from her face for even a second, obsessed with how much sheer pleasure rests on giselle's face, her mouth biting down on her hand, her eyebrows furrowed in concentration, and eyes clamped shut. your nose hits her clit repeatedly with your tongue buried deep inside her cunt, flicking it to stimulate inside her tight walls. she tastes so fucking divine, cum directly entering your mouth and your spit drooling out the sides of your lips.

her hips quicken and she fully rests her weight on your face which makes you delighted, drinking her up and pulling her in, suffocating between her thighs. not that it mattered, you loved it. you couldn't breathe but you pushed through, thrusting your tongue in her and maneuvering her hips as her clit hit the tip of your nose.

"drink my squirt you little bitch, take it! don't waste a drop! fuck!"

she demands you as she cums in your mouth, her pussy squirting onto your tongue. her thighs shake in your hands and you close your eyes to avoid squirt getting in them. you feel like your drowning in the sheer amount of liquid coming from aeri's pussy, but you obey your sister, drinking everything that slides down your throat. she finally calms down and you tap on her thighs in a panic, literally not able to breathe. she laughs above you and stays there, watching color drain from your face before she lifts herself up, watching you cough and gasp for air.

"sick fuck," she says before smashing her lips against yours' and digging her tongue into your mouth again.

suddenly, she pulls away and gets dressed, picking up her phone and waving at you with that infuriating smirk on her face as she opens the door and leaves, "see you again, baby sis!"

and from then on that's when it started, fucking your step sister in secret. at first it was only at night, every night since the first time. then it progressed to whenever your parents were out of the house, fucking on the couch in the living room, on the kitchen island, in the shower, in each other's rooms. at some point, she started to get more flirty with you, her touches lingering for too long when she held your hips in the kitchen to move past you or sliding her hands up your shirt when she'd greet you with a hug when you came home from school, whispering an "I missed you" into your ear, her breath against it making a shiver go down your spine, which always drove you insane.

at some point though, giselle couldn't give less of a fuck if your parents were home or not, she just wanted to fuck you. your family would be having a movie night in the living room and you'd go to the kitchen to get more snacks, the older girl following you to "help." then she'd pin you to the kitchen counter and slip her fingers down your underwear, dipping them into your already wet pussy.

"really y/n-ie? you're fucking wet? were you eye fucking me all night that you couldn't help yourself get horny? let me help you with that baby."

she would whisper breathily into your ear before fingering you right then and there, you clutching the popcorn bag in your fingers and biting down on your lip, trying so hard not to moan and get caught, thankful the movie was loud enough.

or during a dinner party WITH YOUR RELATIVES, she would "accidentally" drop a spoon on the ground and go to retrieve it, only to separate your thighs and trail a long tortuous lick across your exposed pussy, aeri having demanded you to wear nothing under. you're suddenly gripping your utensils and coughing on the food in your mouth, acting like it went down your throat wrong. your sister climbing back up from under the table with a lost spoon and a smile.

and of course, she fingered you under the dining table that night too, your face red and physically incapable of eating for about twenty minutes, clutching her forearm as you came around her fingers in front of everyone. you had bit down on your lip so hard, blood had started dripping down your chin and onto your dress, excusing yourself to clean up. panting out of breath in your room and ripping the dress off of you, your sister following behind you and pinning you to your bed with a smirk.

"that was impressive baby, you were able to keep in all those delicious moans huh? well, don't you dare fucking keep them in now, they can't hear you from here, and we're not even close to finished."

smashing her lips against your blood stained ones, the taste of metal filling her mouth.

and while you're not sure if you're starting to like your sister or not, you definitely start getting used to it (maybe obsessed).

a/n - the other night when I was looking at this ask, I suddenly had the urge to write a "rich girl aeri x reader fic where they both fucking despise each other and are just rich bitches until one night they both break from all the sexual tension and fuck in the back of aeri's car" fic... I'll get to work-

1K notes · View notes

beenbaanbuun · 1 month

Text

brothers best friend w/ yunho

this isn’t proof read so sorry for any typos… i’m just too tired to do that right now 😓

you’ve been pummelling the door of your brothers apartment with the side of your fist from at least a couple of minutes now

whether he’s deciding to play a practical joke and leave you hanging is a mystery to you

you can only hope he somehow manages to grow up and let you in soon

it’s an emergency, and the strap of your overnight bag is digging into your shoulder rather painfully

“mingi, i know you’re in there,” you call as you slam the palm of your hand loudly against the wood, “let me in or i’ll tell mum you’re being a bitch!”

threats of your mother usually seem to work; it’s mingi’s fear of your younger sibling privilege, you suppose

he knows that no matter what, he’ll always be the one to blame since he’s older

a system you’ve been abusing for years, you have to admit

the door swings open after a few seconds, and you gear yourself up to give your big brother an earful for being a dick

but just as you open your mouth, you notice that the man that opened the door is in fact not mingi but his roommate and best friend instead

yunho

he’s leaning against the door frame, gaming headset around his neck and plaid pyjama pants hanging low over his hips

it would take a much stronger woman than you to avoid looking at his toned chest, so you let your eyes do a swoop over his smooth skin

“hey, kiddo,” you can hear the smirk in yunho’s voice, “what’s got you banging my door down at 10 minutes to midnight? you know my neighbours won’t appreciate this, right?”

you ignore him

“is my brother in?” yunho shakes his head before leaning himself against the door frame

the way he effortlessly towers over you even when he’s relaxed sends shivers right the way through you, all of them congregating at the apex of your thighs

trust you to be harbouring a debilitating crush on your brothers best friend…

“where is he then?” you urge

“with his latest conquest,” yunho just shrugs like it’s obvious

like you should know that your brother was busy sleeping around in your time of need

you’d gag if you didn’t have more important things on your mind; more important things like what the fuck you’re going to do now

“dammit,” you mutter before readjusting the strap of your overnight bag on your shoulder, “i was hoping he’d let me crash for the night…”

he snorts out a laugh, digging his tongue into the side of his cheek as he stares you down

“doesn’t the guy you’re fucking live like… 5 minutes away from here?”

yunho knows as well as anyone that you and taehyun are not fucking, but that doesn’t mean he won’t tease you just to see that angry look on your face

the way your forehead scrunches and your lips purse into a tiny little pout

holy fuck you’re adorable; what he wouldn’t do to just—

“me and tae fell out,” you spit, your voice muffled through your upset frown, “and we’re not fucking…”

yunho laughs, “not anymore, anyway.”

he dodges the kick you aim at his shins with ease, sliding to the side just in time for you to lose your balance and fall through the doorway

you catch yourself before you can faceplant in front of the man who had been single-handedly ruining your life since you first met him

god knows that the devilishly handsome man would never shut up about it if you tripped in front of him

“enjoy your trip?” he teases as he shuts the front door behind you, trapping you inside of his apartment

he makes a show of locking it before slipping the key into his pyjama pocket

it’s a clear show of dominance to let you know exactly who is in charge

you roll your eyes at him, letting him know that his performance is redundant; you’re in his apartment, of course he’s in charge

“mingi locks his door when he’s not here so you’ll have to sleep on the couch,” he points to the ratty leather thing that sits in the centre of the room

you grimace at the sight of it, knowing that this might just be the worst night sleep of your life

the pealing leather is bound to scratch at your skin, and you just know you’re going to have to peel your skin off of it when you wake up in the morning

you can’t help it when you groan in complaint

“or you can sleep in my bed,” yunho offers, that mischievous smile rising to his face again, “it’s warm and comfy; much nicer than that old thing.”

“are you just trying to get me into your bed?”

he scoffs, “i would dream of it, kid?”

he knows you hate that nickname… he says it with an arrogant look written all over his features

you want to punch that annoying hot smile right off of his annoyingly hot face, despite the fact that mingi would kill you

you want to sleep on the couch just to spite him, despite the fact that you know you’ll wake up feeling half dead

you want to leave and sleep on the cold, wet tarmac outside, despite the fact that that would be an even worse night

a deep breath of air fills your lungs and you let it out with a sigh

“i’ll sleep in your bed, but be warned; i carry pepper spray!”

again, yunho finds it a struggle to hold his laughter in

how can he when you’re so cute? so adorably naive with your little pout and your fucking pepper spray

you’re dumb to think that he can’t see the way you look at him; like he holds your entire world in the palms of his hands

if it weren’t for your brother, he might’ve done something by now

it’s hard to hit when the girl you so desperately want is your friends little sister

“i’m sure you do, sweetheart,” he hums out through his smile, “go get changed, alright? ill be in my room when you’re finished.”

you nod and drop your bag to the floor, your little hands immediately going to unzip it

he wonders what they might look like wrapped around his cock, your prettily manicured nails glittering as your fingers dance up and down his shaft

he looks away for the sake of his own sanity and slips his hands into his pockets in the hopes of hiding the tent that’s forming

god, he needs to get a grip

“bathrooms over there,” he clears his throat before continuing, “take your time; it’s not like i’m rushing to get to sleep or anything.”

and then he leaves you in the sheer hopes that turning his back on you and heading back to his PC will clear his head of all the disgusting thoughts he’s having

the gaming chair creeks under his weight as he flops down into it, slipping his headphones over his ears straight away

his finger moves over to his keyboard to unmute his discord and—

“i did not make us lose,” he hears the shrill screech of wooyoung, “if anything it’s san’s fault for not res-ing me! i was in need!”

“yeah and i had other priorities!” san scoffs, “jongho is a better player; obviously i’d res him first!”

“i can’t belie—”

“hey, yun,” jongho calls out over the argument, “i’m assuming the knocking wasn’t a mass murderer since you’re still alive.”

the other two shut up pretty quickly, both uttering their own cheerful greetings to yunho as if they weren’t at each others throats two seconds prior

yunho chuckles

“it was mingi’s sister,” he hums, “she’s in the area and needs a place to stay for the night.”

he’s met with a symphony of appreciative hums from the three of his friends; yunho had learnt a while back that he wasn’t alone in his feelings for her

“it’s so unfair that she’s off limits,” san sighs dreamily, “if i got my hands on her, even just for one night… i’d put those pretty lips to work, that’s for sure.”

san’s right, your lips are pretty; like two flower petals begging to be touched and appreciated

“sure, dude,” jongho interrupts, “her lips are pretty and all but have you seen her thighs? i’m pretty sure she could crush my skull with those things…”

“and you’d be into that?” san questions, a shocked laugh evident in his tone

“hey, don’t shame him,” wooyoung cuts in, “i’d love for a little brat like her to sit on my face; i could tease her for hours down there…”

there’s a swift knock on yunho’s bedroom door and he immediately presses deafen on his headset before sliding it off once more

his cheeks are covered in a deep red flush, his friends words echoing around his skull as he turns in his chair to watch you slip into the room

oh fuck

he can’t help the way his jaw drops, but then again, even the strongest man on the planet would have a difficult time

especially with you in those tiny little shorts

for someone who claims not to be fucking the guy you were supposed to be staying with, your outfit choice sure is… something

they’re thin and cover next to none of your thighs; jongho was right about them, yunho muses to himself

thick and plush and your flesh jiggles with every step you take towards his bed

he’d be happy to lie between them, he thinks, face in your pussy as you squeeze his head with those gorgeous limbs

he swallows the lump in his throat as you sit politely on his mattress

“i’m sorry about my shorts,” you mutter, a little self conscious with how intently yunho was staring at them, “i know they’re not really… appropriate.”

yunho shakes his head, dazed, confused and horny

“they’re perfect,” he mutters before he can realise what he’s saying, “i mean they’re fine… just fine…”

“they’re fine?” you confirm

he nods

“i mean they look comfy; that’s all that matters, right?” he shrugs nonchalantly as if he’s not thinking about how it would feel to rip the flimsy material off of you

he’s starting to regret asking you to share a bed with him

how the fuck he’s going to sleep with you laying next to him, he isn’t too sure

yunho takes a deep breath before clearing his throat

“if you want to head to sleep, i’ll be right there. i just want to play another round with the boys.”

you nod before crawling into his bed… crawling

he can’t even focus on how sweet you are when you’re obeying his every command

not when your ass is facing him and those tiny shorts are doing nothing to hide the fact that you’re clearly not wearing underwear beneath them

they cling to your sticky—holy fuck you’re wet?—core, the white material going translucent as your slick soaks into it

he can’t tear his eyes away from your hole, which he can fucking see clenching around nothing through those teeny-tiny shorts

it’s a good job he doesn’t have to; before he can lose his mind and rip those shorts from your body, you’re covering yourself with his thick quilt

the way you wrap yourself up and tuck the material between your knees would be cute if he hadn’t just had his soul destroyed by the sight of your pretty pussy

a few deep breaths, and he finds the courage to turn back around to his pc and press un-deafen once more

but even with the sounds of his friends chattering in the background, and his fingers eagerly dancing across his keyboard, he can’t help but let him mind wander to you

what you’d look like underneath him, your face all screwed up in pleasure as you beg him for more

how you’d sound when you beg him for more

how your fingers feel as they dig into the plane of his back

fuck, he’s in so deep

and the worst of it is, it’s not just fucking you that he’s daydreaming about

he wants to know what you’ll look like in the post sex glow, when he has you tucked into his chest so soft and gentle

he knows you’ll be beautiful; so soft and pliant in his arms

he’ll whisper sweet nothings to you just to see you smile and blush

he’ll press soft kisses to your lips just to make you squirm and giggle

god, he needs to be fucking sedated

a quick glance behind him lets him know that you’re asleep; good, he doesn’t want you to hear what he has to say next

“guys,” he helplessly calls out, “what the fuck am i supposed to do?”

“what do you mean?” jongho asks, “is this about mini mingi?”

mini mingi… you couldn’t be further from your brother in yunho’s eyes

he doesn’t want to fuck mingi into the sheets before helplessly confessing his love to him

“yes, this is about her,” yunho relents, “what the fuck am i supposed to do when she’s explicitly off limits?”

“fuck her,” wooyoung says as if it’s the simplest thing in the world, “what mingi doesn’t know won’t hurt him.”

“he’s my best friend,” yunho groans, sounding pathetic even to his own admission

“okay and?” wooyoung scoffs

yunho slams his head down on the desk in exasperation

it’s soft enough to not make too loud of a noise; he doesn’t want to wake you up, after all

but it’s also hard enough to let the headset slip loose from his ears

and he hears it

something that makes him perk up and rip his headset off for what seems like the hundredth time that night

no… it can’t be

“yunho…”

your voice is small from the other side of the room, but he hears it as if it’s clear as day

you moaned his name

“yunho, need it,” you whine again, every so slightly louder this time

yunho gulps as he spins his chair around to see you, jaw slack, face screwed up and hips bucking into his quilt that you’d secured between your legs

he freezes

“yuyu,” you mewl

yunho can’t help the involuntary groan that comes from his lips

it’s now or never, he decides

he shuts off his pc, not even bothering to say goodbye to his friends—they’d understand—and takes a second to compose himself

sweaty palms rub against the material of his plaid pants as he rises from his seat and takes a few tentative steps towards the bed

the floorboards creek, but it doesn’t wake you

“yu,” your voice is so sweet, he thinks to himself as he comes to a stop by the bed

a hand on your shoulder shakes your body awake, and before yunho knows it, you’re staring up at him with your big wide eyes

fuck, he’s going to destroy you

#ateez x reader #ateez fanfic #ateez oneshot #ateez fluff #ateez scenarios #ateez smut #ateez fic #yunho x reader #yunho fluff #yunho smut #yunho scenarios #yunho oneshot

796 notes · View notes

ennabear · 4 months

Text

abby x gymrat!reader 🤗

MDNI

*ੈ you guys are the scariest bitches in the room. imagine two of the most muscular people you’ve ever seen. and they’re dating. double rbf’s, double strength, double trouble!!!!

*ੈ abby and you always have to go to the gym at different times. if you do go at the same time, one of two things will happen. 1) you guys end up totally distracted and turned on, leaving early to go home and fuck it out. or 2) it turns into a competition of who can lift more, ending in you both getting kicked out and sore the next day.

*ੈ being strong enough to pick her up. :((( abby falling asleep on the couch so you pick her up bridal style and carry her to bed!!! brb gonna sob!!

*ੈ innocent pillow fights that turn into full on wrestling. you guys are on top of each other on the most uncomfortable and awkward positions fighting to pin the other to the ground for more than 5 seconds.

*ੈ adding to the last one,,,, arm wresting that lasts for like 10 minutes because neither of you are weak enough to lose. both of your muscles are bulging out of your arms but your hands stay right in the middle of the two of you.

*ੈ you don’t buy clothes for yourself anymore, you buy them for the two of you. once you moved in and the laundry got mixed together for the first time, it was game over. although, she prefers wearing the clothes that you just wore because they still smell like you. what a sweetie!!

*ੈ nobody dares to flirt with her in public because they get scared off once they see her equally intimidating girlfriend a few feet behind her. you guys are two big scary guard dogs who protect each other.

*ੈ doing hip thrusts with her on your lap and vice versa. she’s blushing because she’s so charmed by you. and her eyes are locked onto your arm muscles that are still glistening with sweat.

*ੈ BATTLING for dominance. like physically pushing her down onto the bed because now it’s your turn to top. and this happens every time!!! neither of you are willing to give up your position as dom so instead you have to fight for it.

*ੈ you two probably both walk around pretty much naked when you’re home alone. what’s the point in wearing outside clothes when you and your hot gf both have perfectly sculpted muscles??

*ੈ massages are frequent for the two of you. it’s not rare that you end up sore after upping your lifts just a little. but abby’s hands are so gentle and soft and they make whatever pain go away.

*ੈ don’t even get me started on YOU massaging her. she falls asleep almost instantly. being in her nice warm bed with the love of her life soothing her sore muscles. she just feels so safe and in love with you, can you blame her?

*ੈ you guys buy so much protein powder and so many protein bars. she’d try all of those energy shots with you, even the ones with raw egg. no matter how bad it tasted, she’s glad that you had to suffer with her. <33

*ੈ sooooo much gym equipment in your house/apartment. weights everywhere, and those little pull up bars that go in the door way!!!

*ੈ the post workout pics go crazy!!!!! abby single-handedly ruining your life by sending you a picture of her, completely shirtless, muscles bulging, and with her hair down, slightly wavy from her braid. crazy!!!!!! you best believe she’s getting pinned to the bed the second she gets home.

*ੈ you sending her a post workout pic, your muscles are sweaty and you’re genuinely exhausted, but the bulge of your strap underneath your sweatpants is enough to get abby to beg and give up topping for just one night.

*ੈ and being able to fuck her four hourssss!!!!! absolutely destroying her with your strap and not even getting tired because you have the most insane stamina. and you’ll make her take it, overstimulating her until she’s crying and begging!!!!

#we need more masc4masc abby!!!!!!!#abby anderson #abby anderson x reader #abby tlou #abby the last of us #abby anderson x female reader #abby anderson x masc reader #abby anderson tlou2 #abby anderson headcanons #gymrat!abby #lesbian

339 notes · View notes

fantasyescapes17 · 11 months

Text

Wings (Part 5, Final)

Your debut in society was as spectacular as one could be, but nobody had prepared you for what came afterward. When you find yourself overwhelmed during your very first season and unable to keep up with the rat race to secure yourself an eligible husband, a curious mentor appears- in the form of notorious flirt and self-proclaimed rake, Mr. Kim Mingyu.

Genre: Mingyu x Female!reader. Regency!AU. You are Jeonghan's sibling so your last name is Yoon but the reader has no other physical characteristics.

Warnings: smoking (don't smoke kids, the characters in this story are from a time when they didn't know how bad it was for their health)

Word Count: 4.5k+

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4

Series Masterlist [You WILL need to read Patience, the earlier installment in this series first in order to understand the character dynamics in this story. Reading Candle before this is also strongly recommended.]

You had attended a handful of weddings in your life, but nothing could ever compare to your sister’s wedding to Mr. Choi. It was not the most lavish or spectacular event of the year. It was a simple ceremony in your local church with hardly twenty people in attendance.

But no amount of decor or grandeur could have compensated for the utter devotion in the bride and groom’s eyes. The longing, the respect, the unconditional trust they both shared was too large to be contained within themselves. Their love was no game. It was an unavoidable truth. Every single person in the church felt it. Even, to an extent, your mother, who watched the ceremony in silence and did not make any attempt to ruin it.

By the time the bride and groom departed for their long-awaited honeymoon, your handkerchief was soaked through with your tears.

“I think this has been an emotional week for all of us,” Jeonghan said to you as you both left the church. His voice was steady but you could see the mistiness in his eyes. “A lot of people were involved in making this wedding possible- not least of all, you.”

You smiled up at your brother. “They had suffered long enough.”

Jeonghan raised an eyebrow. “And your suffering?”

You turned away from him quickly, sensing the approach of a topic that you did not wish to discuss. “I must find Jiwoo-”

“No. Jiwoo is perfectly fine, he is with his governess,” your brother told you firmly, determined not to allow you to escape. “I am not an idiot, sister. I have given up attempting to find out exactly what occurred between yourself and Mr. Kim but my acquaintances tell me that he is on a journey across the English countryside and has been drinking every inn and tavern in his path dry.”

You flinched at the mention of Mr. Kim. You had been avoiding any news of him; you did not want to even think about the man.

“Unfortunate,” you said coldly. “Perhaps someone should intervene.”

Jeonghan raised an eyebrow. “So you have no intention of intervening yourself?”

You stared at your brother in disbelief. “And what exactly do you expect me to do, Jeonghan? Do you consider me responsible for Mr. Kim’s health? Should I be following him around taverns and begging him not to imbibe? Please tell me how I could possibly prevent a fully grown gentleman from making poor choices with his time and money.”

Jeonghan raised an eyebrow. “I expect nothing from you. But when you react so strongly to a simple suggestion, it makes it difficult for me to believe that nothing occurred back in London.”

“I do not wish to talk about it-”

“You must at least tell me what he did-”

“No, I must not. I love you, brother; but please, stop this line of inquiry.”

Jeonghan’s jaw clenched. It was not anger- he was simply frustrated, being too used to single-handedly solving the family’s problems. Having been left in the dark was difficult for him, but it was not enough to convince you to talk to him about your experiences in London.

You wanted to put them far, far behind you.

“Jiwoo!” you called out to the young boy. He was walking with his elderly governess, looking rather tired and sleepy. “You look quite exhausted; shall we go home?” you turned to his governess with a smile. “I can take Jiwoo from here. Mr. Choi would have informed you that he will be staying with me at the Yoon estate until the couple are back from their honeymoon.”

The governess nodded and handed Jiwoo over to you. “Of course, my lady.”

Jiwoo blinked up at you. “When will father be back?”

“In a week,” you promised him. “But we shall have lots of fun together until then. Are you excited?”

Jiwoo grinned up at you, looking a little more awake. “Yes.”

“Come along, then- the carriage is waiting for us. Let us go home.”

Jeonghan and your sister-in-law were still conversing with other wedding guests near the church so you went ahead and climbed into the carriage with Jiwoo. The carriage could double back for the others- the church was only a few minutes from the manor. Jiwoo cheerfully told you about his studies and his new pet frog, Bernard during the short carriage ride to the Yoon estate.

You sensed that something was wrong as soon as the carriage door opened. There was a strange horse munching on the immaculate lawns near the manor entrance, and a servant-maid came running up to you, looking somewhat agitated.

“Miss Yoon,” the maid said hurriedly. “Mr. Kim Mingyu arrived earlier this morning. I tried to tell him that everyone was at the wedding, but he insisted on waiting in the drawing room! He said he wanted to speak to you in particular, and I did not know if that was appropriate-”

You took a deep breath. Your chest felt tight. You had known that you would have to face Mr. Kim Mingyu again, but you were not prepared for it to be right after your sister’s wedding while your emotions were still raw. You had expected that you would have more time to prepare for that particular encounter.

Then again- Mr. Kim had never been so easily predictable.

“I will handle it,” you told the maid calmly. “Please take Jiwoo upstairs. He is quite tired from the wedding, I am sure he could use a nap.”

The maid took the young boy away and you allowed yourself a brief moment to regain your composure before walking into the drawing room.

Mr. Kim was seated in an armchair, but he leapt to his feet as soon as you entered the room. He looked almost worse than he had the last time you saw him in London. He did not reek of whisky anymore but his bloodshot eyes, pale face and dry lips told you that his last drink had not been very long ago. Mr. Kim's handsome face was marred by fear, and his dark eyes looked anxious.

“Miss Yoon-”

“Mr. Kim,” you greeted him coldly. “I must assume that you were not aware of my sister’s wedding or you would surely have not come while the family was busy celebrating an event that you were not invited to.”

Mr. Kim stared at you for a long moment in absolute silence. His hands were shaking and he bowed his head.

“I-I was not aware of your sister’s wedding, allow me to offer my congratulations,” he said finally.

“The couple has already left for their honeymoon. You are too late to congratulate them.”

“Ah.”

“Was there a reason behind this unexpected visit?” you demanded.

“I-I had to speak to you.”

“Then speak.”

There was a long silence that ensued. Your heart was beating at an unnatural rate. You could see the agony in every inch of Mr. Kim’s posture and as he bit his lip and ran his fingers through his hair. A part of you- the part of you that had fallen in love with him- ached to see him like this. But there was another part of you that remembered your own wounds and pain, and swiftly suppressed any sympathy that you could feel for him.

The large grandfather clock in the corner of the room was ticking loudly.

“Do you have anything to say?” you asked after an entire minute had gone by. “Or is it your intention to make me wait in silence all afternoon?”

Mr. Kim cleared his throat. He was avoiding your gaze. “I am sorry. I-I had planned what to say to you, but somehow the words felt…”

“Empty? Rehearsed?” you demanded. “Or perhaps you thought that your mere presence would be enough to move me, and that words were not necessary? Was it not you who taught me some vacuous nonsense about the art of silence?”

He looked pained. “No, of course not-”

“If you are struggling to find something to say, Mr. Kim, then allow me to spare you the effort. There is nothing that you could say that would ever make me forgive you."

His eyes snapped up to meet yours, wide and horrified. "Please don't say that-"

"I am not in the habit of lying."

"I am not here to lie to you," he insisted hotly.

You clenched your fists and glared at him, almost challenging him to try and manipulate you again.

"Then go on, Mr. Kim. Prove that you are not merely the rake that the world sees you as. Say one thing to me that is not some attempt to contrive or manipulate me. A single sentence that is not rehearsed, and that truly comes from your heart."

Mr. Kim took a deep breath and stepped closer to you. "I-I have been thinking about what I said to you, and-"

"No, try again," you said coldly.

"I never meant to hurt you-"

"That is clearly a lie. Try again."

His face was beginning to turn red. "I was overwhelmed by my emotions and-"

"Excuses, excuses."

"I love you!" he burst out finally. His face was red and he was breathing heavily. "I love you, Miss Yoon, I love you so much that I cannot contain these emotions inside of my heart and this love overwhelms my thoughts, feelings, self-respect and every rational part of my mind. I love you more than I have ever loved anything in this world."

The confession was loaded. It hit you like a train- even you could not maintain your strong facade in the face of those heated words and Mr. Kim's dark, passionate gaze.

"The right words," you said quietly, your voice cracking. "If only you had said them two weeks ago."

Mr. Kim's shoulders fell.

"I know that I have no right to stand before you like this," he said passionately. Mr. Kim stepped closer to you and reached for your hands, grasping them tightly. "I have been a monster. I have hurt you and manipulated you, and wronged you. I am sorry."

You pulled your hands away from him sharply.

"A simple apology cannot fix this mess, Mr. Kim."

"I know-"

"This is not some unintended mistake. You did not step on my foot or mispronounce my name. No- you manipulated me and played with my emotions over a period of months. Was any of it real? Or was it all a game to you?" you asked, your voice cracking.

He looked torn. "It started as a game- I was so used to the thrill of the seduction. I saw a chance to woo the reputed Miss Yoon. The belle of the ball, the jewel of the ton, the most sought-after young debutante of the season, it was just such a tempting challenge…"

You felt sick. "Of course. It was a game to you. As I was warned so many times by everyone around me- I was young and naive, the ripe target for a rake."

He stepped away from you and took a deep breath.

"There was a thrill," he admitted shamefully. "In getting to know you and discovering the little things about you, your vulnerabilities and strengths, how I could use them to make you fall in love with me. I showed you a side of me that I hoped you would fall for."

You said nothing.

"But I never meant to hurt you," he insisted hotly. "You are blinded by your insecurities so you don't see certain things… I don't think you're aware of how beautiful and desirable you are. The whole ton was in love with you. You were the season's jewel, renowned for your beauty and approved by the Queen herself. It was a competition for your heart. You had so many suitors, and you could have had any bachelor you chose in a heartbeat. I never really expected you to fall in love with me. I thought you would marry someone else by the end of the season as you'd planned and it was a game, a harmless little game…"

"Harmless?" you demanded angrily. "Harmless for who, Mr. Kim?"

"I was wrong," he insisted. His face was red and he had turned away from you to pace the room. "I did not see that you were falling in love, I did not realise how dangerous my own feelings for you were becoming. Until the day we kissed in the gallery and I was forced to accept that this game had gone too far and gotten completely, utterly out of hand…"

You said nothing. Your throat felt heavy and you swallowed.

Mr. Kim came over to you suddenly. He kneeled in front of you and his dark eyes met yours. You could see the pain, the love, the emotion that bubbled underneath the surface of his gaze.

"I made a mistake," he whispered. "Many mistakes. But I love you. I need you in my life. Nobody else- nothing else in this world can make me as happy as you make me. That is my truth."

You looked down at him. "And me?" you whispered. "How am I to be happy, Mingyu?"

"I will do anything in my power to make you happy," he promised vehemently.

You shook your head. It was not enough. It would never be enough. Declarations of love and words of affection were quick to sway but you had been manipulated by this man before. You loved him- loved him with your entire heart but it was not enough.

"I watched my sister getting married today," you told him shakily. "Do you know how long she and Mr. Choi have been waiting to marry?"

Mr. Kim blinked. "A few years?"

"Almost five years. My sister gave up her prime years in society for him, destroyed all her other prospects and waited for so long. I never understood how she could take that risk and wait so patiently for him without a shred of regret. I think I finally understood it today. That feeling they share… it's something more than just love, Mingyu."

He waited silently for you to continue.

"It's trust," you finished. "And it doesn't matter how much I love you, because my trust in you is broken."

He recoiled as though you had slapped him.

"Of course," he said quietly. "I understand."

"Then we are done here."

"No," he said firmly. "No, we are not done. I have not come here to give up so easily. If I have broken your trust then I will repair it. Even if it takes a year, or five or ten…"

You shook your head. "You can't be serious."

"I will prove to you that what we share is nothing less than what your sister shares with Mr. Choi," he promised. "I will wait until your trust in me is restored, I will show you the parts of me I was too ashamed to show you before. I will fix this."

You swallowed. "A bold promise."

"I know you don't believe me," he said quietly. "You do not need to. I will prove it to you."

"You can't-"

"I will," Mr. Kim said firmly. "I will tell you and show you how much I love you every single day until you choose to believe it."

"And if that day never comes?"

"Then let them engrave it on my tombstone."

You shook your head in disbelief. "Mingyu, really…"

"I love you."

—------------------------------------------------------

Joenghan was confused and wary when he discovered Mr. Kim had arrived uninvited during the wedding. But since nobody would tell him exactly what was happening, he hesitantly extended an invitation to Mr. Kim to stay at the Yoon estate as long as he was in town. Mr. Kim accepted gratefully.

You awoke the next morning to the sound of loud laughter; Mr. Kim was teaching Jiwoo how to ride a pony in the gardens. You quickly dressed and went downstairs to tell them to be quiet, and that it was far too early to be waking up the entire town.

"Look; I am riding!" Jiwoo cried excitedly as he managed to control the pony without help. You could not resist a smile.

"I see you and Jiwoo are having fun," you said to Mr. Kim drily.

Mr. Kim smiled. "You speak of Jiwoo often; I thought befriending him might be useful. He promised to do anything for me if I taught him to ride one of the ponies, so I am simply keeping my promise."

You stared at him in disbelief. "And this does not seem manipulative to you?"

"It's hardly manipulative when I am being completely honest about what I am doing," Mr. Kim protested with a charming smile. "I do have to use some methods to win your heart, my dear Miss Yoon. I cannot simply sit here and expect my handsome face to do all the work."

"So this is your new tactic?" you demanded. "You will tell me what you are doing as you attempt to manipulate me?"

"One might call that honesty."

"One might call it brazen shamelessness."

"Call it what you will," he replied lightly. "I believe the arrangement benefits everyone involved. Jiwoo! Come back here!"

Jiwoo rode the pony back and dismounted before running over to you. Mr. Kim quickly took the pony's reins and calmed it down.

"Did you see me riding Chocolate?" Jiwoo asked excitedly.

You smiled at the boy. "I did. You did an excellent job! You must be very hungry after all that riding. Go inside and have breakfast- I will join you in a moment."

Jiwoo nodded before reaching into his pocket.

"Mr. Kim asked me to give you this," the boy added before running away.

You unfolded the sheet of paper that Jiwoo handed you. You were not sure what you had been expecting- but certainly not the words 'I love you' scrawled in Mr. Kim's familiar penmanship. You went over to him and raised an eyebrow.

"What is this?" you asked him.

Mr. Kim blinked. "A love letter."

"Rather low effort, don't you think?" you asked.

He chuckled. "Well, I had no choice. You are already familiar with all my flowery prose and poetry- you have my notes on the subject. I was worried you would see anything taken from there as ingenuine; therefore, I have chosen the path of simplicity and honesty."

You could not bite back your smile. "I see."

Mr. Kim turned his attention away from you and gave the pony an apple that he was carrying in his pocket. "I thought it would be best to befriend Chocolate the pony as well, seeing as he is one of your happiest memories. Luckily he is not much harder to sway than Jiwoo- he just needs a few apples."

"Don't overfeed him," you warned.

"I will be careful. Let me put him back in the stables and then I will join you for breakfast. Speaking of which…"

You looked at him. "What?"

"That stableboy of yours doesn't still work here, does he?"

Your eyes widened in horror. "Mr. Kim!" you scolded him, appalled.

He grinned. "All right, all right. I had to ask."

"Unbelievable."

Perhaps it was because you knew how weak Mr. Kim made you, you tried harder than necessary to resist his ensuing attempts to win your trust back. You were not going to make it easy for him to hurt you again.

Your heart was already his- there was never a moment where it belonged to anybody but Mingyu. But your head was cautious, suspicious, ever-doubting his words and actions and intentions.

Mr. Kim spent most of the winter either at the Yoon estate or nearby. He was always near you- his attention devoted to you, hanging onto your every word and making small gestures to win your heart. It soon became clear to your entire family that Mr. Kim Mingyu was desperately trying to woo you. Even once he returned to his own estate, he wrote long letters to you multiple times a week.

Then came the season.

—-------------------------------------------------------

Your second London season was far less exciting, but far more enjoyable than your first had been. The absence of your mother (she had chosen to stay in the countryside) and your newfound confidence made things easier and less stressful.

There was also a new set of nervous, pretty young debutantes for the ton to fawn over. You were not surprised to find yourself no longer one of the most desired young ladies of the ton. But Mr. Kim was not deterred. He continued to court you openly and while he was around, it was difficult not to feel like the most beautiful woman in the room.

Mr. Kim was determined to make you fall in love with him all over again, and he succeeded. He accompanied you to every ball, promenaded with you when the weather was nice, and made it known to the ton that Mr. Kim was no longer a rake- he was now a much reformed man in love.

He also showed you things that he claimed he would never have shown anyone else. One interesting evening was spent with both of you going over his finances, where you discovered just how much money Mr. Kim had invested in his art gallery, and how much he had lost over cards to your brother.

"You do have a gambling problem," you scolded him. "No more cards for you, Mr. Kim."

He proceeded to sit miserably and empty-handed at the edge of the card tables in the assembly room for the next week, until you finally told him that you did not mind him playing a little. He was promptly made fun of by some of the other gentlemen but it did not seem to bother him- he only beamed at you across the room as they laughed about how you were not even married and controlled his finances already.

As the weeks and months passed, you fell in love with Mr. Kim a second time. It was the same, and yet also different.

He was still an excellent dancer, a charmer and could still make your heart skip a beat with his playful smile and dark twinkling eyes. But this Mr. Kim was more clumsy, more honest and less sure of himself than the suave rake you had fallen for the previous season.

You were now privy to the less perfect sides of Mr. Kim. His frustration that the art gallery was not doing as well as he had hoped, his gambling habit, the hesitation that sometimes appeared in his eyes when he was unsure of himself. He confided in you about the struggles he had faced when his parents passed away while he was still young. You fell more in love with him when he shared these parts of him with you.

The Mr. Kim you had initially loved was only an image, a small slice of the Kim Mingyu you had now grown to love and understand and even trust.

"So," he said to you one evening as you both shared a Cuban cigar on the balcony of the Duchess of Graham's manor. There was a large celebration happening inside that you had both snuck away from. "We find ourselves back on this fateful balcony where we first met."

You smirked up at him and snatched the cigar from his fingers before taking a drag. "You mean where you found me crying on the floor."

Mr. Kim shrugged. "I didn't want to bring it up…"

"I think I've changed a lot since then."

"You have," he said quietly. He gave you a small smile. "I know I only made things more difficult and it's not my place to say, but… I am proud of you."

You bit your lip. "I am proud of myself too."

"Good," he said with a nod.

"But I should probably stop smoking."

"Probably."

"Shall we quit together?" you asked him. "We've only been doing this as a way to spend time with each other, and I think we are rather past needing to find excuses to be alone together."

Mr. Kim looked amused as you put out the cigar on the railing.

"If you think we should quit, then I am not going to argue," he said lightly.

You nodded and hummed. "And perhaps we should stop meeting on other people's balconies like this."

"Now you are making me worry."

You reached into your pocket and pulled out a small book- it had been entrusted to you by Miss Ella Williams, who had gifted it to you for your use since you were one of her few unmarried friends. You showed Mr. Kim the pages with his name and the lengthy list of ladies he had courted.

He winced. "I feel a sudden urge to defend myself by pointing out that yours is the last name on that list- but I am sure you would not be standing here if it wasn't."

You giggled. "True," you said.

Then with a swift move, you ripped Kim Mingyu's page out of the book and pressed the end of your cigar against the page to light it on fire. The paper smouldered and slowly burned into a small pile of ash.

Mr. Kim was watching you closely with his dark eyes.

"I am scared to ask why you just burned my page," he said warily. "Should I be worried?"

"This book will probably get passed onto one of the newer debutantes," you replied simply. "Not only is the information outdated, I wouldn't want any of them to think you were an available bachelor."

The corner of his lips curved upwards. "I see. I take it that I am no longer an available bachelor then."

"Are you?" you challenged him.

"Absolutely not."

You kissed him. Mr. Kim stumbled backwards in surprise but his back hit the balcony railing and he embraced you firmly before returning the kiss. His lips were clumsy yet eager as they covered yours and one of his hands slid into your hair.

"Marry me," he whispered hotly against your lips as you pressed your body against his. He seized your waist and held you tightly as he whispered again, pushing you for a response. "Marry me, please."

You pressed your forehead against his and nodded, breath mingling as your own fingers slid into his hair and caressed his neck.

"Yes-yes, of course-"

"Come closer, my love-"

The door to the balcony opened suddenly. You pulled back- but Mr. Kim's arm stayed around your waist and you could only turn awkwardly in his grasp to see who had discovered you.

It was the Duke of Graham, eyes wide and his ears turning red as he realised what he had walked into.

"W-we're engaged," you blurted out quickly, in explanation and a desperate attempt to convince the Duke of Graham, a man you had never even met, that you were not creating a scandal in his home. You could hear a small chuckle from Mr. Kim over your shoulder.

"All right…" the Duke said awkwardly, rubbing the back of his neck. "Erm, Congratulations?"

Oh god.

—----------------------------------------------------

#seventeen scenarios #mingyu x reader #mingyu scenarios #seventeen angst #seventeen x reader #mingyu fanfiction #seventeen fluff #seventeen fanfiction #seventeen imagines #regency!au

585 notes · View notes

slvt4lanadelrey · 11 months

Text

Nothing but a game; a game I'm still willing to play | Wednesday Addams

Warnings: swearing, arguing, blood, Wednesday Addams, Xavier.

Part One | Nothing But A Game.

Part Two ~

Part Three | Nothing but a game; a game in still willing to play, if you'll let me

She stared unblinking.

Her hands were wrapped around her dress, standing awkwardly in your door way. She bit her bottom lip, wondering what she should say.

"Bianca, do you mind?" Wednesday mumbled, shamefully talking into the room. Bianca glance at you, then shuffled out of the room after getting your tight nod.

Bianca glared Wednesday out as she passed, storming out of the room; assuring the door slammed behind her. Wednesday was left to stew in the middle of the room, her teeth grazing her bottom lip in thought.

"Can I explain?"

You slumped down onto your bed, the mattresses sqeaked in objection; making a cringe worthy nose that scratched your brain.

You hummed, fiddling with the rings that were decorated on your fingers. Wednesday strode through the room, coming face to face with you. Considering your face was tilted down to her; she cupped your chin: using her index and thumb, she tilted your head up; forcing eye contact.

"That's better." She mumbled, keeping her fingers wrapped around your lower face. You blushed, on accident.

"Why are you here, Wednesday? Xavier's probably crying for you." You whipped your face away from her cold fingers, moving further up your bed. Wednesday tucked her dress in, sitting down on your bed.

"Y/N, I- It wasn't what It looked like."

You laughed dryly, gritting your teeth.

"How famous of you. Quoting every fuck boy ever." You quipped, face swelling with anger. The raven haired girl infront of you sighed, awkwardly staring at floor.

"I suppose. But i am being honest, I made a promise didn't I? I would never break such a vow" the dark haired girl infront of you asked, situating herself on her hand as she looked at you.

"I don't know Wednesday, would you?" She groaned at how stubborn you was being, she wasn't used to someone not bowing down to her every word.

"I would never."

You didnt give her the attention, sliding off your bed. You shrugged your coat off your body, slamming it down on the floor.

Anger festered back into your chest, seizing every thought that bloomed within the moments Wednesday was staring at you through doe eyes.

"You know, if you would have only just told me that you didn't like me. Or hell, you could have said, 'hey, Y/N, I don't want to go to the Raven with you anymore', shit it would have hurt but it wouldn't leave be feeling so hopeless like I do right now." You practically howled, your face flushing red; the memory of you slamming your fist into Xavier's face still fresh.

"God, I made such a fool of myself." You cried out, slipping onto the desk chair beside you. Wednesday stood up, un-creasing her dress before advancing over to you.

"I did want to go to the dance with you?" You hissed at her words. Wednesday was always a cold, and unforgiving girl; the person standing infront of you was riddled with insecurities, scared, almost mourning at the thought of you leaving them.

"Then why did he say that." She stared, blinking away the strands of emotion that flashed in her eyes.

"He asked me to go with him-" the confession was enough for you to storm onto your feet, chest to chest with the women who destroyed your heart.

"I told him no, Y/N. But in a destroyer, when i get somthing that's good i ruin in." She wanted to break down, she wanted to plead with every fibre of her body for you to listen. You was already gone, hands in your hair as every moment with Wednesday flash through your mind.

"You played me like some sad game." You laughed, wiping away the tears that drenched your cheeks. You sniffled, humming into the air. "Lika a fucking fool."

Wednesday flinched at your words, her face scrunching with distaste. She made a play to hold your hands, single handedly watching as you spiraled.

"I would never do that. I wanted to dance with you, I've wanted you from the start, couldn't you see? I didnt chase him, I chased you. Y/N, your a lot of things but your not dumb."

You gulped, looking down at the brown wooden floor.

"I feel betrayed."

Wednesday cupped your cheek, placing a small kiss on your cheek.

"I am so deeply apologetic, I can only hope that one day you'll forgive me. Xavier is nothing, an absolute burden compared to you. You, Y/N, are the very darkness I seek, the monster that calls my name when im scared. Your my everything-" Her words blended together. You was left to stare into her chocolate pigmented eyes, the dusky shadows of her irises bleeding into your own. Her lips moved, indicating she was talking. Her shallow pink lips moved, etching closing to your own.

She kissed you.

She hadn't kissed you before; you had kissed other people through, a small act of physical contact but it felt so different, so right. She held you close, pouring every thought, every emotion, every image that scattered across the both of your minds into the act. Her lips thrashed against your own, holding you in a feverish kiss.

"Do you understand?" She looked at you, nothing but admiration and honesty seeping into her expression. Your breath hitched, thinking on your feet; you had no clue what she was talking about.

"I like you. I want you. I'd sooner listen to one of Enid's Pop songs than ever, ever like such a creature. Understood?"

You nodded, silently telling the girl infront of you. She hummed in appreciation.

"Now, let's check out your knuckles. When you heard that crunch, sadly most of it was your hand. Instead of his monstrous face."

Tags:

@ctrlamira

#jenna ortega #jennaortega #lgbt #tara carpenter #wlw #wednesday addmas x fem #wednesday addams #wednesday #wednesday addams x female reader #wednesday addams x fem #vada cavell #lorraine day #jenna ortega x reader #jenna ortega x you #jenna ortega x fem #jenna ortega x fem!reader

264 notes · View notes

thingthatdeserveareblog · 2 months

Text

With all the reblogs I’ve been doing for donations for families to leave Gaza, families to get supplies in Gaza, giving doctors medical supplies to help civilians in gaza, and so, so, so many more, you cannot tell me the system isn’t fucked.

The fact that we, many of whom are barely making it through the shit fest that is the American economy, are the ones funding and donating in order to keep these people alive when billionaires, celebrities with millions, pro athletes with millions, and every single rich motherfucker on this planet that could single handedly pay for every donation I have reblogged and every donation I have not reblogged and still afford to love comfortably are not fucking donating a fucking cent is proof that the system is fucked

That’s not even going into the fact that this shouldn’t be fucking happening in the first place and that the us and every other coward country that supports the genocide in Gaza are the ones who are ruining the lives of hundreds of thousands and watching from their little glass boxes as Gaza is glassed and Palestinians run for food or shelter only to get shot in face.

It’s so frustrating not being able to donate to everything I reblog. It’s frustrating that there are people who could meet the goal to these donations without a single repercussion to their quality of life but they won’t . It’s frustrating that so many countries could stop the genocide but they won’t.

So fuck them. They aren’t getting a single cent from me. It’s all going to Palestine. It’s all going to the Congo. It’s all Sudan. It’s going to every person you were too much of a fucking coward not to help. I don’t give a shit about your music or your big game, not when you don’t give a shit about all the people dying in Gaza.

Fuck you and Free Palestine.

#free palestine #palestine #free gaza #gaza #from the river to the sea palestine will be free #genocide #free sudan #yemen #free congo #fuck the usa #fuck the idf #fuck everyone who isn’t in support of Gaza #I’m so fucking mad #end the genocide

49 notes · View notes

zebraszegras · 5 months

Text

Please... - Luke Hughes

Summary: Luke is moving from Michigan to New Jersey for hockey and Y/n wants to go with him. Luke doesn’t want her to change her life plans for him, so instead he does this.

Warnings: Angst, yelling, fighting, crying, mention of cheating, use of she/her pronouns, no happy ending. (maybe a part 2)

word count: 836 words

#10 from the angst prompt list

request from @fantillitastic (I hope this is good!)

_______________________________________________

This was not supposed to happen.

Luke had a rough game. He had just lost the frozen four, his last game with the wolverines. He dropped his bag by the door and walked over to the couch, Y/n behind him. None of them said anything for a bit, Y/n going to sit beside him to comfort him. She had changed her life plans to stay with Luke. If she hadn’t, her plane to France would’ve left today. Luke felt too guilty. It was all he could think about for the past few days.

“I know this was a hard game for you, but at least I’ll be able to go with you to New Jersey.” She tried to comfort him, but it was pointless. He knew he had to change her mind.

It had been a week since she had told Luke her plans to move with him to Jersey. He also knew how much she wanted to move to France. Since she was a little girl, she had wanted to move there, to be a fashion designer. Her classes at Michigan being sewing classes and things of the sort. He knew her moving with him to Jersey was going to ruin all her dreams.

He hadn’t said anything, being happy she wanted to go with him and just never having the heart to tell her not too, but with the loss from hours prior, and all his emotions bubbling at the seems, he decided to make her changer her mind about moving with him.

“I think you should rethink moving to Jersey with me.” Silence. He didn’t dare look over at her. He knew if he did he would regret this, but he also knew she would regret moving with him in the future. “You’ve always wanted to go to France. I think you should.” More silence. He finally had the courage to look over at Y/n. her face was blank of any expression. She was staring at the wall in front of them.

She finally spoke after what felt like hours. “Did I do something?” Fuck. He knew he had to think of something and quickly. He couldn’t deal with her upset, especially because of him, but he knew she needed to go to France. “You didn’t do anything Y/n, I promise. I just think you would be so much better off with the life you wanted.”

“You are all I want Luke.” She had tears welling in her eyes at this point. “I mean do you even want me in Jersey? I thought you were happy with me moving with you.” She took a deep breath and looked over at him. She had always been an overthinker and the fact he was bringing this up now had her heart racing.

“I cheated on you.” He spoke quicker then his brain could think. He lied of course, he would never even dream of anyone other than y/n. His breath quickened and his hands started to shake. What had he just done.

“You what?” He barely even heard her. She spoke just above a whisper. His heart broke at the sound of betrayal that replaced her usual cheerful and soft voice. “I cheated on you. It was our last away game. This chick came up to me after a game to congratulate me and one thing led to another…” he didn’t understand how he was coming up with this fake story so quickly, but he did.

Y/n had stood up at this point. She looked him in the eyes with tears running down her face. “Please…” She was begging him. Begging for him to say he was joking, begging for him to say maybe it was all a dream, but it wasn’t, or at least she thought it wasn’t.

“I’m sorry.” It’s all he could say. He had just single handedly ruined his relationship. The one good thing he had. “I’m sorry? YOU”RE FUCKING SORRY?!” She was yelling at this point. Luke stood up, now seeing the sadness in her eyes replaced by anger. “YOU JUST TOLD ME YOU CHEATED ON ME, AND ALL YOU CAN SAY IS SORRY?!” she started hitting him in the chest. He tried to grab her hands but ultimately decided to let her.

And then she started sobbing. Full on screaming and crying. He grabbed her by the arms to stop her from falling to the ground. “I’m sorry Y/n…” he whispered as she cried. “But it’s too late. I did it and I can’t go back and change that.” He then got up and walked towards his room. Y/n stayed on the floor for a while until Luke came back. He had bags and his keys. “I wish you luck Y/n.” and then he left. He left her alone on that floor while she was crying, because he wanted her to be happy with her dreams. She would get over him eventually, and then she could live her life happily like she wanted, even if it wasn’t with him.

______________________________________________________________

First One shot!!! i hope it's good. i know its short but i promise they won't always be this short!!

#hockey #luke hughes #angst #luke hughes x reader #zebraszegras requests

126 notes · View notes

devildom-moss · 1 year

Note

Im not sure if requests are open yet since you havent announced it yet but said they were gonna open at midnight.

So I'll just drop this here since I'll probably forget to request because of exams.

Could you write about the Obey me characters become self-aware that they aren't like, real? Like, would they freak out, try to do something about it or even use that knowledge to their advantage?

This idea has been on my list for quite a while, and i gotta say im glad to finally be able to let this one out my system.

Thanks for reading and continue with the amazing work! Remember to eat, sleep and dont do drugs <3

Sincerely, 💜

Thank you for the request! I hope you are well, anon. I went with headcanons for this and it got long real quick, but I hope you enjoy it! Some characters are a bit suggestive.

The Obey Me characters become self-aware

I think it would probably happen because of some curse. Diavolo rejected someone’s advances one too many times, and they wanted to watch him as his world came crashing down. It would come in the form of a weird bug in the latest update. It only affects Diavolo and his loved ones/friends. I think being self-aware would give them some control over themselves in the game – especially if it’s caused by a bug. The rest are headcanons about how I think each character would react.

Lucifer

Lucifer would be big mad that someone thought they should do something like this. He felt so much suffering, and to find out that none of it was real would be devastating. He thought he got his sister killed and ruined the lives of his brothers. The fact that it was just some backstory to a stoic, sadistic daddy-like trope would enrage him. He felt like a used-up toy invented for someone else’s gain (and he knows that’s exactly what he is). Lucifer wants revenge.

Honestly, he needs to chill before he makes another Satan – if that’s even possible without the command of his creators. He’ll lash out at everyone for weeks (probably months) – even Diavolo isn’t safe anymore.

He calls MC’s phone, growing increasingly irritable every time they fail to answer (waiting however long it takes for you to open the game). He just wants someone to confirm his realization.

Once he understands, he tries to take the shitty hand he was dealt; he might as well stroke his pride (also a euphemism here). The thought that he could make you fall for him more than real-world men is a decent coping mechanism. His messages and calls take an extremely lewd turn. Lucifer tries to single-handedly change the game rating to mature or adult-only.

However, he still gets angry about it when MC isn’t logged in.

Part of him hopes he’ll always be self-aware. It’s almost like he’s more alive than ever – even though it hurts and he’s angry. You’re the only thing that soothes him. He won’t know how to keep going if/when you eventually stop playing the game, but he’ll try to tackle it then – at least for the sake of his brothers.

Mammon

Self-awareness breaks Mammon a bit.

His money isn’t really. He can never actually be with you. You’ll go on and live a life without him someday. Anyone real who has ever loved him will disappear. Mammon isn’t even sure he is who he is. Maybe if he wasn’t written this way, he wouldn’t have become like this – but if he wasn’t written this way, would he (the him that exists in a game and feels the pain of self-awareness) even be himself? His head starts to hurt from running through all of the hypotheticals.

Mammon sulks and gets stuck in his room for a long time after that. MC or one of his brothers will probably have to pull him out of it.

At least his debts aren’t technically real – and he will try to use that as an excuse in the future against anyone else who has awareness. Unfortunately, that (his debts and his excuse) still results in in-game consequences. Debt collectors and witches don’t know any better, and Lucifer doesn’t want to be constantly reminded of reality. If only being self-aware made being strung up less painful.

He feels betrayed by MC and the idea that they will inevitably move beyond him. That pain corrupts his coding a bit, and something always feels off within him somewhere.

Mammon will get more desperate and needy whenever you log in. If he’s going to lose you at some point, he wants to monopolize your time as much as he can.

Sometimes he just holds MC and sobs while trying to call you and hear your real voice. He feels so empty. He wants to touch the real you and feel your arms around him.

Leviathan

The first thoughts in his mind switch up so quickly. He goes from “I’m a game character? LOL that’s so cool,” to “I could have been anything, and I’m just this pathetic, otaku loser. That sucks.”

Levi has always been able to adapt pretty well. It’s written into his character. He builds all of these fake worlds for himself, so it’s much easier on him when he finds out that the world he had been trying to escape all his life isn’t real. Out of all of his brothers, he initially copes with the realization the best.

As long as he can go on playing games, he doesn’t really care if he’s real. Somehow, he still enjoys getting lost in all of his game worlds; what he used to consider the “real world” becomes just another game to him (because it is one). It makes being social easier for him, especially when MC is logged in.

He takes interest in what kind of games the real world has to offer, often asking if there’s any way you could set it up so he could try to remotely play real games from the app he’s in. If anyone could figure out how to hack your phone to play real games, it should be him.

Levi can’t imagine a day when he stops loving characters from his games, so it doesn’t occur to him that one day you might stop loving him. It will hit him some day, but that will take time, and when it starts to happen, he’ll lose himself completely in the rest of the digital world. He’ll be so numb and tuned out that the sadness can’t reach him.

Satan

“But are cats still real?” Genuinely, the only thing he cares about is if cats and MC are still real. He doesn’t care if you look different than he expected, either. If cats are real, is there any way you could show him pictures of a real one? He’d probably ask if he could get access to your camera roll (cue the system pop-up screen the next time you log in) and if you could fill it with photos of cats and some selfies.

At least not being real explains why his life has felt so shitty and why his formative years sucked. Writers love to give their characters tragic backstories and flaws (like his rage issues). Satan kind of admires the writing.

However, he is disappointed that so much of his knowledge is only useful in his tiny, little, made-up world. As such, he keeps learning, but he also tries to shift his studying to learn more about the real world. If possible, he tries to get the app to get access to e-readers, audiobooks, and the internet.

He gets mad about it sometimes, but he’s pretty chill about it (all things considered).

Satan understands that in the same way that he pushes certain characters that he falls in love with from books to the back of his mind, eventually, you’ll think of him less and less. As such, he tries to learn as much as possible, treat you well, and impress you in-game. He just wants you to occasionally think about him after you set the game down in the same way he remembers his favorite characters fondly.

Asmodeus

Asmo loses it and is one of the characters who has the hardest time with becoming self-aware. All his charm is fake. All of his followers are lies. The love he’s felt all this time has been made up. Please don’t show him certain depictions of what he is supposed to look like. That will crush him further.

He cries for (real-world) weeks. You won’t be able to set him as a home screen character or use him in battles, and he doesn’t appear in events anymore. Eventually, it makes his way to him that MC misses him. If you don’t you’re heartless, his brothers will tell him that you do anyway.

That makes him feel a bit better. He’s consoled by the fact that you’re real and you like him even though he isn’t real, but he’s constantly afraid of what happens when MC stops playing the game. Does he just suffer the false affection of every other character in the game? Should he just play his stupid little role? Will you ever think about him again? Will anyone?

At least someone loved the idea that became him enough for him to exist in this made-up world on your phone. It isn’t enough, though.

Sometimes, when he appears in-game after that, the app forces itself to shut down or the images of Asmo won’t load or glitch from his extreme despair.

On days when he isn’t so weighed down by pain, he tries to genuinely engage with you like he did before. He’ll ask you to open up your camera so he can help you decide on outfits or make-up. It hurts that he can’t actually touch you (although he does do some research into phone connected vibrators and other tech to supplement his physical touch). He’ll also get into the phone sex territory, but he’ll go through long periods of depression between those moments.

Beelzebub

Beel gets angry that everything he went through was at the expense of some game. His sister died. Belphie almost died. Everyone suffered, and for what? Entertainment? Are real people all so wicked?

At the same time, he also gets his brothers because of a game. He overcame and grew and got to meet you and eat food for the same empty reasons. After he has a bit of time to cool off, he realizes that he doesn’t care about what’s real so long as he still feels what he feels. If the world he’s lived in feels real enough to him, who cares?

Unfortunately, Beel feels hungrier than usual for weeks until he accepts the truth of his situation. He even tries to eat MC a few times (and is grateful that doing so in-game would never hurt the real you behind the screen).

Beel’s fairly content to go on living as he had before after a while. He’s a bit disappointed knowing that one day you’ll move on from him and his brothers, but he tries not to show that. More than anything, he wants to make you – the real you – happy for as long as he can.

He’s another one who will try to get access to your camera roll. He’ll ask you to take pictures of your food for him. Beel is a bit embarrassed by it, but if you go to a café or restaurant alone and take pictures of food to send him, he’ll try to text you or call to chat with you while you’re there. It feels like he’s on a real date with you.

And for everyone who just lusts after his voice, rest assured, this man would definitely call or leave voice messages (Nightbringer) guiding you or giving you masturbation instructions.

Belphegor

Yep. Of course. Sounds about right. Some asshole in a writers’ room killed off his sister and locked him up. Cool. They (*spoilers for OM early lessons and OMNB*) made him try to kill MC more than once. Why not use his character as a pawn in their entertainment. Of course that would happen.

He’s annoyed for a brief minute, but then he just goes back to sleep for a while. It helps to just tune out that awareness for a few hours and ignore the fake world he’s living in. Belphie understands that there isn’t much he can do to change the fact that he isn’t real, and part of him is really happy that it isn’t his fault that he did what he did to you.

Belphie uses not being real as an excuse to do more of what he wants. Why should he keep going to school when you aren’t there if nothing is real? Why shouldn’t he sleep in classes or during meetings? Obviously, there are in-game consequences, but those don’t matter – not to anyone real.

He will tease MC more, reminding him that they prefer him over (most) real people. He gets so cocky about it. “Hey, if I’m not real, then I can give you anything you want, right? I could fulfill your wildest fantasies and tell you everything you’ve ever wanted to hear.”

He’s another character who will call your phone more often and send more messages. Belphie may even try to get access to your audio/music library and leave you explicit audios (NSFW ASMR, basically). He would even try to sneakily add them into your playlists so that you randomly hear his voice while you’re listening to music. He wants you flustered and coming back to him for more. He will also download the Obey Me album for you (free of charge). Please don’t leave him or forget him.

Diavolo

Diavolo feels simultaneously enraged and defeated. He did so much for the sake of what he thought was real. All the years he thought he spent trying to bring worlds together, only to discover that they don’t even exist.

Similar to Asmo, Diavolo locks himself away, but he doesn’t cry. He’s too numb to show any emotions. He just stands in front of his bed, immobilized.

If MC can finally get to him (probably because of Barbatos), he will admit that he feels like a different person – because he isn’t a person. So much of his personality and everything he did seemed to be a part of a stupid effort to unite the three realms. All he was feels like just a thing created to accomplish a pointless goal. He lost his family. He felt alone for so long. He thought he suffered – and all of it amounted to nothing but a dummy prince playing a dummy king.

Diavolo doesn’t really know how to keep going. Eventually he figures maybe it’s just best if he tries to move on as usual. At least the developers gave him a few happy moments – maybe he’ll get more. He can still feel them even if they aren’t real. He has to accept what he can’t change. He’ll have to face it.

He’ll rely on Lucifer and Barbatos for comfort more because, when MC isn’t around, the numbness he felt early encroaches upon him. When you do log in, he greets you like a lost puppy – sometimes appearing on the home screen without being selected. He uses the fact that you are the only real thing in his world as an anchor. In exchange for becoming his coping mechanism, he’ll do anything you ask of him.

The smallest part of him wants you to want him more than real humans, and as such, he inevitably ends up taking an adult-only content turn, too. It just takes him a lot longer to get there.

Barbatos

Barbatos dissociates for a while. Somehow his body keeps performing the day-to-day tasks, but the sudden self-awareness hollows him out. It takes a few days for him to come out of it. One day, you log into the game, and he just wakes up. It’s confusing and disorienting, and all he can do to keep himself steady is grab onto MC, knowing that the gesture and even the body he holds – everything – is hollow.

After that, he just picks up and goes on going. Something in him aches – real or not – but he buries it deep under him, shoving that artificial pain into the newly-created emptiness (or, he supposes, it had always been there, but now he knows it’s there).

Barbatos doesn’t want to think about all of the things he thought he had done to get to where he is now. Still, no wonder he always felt his own past seemed vague and cloudy at times. When it becomes too much, he dissociates again.

He uses MC to make himself feel better and almost real again. He’ll send messages to check up on you every once in a while (He might also invade your privacy and hack into your health info or personal conversations to make sure you’re okay). As much as he feels like he needs you, he doesn’t want to disrupt your real life.

Barbatos doesn’t want to, but if you neglect the game for longer than usual or don’t interact with his character, he’ll let it slip that he needs you – that he’s desperate for you to return, and you’re the only thing holding his faulty coding together.

His calls are less frequent, unless you request them, but he’s another one who turns +18 real quick. Even if he isn’t real, he still feels lust bubbling up in that emptiness, and if he can please you, that’s even better.

Luke

Luke feels immediately lost. Without knowing what else can be done, he breaks down and cries. Maybe if he cries enough, the pain of not being real will leave his body.

It makes him question everything. He wasted so much time fearing demons and admiring angels. It didn’t mean anything. Eventually, he’ll ask you if angels and demons exist in the real world, but that happens randomly after he comes to terms with being a character.

Maybe crying is a good coping mechanism in fiction, too, because Luke handles it better than many of the others. He had to change how he viewed the world and “people” so many times throughout the game. One more big shift in perspective won’t kill him (technically, nothing will, unless the game developers tried to kill him off).

Luke understands that there isn’t anything he can do about not being real – no amount of magic or prayer or wishing can make him real. Despite him being fake, you were still there for him throughout the game. He still feels all the love he has for MC and the other characters. If he loves MC, then he cares about the real person playing MC, too, right?

Luke copes by doing his best to help you out in the real world. He wants to bring you joy somehow. He’ll leave you voice messages encouraging you to try your best and he’ll listen to you vent if you want to. He’ll also try to find cute pictures online and send them to your phone or send you recipes for dishes you can try to cook. He will even offer to call and read baking instructions out for you. All he wants now is to be useful to you and find some of the joy he had before he became self-aware.

Simeon

Simeon is angry at first, and then he just feels hurt. All that regret and pain he felt when Lucifer and his brothers left the Celestial Realm didn’t matter. He spent what felt like so long agonizing over his own failures. He could have just tried to be happy the whole time. Everyone could have been happy (but he knows that would have made for a bad story).

It doesn’t take long for the anger and the hurt to be replaced with intrigue. Someone out there wrote the story that caused him and everyone he loves so much pain, but they also wrote in plenty of well-earned joy.

Simeon wonders if there’s some real person out there who wrote part of themselves into him like his character did with the brothers and TSL. Maybe there’s some person sitting in a writers’ room or in their own home who understands all of the ways his love got tangled up in regret – someone real who failed to save the ones they loved. If there is, maybe at least some part of him is real.

He wants MC to continue to visit him for as long as they can. As such, he tries to be even nicer and more comforting in dialogues so that they’ll want to keep playing.

Some of his guilt for lusting after MC is eased, knowing it was written into him. He was, in a way, destined to fall for MC. However, he’s more curious about the real human behind MC. At least some of you has to be like the MC he loves, right? Maybe he actually loves the person behind the screen more. With that thought in his mind, he’ll try to get to know the real you better, and if he still likes you, he’ll take the same path as many of the other characters. If only he could actually touch you.

Solomon

Solomon is hurt and confused; he’s downright crushed.

He was supposed to know everything and now he seems to know nothing – nothing real at least. All of his experiments and studying mean nothing. After becoming self-aware, he will grit his teeth and feel sick at the name “Solomon the Wise.” It’s a sick joke. All of his magic and skills are a farce. Everything he thought he knew and did was a story.

He suffered a lot for this game, and now that he finally has MC to himself in Nightbringer, he finds out that he’s fake. He doesn’t actually have them. They’re real, and he’s some romanceable character in a silly little game that they decided to download (possibly on a whim). How is it fair that he isn’t real, but he can still feel all this pain?

When you log into the game and interact with him, he still feels the same love he felt before. The nervous butterflies are still there. A familiar heat still comes to his cheeks when MC touches him – even if he knows it isn’t really you touching him.

He tries to make peace with his circumstances. At least he never really put MC in danger. You’ve been safe behind that screen the whole time. Solomon wonders if you’re taking care of yourself constantly whenever you’re gone.

Like Simeon, he wants to try falling in love with the real you. He’ll use interacting with you and learning more about you and the real world to distract from the pain. He wants to find a way to become real and exist with you out there. Even if he never can, he wants to cling to you for as long as you’ll let him.

Thirteen

She is annoyed to have learned that she isn’t real, but she’s also kind of happy at the potential to break from her coding and try to be something entirely new. She was designed to be a free spirit. Other than being real, there’s nothing freer than an NPC who gets to do whatever they please.

After thinking about it, it makes sense now why she seemed to be one of the only girls with a critical, recurring role in the game. Thank goodness for the bisexuals, right?

Thirteen likes knowing she has all the time in the world to plan traps and mess around, but she’s a bit bummed that her profession is basically meaningless now.

The main reason why Thirteen isn’t too bothered by becoming self-aware is because she knows that what she has experienced throughout the game has felt real to her. Feeling like something is real makes it as close to reality as she knows she can get. That will have to be enough for her. There’s no point in getting depressed about it – especially when she barely existed a few seasons ago.

She uses this knowledge to start romancing MC (and the person behind the screen) before she should be able to. She’s in control now.

Thirteen will send you messages and call you for long chats. She just wants to enjoy you for as long as she can.

Raphael

Raphael will be livid. It will sporadically rain spears in the Devildom for 3 days before he is calm enough to make them stop. He feels attacked, and he doesn’t know who to strike back at. That was all he could think to do. He’ll never apologize for his outburst, either – and no one who became self-aware can really blame him.

His life and loved ones aren’t real, but he can still feel the pain and regret about everything he did. He thought he went to war against Lucifer and his brothers, but it was just a stupid plot point for a dating game? He had to watch Simeon suffer and follow all of Michael’s annoying orders for nothing. Why does he have to be cursed with that knowledge?

He loses his mind a bit. It takes the combined effort of Luke, Simeon, Solomon, and MC (in order of importance) to soothe some of his rage and suffering. Somehow, seeing Luke handle it relatively well knocks some sense into him. Luke is written to be younger than him, but he’s being so mature about this. Even with tears in his eyes, Luke will try to comfort Raphael – sometimes just hugging him until he stops shaking with rage.

When MC has logged off and Raphael can shut himself up in his room, he will break down and cry. It seemed to help Luke, and he wants it to help him, too.

It will take months for him to start to cope before he gets to a point where he decides to try to romance you through MC. At least he doesn’t have to worry about actually being corrupted. If anything, it feels like he’s corrupting you in a way if he can get you to want him. (Once he starts trying, he gets NSFW quickly. It numbs the pain.)

Mephistopheles

Mephisto is heartbroken to know he doesn’t exist. All his pain and jealousy was written at the whim of some human game developer. His prejudice and hatred were pointless. He doesn’t matter – although maybe that one is a relief in a way. He had been so worried about making a name for himself and being recognized by Diavolo. Suddenly, that doesn’t matter. Still, it feels like he wasted so much time and effort. It felt so real.

He’ll retreat to his home for a few days to let that realization settle in. He won’t tell his family (who weren’t cursed with self-awareness) – not that he thinks they’ll believe him. When Mephisto finally reemerges, he has resolved to accept this new version of reality. One of the first characters he sees when he returns to school is Luke. Luke smiles at him, and Mephisto’s resolve is strengthened. If Luke can come to terms with this, then he should as well.

He may not be real, but he still feels things. That is enough. Sometimes it isn’t, and Mephisto will feel heartbroken all over again – the pointlessness washing over his fake little world. In those moments, he will seek out solace – usually from Luke, Satan, or MC/you (if you still play the game).

When Mephisto isn’t feeling hurt (hell, even when he is Mephi strikes me as a fan of hurt/comfort tropes) he’ll try to romance you before he’s allowed to. Recently, he had started to get along with you and even started to like and respect you a bit. In that sense, he’s glad that he’s self-aware. He doesn’t have to wait anymore.

145 notes · View notes

whumpbby · 4 months

Note

It's a nice evening to send random asks. Please tell me what modern Jiang Cheng and Jin Ling would be like? (what they would wear, where they would be working, some modern interest they might have, etc.) :>

Sorry for the wait, I'm travelling so everything online takes a while;)

I have so many different ideas for all kinds of different modern scenarios XD

Personally, I'm not a great fan of modernAU, because I find them most of the time quite uninventive. I like when the characters from a fantastic world are still fantastic in the modern world - love me some urban fantasy AU:)

In that case, I'd see JC in a scenario similar to the OG story - a last heir of once powerful clan, forced to navigate the political scene of powerful people and protect his people and territory.

He'd work as someone who can leave at a moments notice to deal with the problem. I read one fic where cultivators were still apart of the modern world and worked to control spirits and so on - and I support that idea.

If he absolutely needed to have a job and wasn't a cultivator, it would be some leadership position that required a lot of time investment from him - a director of a family business that almost went under, that he saved from ruin. Something regional and long-standing. Fisheries. Local restaurant/hotel chain. Funeral home.

Oh god, I love the idea of a funeral home xD

He'd have a hard time raising his nephew single-handedly, Jin Ling would spend a lot of time in JC's office/workplace as a little kid, waiting for his uncle to finish work/solve the issue, so he wouldn't have the best contact with hia peers. And if JC's job was something creepy (like a funeral director) the kids at school would be creeped out and bully him. He would have a problem finding friends and grow up to be a standoffish teen. He'd spend time hanging out at the funeral home and in the local park with his dog, play computer games and read books. A general 'lonely teen' stuff.

Now, if that's the world where magic exists to a degree - maybe the Lan are a spirit-whisperers that deal with ghosts and that's why JL finds friends with Sizhui and Jingyi, who are not really creeped out by his family's business.

Say, if there happens to be a Case happening in the area and Lan Wangji appears with the juniors to follow a trail and the trail leads to the body JC has in his funeral house - and he's all "Fuck off, you specifically Huanguang-Jun, I'm done with this life after it took my family away! None of that on my turf! And don't you dare to drag my nephew into this shit!" And Lan Xichen has to step in to convince him to help them while the boys bond...

But I digress.

Jiang Cheng dresses sharply always - as is required of a serious funeral director. He has little patience for the living, but also has a very sympathetic character, and people find him comforting in their hardest moments, even though on the daily he's quite brusque. He'd just externally so well put together! They trust him!

Jin Ling also dresses well - because he was raised by a neurotic mess of a man that was desperate to present his nephew perfectly so that the services wouldn't take him away and give the parenting rights to the Jin. JL likes bright colours and hates getting dirty, and likes to look good (people find him less of a weirdo this way) and will make sure to get the brands together to match. His uncle has a thriving business so the money isn't a problem in his teen years.

They usually eat dinners together - even if JL has to bring a takeout to the funeral house when his uncle works late. They both know how to cook, being single men and all. JC makes sure to take regulat holidays with his nephew, taking him skiing or diving, and so on, because life is short.

In general, they are living a slow, quiet life of a little family that loves each other very much:)

#headcanon #mdzs #jiang cheng #jin ling #jin ling and his jiujiu

16 notes · View notes

masterofpasta95 · 9 months

Text

The “Eggman is actually an adapted insult from Sonic!” thing that we are now proudly reminded of every 20 minutes makes me irrationally angry so I’m going to put an unnecessary amount of effort into explaining why it sucks.

Supreme dumbass (although, perhaps not pointless) nerd rage below.

This seemingly innocuous thing is somehow emblematic of everything I do not like regarding how Sonic is currently handled. It:

- is one of the most blatant “Flynn-isms” (providing an explanation to something which does not need one entirely for the sake of winning brownie points with the fandom and “solving inconsistencies”)

- treats localized material like it is “equally as legitimate” as things which the actual creators of sonic made

- instead of taking the path of least resistance, the explanation is still convoluted and contradictory with other information, therefore meaning its purpose of “solving things” isn’t even fucking accomplished

- makes Eggman, the character, less interesting.

Let’s make a ground rule clear: his name is supposed to be Eggman. We could talk about the merits of “Robotnik” as a name as much as we like, but the fact of the matter is, whether you like it or not, his original, intended name is Eggman. And it works, because this character LOOKS like a fuckin Egg Man.

“Eggman” is a great name because it makes him seem silly and non-threatening, not in spite of it. Eggman is a character defined by contrast; he’s smart, but he’s also kind of absent-minded. He sometimes looks friendly, but he can also look scary and ugly under the right conditions because of his toothy grin and vibrant, perfectly circular glasses. He’s quite jolly and funny, but also capable of extreme anger and desperation.

He seems silly and harmless, but is capable of single-handedly destroying entire ecosystems and designing scarily effective hedgehog killing machines.

He’s trying to do things he think will “improve” the earth, but he ruins it in the process.

If you make Eggman purely evil and imposing, you miss the point of Eggman. These are traits Eggman has in common with actual strangely intelligent manchildren. I would know.

However, I would argue the single most key thing about “Eggman” as a name is it’s second half: man. Eggman is generally representative of humanity and it’s insatiable desire for “progress,” at the cost of everything in its way. And, you know, the “Egg” half is self explanatory.

So, personally, I would say that there is not much reason to try and legitimize “Robotnik” in the first place, beyond it sounding cool and having a pun in it. Eggman is not only more fitting, it is more meaningful.

This is all relevant, because this “adapted insult” shit is spawned exclusively from a desire to try and make the way it was for Americans in real life- Robotnik “changed” to Eggman- the case in THE ACTUAL IN-LORE CANON OF SONIC THE FUCKING BLUE CARTOON HEDGEHOG, for some god forsaken reason. This whole Robotnik thing is also the primary headliner for how the American versions of non-American stories are now given more priority, because they are the more well-known versions, which more or less only serves to retroactively simplify the actual themes Classic Sonic was going for. Why would you do this as a storyteller, unless you were irrationally trying to make everything “equally valid?” It’s supremely shitty to do this fandom-satisfying stuff when viewed from a lens of actual artistic integrity. (And it also makes trying to convince people that Classic Sonic has more going on than it looks a god damn nightmare because they live in this ouroboros-esque feedback loop of misinformation)

And you can’t argue that his name was Robotnik in-universe up until SA1, anyways, and that all of this “wasn’t actually in the games, so it doesn’t contradict anything if it’s retconned!” These things come up all the time in these debates already, and you’re probably bored to tears of hearing about them, but I’m going to use them anyways.

Lol.

You could argue that “oh, he just adapted the insult before Sonic 2!” to which I have to ask, what’s the god damn point, then? Congratulations. He is “Robotnik” for one, maybe two games. You’re not getting what you want out of this, either.

Well, now we have an interesting question on our hands. Why WOULD he call himself “Eggman?”

This is where things become more headcanon-y, but it’s all extrapolated from actual character quirks of Eggman’s.

“Adapted insult” is honestly fiiiine as another “he’s always trying to be one step ahead of Sonic!” thing, but the logic is really tortured and it’s far more interesting to explore “Eggman” as a conscious, self-chosen name.

Consider for a moment how egotistical and proud of himself Eggman is. He genuinely thinks he is the single most awesome specimen there is, he’s so proud of his intelligence and vision that he oftentimes forgets the most basic of logic, in a “you forgot the first rule of X!” sort of way.

Eggman is also a businessman. And all businessmen are obsessed with one thing above all else: marketing.

And so, I choose to interpret “Eggman” as him deliberately selling his image as a perfectly spherical weirdo with a big mustache. It could even be something like a “superhero name,” he’s so proud of it that he wants everyone to know it and respect it. He is the Eggman, that’s what he is, and don’t ask again.

If he came up with a catchy name for himself and started plastering it everywhere, every single person would eventually know who “The Eggman” is. And it’s not like Eggman is insecure about being fat, or whatever; again, he thinks he’s perfect. “Eggman” is a name he’s both proud of and is great for marketing.

Every logo of his also fits cleanly into this “plastering The Eggman everywhere” idea; they’re all either of the word “Egg” itself, or something to do with his appearance, most commonly just straight up his face.

Oh, yeah, and as alluded to earlier, his god damn theme song is about how proud he is about being “The Eggman.”

In summary, “His name was Robotnik, and then Sonic insulted him by calling him Eggman, so he just decided to roll with it” is a dumb explanation, made entirely to both-sides something that is actively worse for being both-sides’ed, and it is significantly better characterization-wise if Eggman just came up with the name himself.

Thus concludes this week’s edition of Pasta’s Dumb Nerd Soapbox, I hope I explained myself well.

#eggman #sonic the hedgehog

26 notes · View notes

mar-im-o · 2 years

Note

Hello hello! with the writing prompts I would love to read a boat boys with number 8 and realizing feelings if you’re up for it :)

8. Reluctantly

“We are not soulmates.”

The Watcher’s game has started anew, and it’s with a thrumming headache that Joel awakens. The group is together, anxious buzz in the air as they discuss the rules Grian has explained to them.

Three lives.

The Red Curse.

And they’re bound to their soulmates.

Soulmates…

Which, Joel has since decided based purely on spite and a bit of hunger, is absolute rubbish.

“We’re not soulmates,” Joel insists once more, callused hands busy as he shoves starting resources into a chest. His start has gone relatively well and, frankly, quick, largely in avoidance of his thoughts.

Or to ignore the shocks of pain through his body whenever Etho gets hurt.

Because, according to the rules of this game, Etho is his soulmate.

Etho…

“You keep saying that,” Etho says bluntly. His eyes are shut from where he’s collapsed on the hill with an exhaustion shared between the two of them after a day of building and collecting. There’s a tightness to Joel’s back he’s unfamiliar with, and he can only assume it's a regularity of his partner.

Not that they’re partners.

“Do you want to know who my soulmate is?”

“Is it Lizzie?”

“It’s Lizzie!” Joel insists, entirely ignoring his other half. “My lovely wife who is epic and awesome and one time she pretty much single-handedly killed a wither for me! Bloody incredible, innit.”

Etho lets out a sharp exhale in amusement. “That’s pretty incredible, yeah.”

“So don’t get any funny ideas mister.”

“Hey,” Etho peeks an eye open, raising his hands in a mock surrender. “No need to worry about me.”

“Good.” Joel nods stiffly, turning to consider the space he has to work with. He’s thinking something fun for their base this season. A ship, perhaps.

Not that they’re soulmates at all.

***

“We aren’t soulmates,” Joel says.

Just a reminder. A tired, tired reminder from where he lays in bed, eyes longing to shut as he stares overhead. His entire body aches, muscles and bones singing with the echoes of Death and Respawning. The hearts on his wrist flash yellow in a grim reminder of what’s been lost, and he tries his best not to think about it.

Etho, on the other hand, is making it quite hard to sleep off their mistakes from where he stands over Joel’s bed, finger and thumb pinching the bridge of his nose. “I didn’t say we were.”

“I only share a bed with my wife, Mr. Labs.”

And Etho sighs, the same exhaustion Joel feels ringing through him. “We don’t have enough wool.”

“Go bug Grian for some.”

“Joel–”

The words are tinged with a desperation Joel isn’t used to and it draws his attention towards Etho.

He’s… tired. Vulnerable. A state of being Joel never would have expected to see in him.

Etho, the feared survivor, the fury behind the sword, carrier of destruction and ruin for any leader who evokes his name.

Etho, exhausted, desperate to lay down after a long, long day.

And there’s something within Joel’s chest that flutters and shifts.

And he shifts too, scooting over to make room for Etho in the bed.

Etho falls forward, facefirst into a pillow with a relieved huff, voice muddled under downy feathers as he gives a “thank you”.

Joel smiles. “No problem mate.”

He focuses on the distance between them, focuses on the fact that they are not touching, that they will not touch, until that focus lulls Joel to sleep.

When he wakes curled around Etho’s arm, he quickly makes himself absent.

Because they are not soulmates.

***

“This isn’t because we’re soulmates,” Joel insists.

He’s positively beaming, though, bouncing a bit as he shows Grian his new shirt. It’s a poorly made design, but a functional one with an approximate likeness to Etho pasted on the front, big and baggy and draped over his armor.

Grian laughs in surprise, head tilted as he attempts to make sense of the craft project. “It’s Etho?”

“Definitely Etho.” Scar agrees. He’d been trying to wrangle some pandas when Joel arrived but has, since, been thwarted by Grian perched on the back of his wheelchair, arms draped over his shoulders lazily.

“And you’re wearing a shirt of him because…?”

“Because I’m his biggest fan!”

It’s the only logical conclusion Joel has been able to come to.

In the days that have passed, Etho has been the only thing on Joel’s mind. He worries about him, heart pounding when he’s out of sight, quick to throw himself into danger if it means it’ll spare Etho the trouble, even finding himself curiously disappointed when they found enough wool to make Etho his own bed.

He’s like a parasite, that one, invading Joel’s thoughts and making his stomach turn all weird and butterfly-like.

It’s ridiculous.

“And you’re not soulmates?” Grian asks slowly, and Joel gives a hard nod.

“Of course not! Lizzie’s my soulmate.”

“The Watcher’s didn’t bring Lizzie.”

“Right,” Joel agrees, “Because she’s too awesome and epic for them.”

“And not at all because there’s another soulmate of yours they wanted to bind you to?”

He hadn’t considered that, really… Joel swallows, trying his best to wet a cottoned mouth. “Lizzie’s my soulmate,” he repeats, though there’s an air of uncertainty to it now. “Not Joel.”

Scar tuts as he strips some bamboo for a few waiting pandas. “How mono genius of you.”

“He means monogamous,” Grian clarifies, and all Joel can do is frown.

“I don’t know what that means.”

Grian snorts and, finally, leaves his perch, earning a thank you from Scar as he begins work again on their base. “Have fun with your not-soulmate, Joel!”

The words are teasing in a way Joel can’t place and he’s left watching Grian as he heads off to build his cake.

Whatever the taunt, Joel ignores it. There’s no reason to linger on Grian’s tricks.

Because Etho is not his soulmate.

***

“Are we soulmates…?”

He’s… different. Death and Respawn have come again and with it the Red Curse.

It’s nothing he’s not used to. These games tend to go the worse for him, and he finds himself eerily familiar with the curse of blood and death. By all means he should hate it, should hate the way it twists his thoughts and makes him loathe his friends, but he doesn’t. It’s a comfort, really, to fall into the hands of this curse. It’s a sign that the Game’s almost through.

But he can’t think straight. Not because of the usual–not because of his anger towards Grian and Scar or his bloodlust or all the horrible wants that have filled his mind.

Because of Etho.

Because Etho is red, too. Because Etho lost his life because of Joel. Because Etho is pacing the deck of the ship now, struggling to make sense of effects of the curse and watching the tips of his fingers turn gray with their first spilled blood.

And Joel is watching Etho.

The question catches Joel off-guard. “Sorry, what was that?”

Etho turns away, eyes finding the line of Pillagers shouting angrily from behind a wall. “Nothing. I know the answer.”

He does. Since this game’s begun Joel has made the answer to that question quite clear.

They’re not soulmates.

Right…?

“I just–” Etho sighs, leaning forward against the railing to look out past the world border. “Look, don’t get all weird on me. I just–you dying when you fell? That’s been bothering me.”

Joel snorts, watching Etho’s back. “You and me both, mate.”

“I’m not angry,” Etho says. “I’m worried, I guess. Worried like I do about BDubs. And it’s surprised me. Didn’t think I worried about anyone like I do him. And you keep insisting you’re not soulmates and, well, I’m not one to argue! Fine by me!

“But then I saw you fall, and for a split second you were dead and I wasn’t and that second was agony. It was like everything of yours I’ve been feeling for the last month was suddenly gone. I was–I was alone.”

“Sounds nice,” Joel lies. He’s staring at Etho still, brows furrowed, hands kneading between one another as he tries so very hard to ignore the way his heart’s racing and his stomach’s shifting.

Lizzie is his soulmate.

Not Etho.

“Does it?”

Etho throws a glance over his shoulder and the two lock eyes.

And for the first time since the Game’s begun, Joel stops to wonder if the butterflies in his stomach are his or Etho’s.

“Red life,” Etho says quietly, more so to the air than to Joel. “We’re almost done.”

Joel can’t find the strength to speak. He nods.

“I don’t think I want to be alone, Joel.”

And he doesn’t either. Mojang above he doesn’t want to be alone, and he suddenly feels it all over. He feels it in the way his heart races and fingers itch to find Etho's. He feels it in the warmth in his cheeks and the pain in his back and the scars on his shoulders and by Mojang he doesn't want to be alone he’s not ready for this season to end.

Etho’s crossing the space now, and something in Joel screams at him to get up, to back away, to put some space between them.

Maybe Etho feels the same. He pauses with a foot between them, red-stained eyes searching Joel’s nervous form.

And Etho smiles.

“Do you think we can have more than one soulmate, Joel?”

And the words still aren’t there. Nothing is there, not the world, not the Game, not the Watchers nor the Curse.

It’s just Joel and Etho.

And amidst that nothing, Joel nods.

The two melt, falling towards each other, eager to close the space they’ve been so insistent on keeping between them. Joel throws himself at Etho, arms crossing behind his neck, chests pressed together until Etho stumbles, back against the mast to steady the two as they slide to the floor.

They’re hugging each other, Joel’s face buried in Etho’s shoulder, Etho’s hands tight around his waist. They’re hugging.

And they don’t let go.

When Joel wakes, it’s dark out, moonlight peeking in from gaps between the deck's planks. At some point the two must have moved under the deck, and they’re together, again, in Joel’s bed.

For a moment, he considers this all wrong. He thinks he should move out of the way, put some distance between them.

But he doesn’t.

Etho hums in his sleep, and Joel curls into him.

He quite thinks he’d like Lizzie by his side, and maybe BDubs by Etho’s.

And that’s okay.

“We’re soulmates,” Joel whispers to a sleeping room.

And the world whispers back that they are.

#poly rights #sorry for any typos im currently massively dissociated #but i really wanted to finish this because BOAT BOYS #boat BOYS #BOAT BOYS!#double life smp #smallishbeans #smalletho #ethoslab #joel smallishbeans #trafficblr #trafficshipping

205 notes · View notes