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#I truly don't understand what's wrong with people here
tonkatsubowl · 22 hours
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truth to be told, it takes a lot for aventurine to fully trust someone, let alone loving them.
the man had already lost so much, including his own sense of self. to be stabbed in his back, to be betrayed, to be mocked and used and made fun of—he was used to it. it would take aventurine a while for him to feel comfortable being vulnerable with someone, considering he didn't trust anyone in particular.
though the man wore a gorgeous smile, wandering through the streets of penacony, it wasn't a genuine smile, but a mask he put up. expensive clothing, his beautiful countenance and the abundance of money he liked to toss around... it was just a mask he put up. it was also for the sake of his own reputation, too. especially when you were directly under diamond herself.
the main suspect of his suffering. and the cause of his success. a double edged sword that he walked upon. his own life was theirs. a mere toy, a mere chess piece to gamble with.
...but when he met you, he was confused. afraid, even. but he put up a fake smile, some flirtatious words here and there, but the man did not trust you, nor did he believe you would be willing to stay by his side for an eternity for aeons know what.
when he met you, you were kind, understanding. you were a little stubborn, too, and humorous. you never failed to have aventurine laugh at your cute little jokes, and you never failed to protect him, whether it was against the ipc's mocking him in his name, or against nightmare infested monsters that dared to consume his flesh within a dream.
he was terrified of you.
he didn't know what you were doing to him.
every time he saw you, he felt... weak. vulnerable around you. and he hated it. he loathed it. he hated everything about how you were making him feel, as though you were a curse that came to haunt him due to the sins of his past.
every time he saw you, his heart began to palpitate, his chest aching. and it got worse whenever he saw you so happy with someone else. but... maybe you were better off with someone? everyone kept leaving him, after all, whether it was death or it was simply due to some gambling... game-thing. a business transaction, even.
but you stayed.
you stayed throughout the hardships he faced.
why?
just why?
why, of all people, did you want to stay with him? a once upon a time slave, now a business man specializing in manipulation, gambling (an addiction, to put it), and flirtatious words to soothe the mind so he could win his way.
even through everything, you were still here. that was when he decided to seek out a certain doctor.
he sat across from him, forcing a smile across his lips, but the doctor could see it. the mask that aventurine donned himself with.
"you're in love."
aventurine's eyes looked up to the other, "you must be misreading your books like usual."
"you came here... to me, for your thoughts."
aventurine chuckled to himself, nervously, even.
"love? i haven't heard that word in ages."
"it is a complicated thing. especially with how you can be, gambler. a man who is unpredictable, keen to the eye, and... well, unfamiliar with the positive things."
aventurine cleared his throat, toying with the golden coin in his hand. he purses his lips, his mask wearing off for a moment.
"...now, dr. ratio, i am not doubting your knowledge and intelligence, don't get me wrong. i just don't believe that it truly is such a strange thing called... love."
the genius sighed, "you complained to me the other day that you couldn't stand seeing (y/n) talking to others, smiling and laughing. i recall that i was not assigned to be your therapist, here. the rest should be obvious, but it appears you're too stubborn to catch on... or rather, you're unfamiliar with this feeling. this term. love."
bullseye. it was as though ratio had called him out completely. for once, the gambler was silent. here, he would try to make little comments here and there, some jokes there and wherever but... the man was actually silent.
"... what do you suggest i do, then?"
dr ratio leans in, resting both elbows on his knees, eyes fixated on the gambler's own pristine eyes.
"if you are comfortable with it, move at your own pace if you wish to pursue. this is ultimately your choice. you can pursue these feelings, or you may leave it. there is no right or wrong answer, here. this all depends on you and what you wish to do. love is about being vulnerable with each other. accepting each other at their lowest. being for one another. your lover is considered to be your number one companion, truthfully."
aventurine was quiet.
"what is your gambler's intuition?"
a sigh left aventurine's lips. he stood, flipping the coin in his hand, before showing the result of heads or tails.
"...i suppose i'll make a bet with myself. one that doesn't cost money or the finest of gold and jewelry."
the genius watched as the other male got up from his seat, retrieving his sunglasses from his expensive outfit, before placing them on. "i'll make a gamble, to be specific, about this."
"then i wish you the best of luck, aventurine."
months had past, and the two of you were already in a relationship. it had been months, but the man didn't dare to tell you, 'i love you' just yet. as a matter of fact, those words were terrifying for him. what if he lost you after he said that? what if something were to happen to you? he was terrified of saying it, as he wasn't ready yet.
dr. ratio was right—he was paranoid to the bone but hid it. yet, aventurine played a few cards and decided to gamble this relationship with you, to see if it could work out. and so far, everything was well.
you were understanding, kind, beautiful, patient... the perfect partner someone could ask for.
but it also felt undeserving.
did... he deserve this love? did he truly deserve to experience the harmony that his heart fluttered to? he began to doubt. then he spiraled into a panic.
he began to sleep restlessly at night, rendering himself vulnerable to nightmares and the instability of his mind.
... but you were there, throughout all of it.
his eyes shot open, the familiar warmth of your hand gently cupped at his left cheek. he had fallen asleep on the couch, reading a long text presented to him by his supervisor, which was mainly just work and business related things. he didn't realize he had fallen asleep, and at first was confused when he woke up.
his phone was placed securely on the table, and there was a blanket draped over him. the air conditioning was turned on for his comfort, and before him was a tray full of biscuits, tea... for him to savor in once he woke from his nightmare.
"are you... alright?" you asked. "you were having a bad dream."
his eyes traveled to your voice, finding your concerned expression, his palpitating heart now steadying at an easy rate. he began to breathe, his eyes softening.
you were here, at his most vulnerable state, concerned for his well-being. he was silent, but he immediately reeled you in for a gentle hug. he was reluctant, but he wanted to feel the rest of your warmth. your head was buried into his chest, and you could hear his heart slow down. he closed his eyes, calming down from his inner demons.
"...you're okay." you murmur, brushing the top of his hair with your hands. "i'm here for you."
you didn't know much about him at all, truth to be told. the man wasn't really comfortable sharing his past with you, yet. he was a locked chest, and in order to find the key to his past, you had to be patient. time was key, but whatever demons he was facing at night... he knew you would be there.
he had doubts, at first, and always believed that he'd always be alone.
but... you were a different story.
"...thank you," he whispers onto your ear, cradling you close to his chest, "for being here."
your gaze softens, and you were silent for a moment. this was the first time you've seen aventurine like this. so vulnerable, so... reliant on you. but you were okay. because everyone has their own weakness. not everyone was perfect, and you understood that.
"... don't thank me." you say, closing your eyes, taking in his scent as the two of you nuzzled up against each other on the couch, "please don't. it's my job—my duty, as your other half, to be here for you."
dr. ratio's words echoed into his brain, reminding him of what love truly is. being there for one another, no matter what.
"you haven't been here?"
months past, and aventurine is presenting a beautiful, scenic view of penacony for you. the night sky was phenomenal, and the beautiful sounds of crickets and late night critters were no more than music to your ears. you seat yourself at the bench, whilst the gambler was walking around, admiring the view... taking pictures, even.
"i haven't, but now i am." you say, flashing a smile.
aventurine took some time off today to take you out on a date. the man had more than enough sick and vacation leave to do this for you, and it's the first time where he actually used it.
he sits next to you, admiring the night sky, and the sight of you above all else.
"it's a beautiful sight. i come here when i want to... relax."
your gaze softens, and your hand comes towards his own. digits intertwine, and you murmur something, audible for your lover's ears.
"thank you for taking me here. to your safe place."
aventurine looks over to you, puzzled.
"... safe place, huh? didn't expect to... call it that. but i guess that's what you can say for this spot. i can feel at peace here." he nods slowly, looking back to the scenic view.
"... it's a spot where you can feel vulnerable and be okay with it," you say, instantly catching his attention, "and i want to thank you for trusting me to bringing me here. i really, really do appreciate it."
ratio's words echo through his mind once more, the pad of his thumb suddenly reaching over, gently lifting your chin. he leans in, granting you a subtle kiss, in which you've returned.
"... may... i be vulnerable, once again?"
he lowered his guard, his voice coming to a whisper.
"you... can always be vulnerable around me. i want to be your safe person." you respond, in a whisper.
"..." he was silent. "i love you."
it was the first time, too, that he said such a thing to you. such strong words that let your heart skip a few beats. your face comes to a faint, vermillion flush, but you were happy nonetheless. you smile, cupping each side of his face.
"i love you too."
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katyspersonal · 2 months
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One of the coolest things my friend Kris said, "A good headcanon differs from the canon knowingly, not out of wilfull ignorance".
Like, there is a big difference between being corrected (not always for an indisputable reason, but the intention matters) and being creatively policed! When someone shares a headcanon and you know the canon bit that contradicts it, just say it! Either they could reconsider their idea with the new information or say "yeah cool but I prefer to write my own thing, not to be 100% accurate to the canon" which are both valid. Because, the latter one knowingly differs from the canon!
But like, apparently in the eyes of some people, being informed on what was missed equals baiting hostility, policing creativity or whatnot? Like, yet again, if someone gets straight up angry and vindictive at being reminded that they are in the fandom, for something with pre-existing information, then it loops back to the question of why they are in a fandom and not doing their own original project to begin with! I can't find any other reasoning for admitting you do not want to even know canon and only here to take basic surface bits to make your own thing besides the fact that pre-existing fanbase just will engage more willingly even with canon divergent portrayals, stories and just AUs!
But like... you can't be in a fandom while expecting to never have any discussion with other fans about this story and characters! Being told that you are wrong and being told that you are wrong for BEING wrong are two whole different things, and mentality of fans not being allowed to say anything besides agreement, when it is about pre-existing media, is straight up lame and not what fandoms are about. Not everyone who points what is missing a petty redditor that hates headcanons; most of the "well actualies" come from the place of love for both canon and headcanons! This is the case of "before you break the rules you need to know them", but people that tell what rules are are anything but wrong, hostile or immature. People that say "you come into my house and maliciously ruin my fun" when they hear about those rules, however?
Again: a good headcanon differs from the canon knowingly, not out of wilfull ignorance.
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rawliverandgoronspice · 6 months
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yeah, I just feel really really numb.
#thoughts#trying to not overspill on here#but the current world events are truly sending me down the mental health gutter right now#it's not even like I didn't know what kind of nightmare world order we live in but#yeah can't focus on anything#I'm really physically isolated too and cannot leave my house for the whole week#so I genuinely cannot do anything beyond giving donations that are kept from reaching destination#and pretend everything is fine and dandy at work as if I had it in me to care about videogames at the moment#while my government reveals once again how much a fascist conglomerate of US-bootlickers white supremacist pieces of shit they really are#sorry it's normally not the tone here but I just... it's so disheartening#witnessing utterly inhumane violence branded as righteous and inevitable#and I know it's in moments like these that it's vital not to give up on people and to band together and believe in democracy etc etc#but god are we being tested right now#and I'm not even... affected like I'm not someone who might get directly hurt as a result of all this#but even this unearned privilege feels rancid and rotten and so fucking wrong#I don't understand how so many people can just... go on with their day as this is happening#as everybody's place in the system is being cemented and enforced by all manners of violence#I mean I do understand helplessness is a thing we truly cannot do much individually especially when your country banned protests#but yeah#might delete later
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musical-chick-13 · 6 months
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"Truly GOOD works don't have thriving fandoms because people aren't interested in fixing them, so what do they have to write fics/make art about."
Idk about you, but I don't write fic for properties I don't genuinely enjoy and think are, on some level, actually good.
#like I'm here to EXPAND on shit I like is that not a common experience?#if I think a work is bad why would I care enough to create something in response to it?#you think I did all those episode reviews and wrote all that shit about cxgf because I thought it was BAD?????#I have ten (10) wips and ONE of them is a 'rewriting canon to be in line with what I wish happened' fic?#idk if I'd even call it a FIX fic. it's more of a 'slightly less personally depressing resolution' fic#I'm sorry. truly I don't understand this viewpoint#'if a story is well-constructed enough there won't BE any extra dimensions to explore' WRONG. I'LL /ALWAYS/ FIND THINGS. U UNDERESTIMATE ME#I WILL /CREATE/ BLANKS TO FILL IN /BECAUSE/ I LOVE THIS THING SO MUCH#like yes everyone is probably going to have at least one piece of media that they don't think is High Art™ that they get unhinged over#(ctrlz squad sound off)#but I just...I'm sorry I cannot imagine spending all of my time going 'I will create things in honor of something that I believe is Bad™'#or 'this thing made me angry I'll exclusively spend my time fixing it' instead of just. watching/reading something else that I DO enjoy#also like...things that ARE widely-agreed to be genuinely good still have big fandoms sometimes?#tgp is pretty popular on here. csm is MASSIVE. both on and off tumblr.#and some things WOULD be otherwise easily fandomize-able: cxgf is one. dpat is another. but these don't HAVE huge fandoms because the shows#are not popular. like just. we live in a world where people are somehow both elitist and anti-intellectual at the same time#ANYWAY this is in response to that one post I saw about--*I am dragged offstage for my own safety*#In the Vents
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trans-leek-cookie · 9 months
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someone talking about the ways media and common tropes/depictions of things that are either explicitly or implicitly linked to marginalized people are demonized and presented badly is not a fucking opportunity for you to flex how you're doing it Differently And Better
#I'll rb the post but I domt want to add it on cause it feels. Not my place maybe#Anyway fun fact! You can think that all you fucking want! Close your God damn mouth about it and figure out if it actually adds to the#Conversation! Marginalized ppl don't have to hear about how you're hashtag Not Like The Others!!! TAKE IN THE INFORMATION AND CONSIDER IF#THE THINGS YOU DO TRULY DEFY STEREOTYPES OR ARE STILL IMPLICITLY INSPIRED BY THESE BIASES!!! AND DO IT QUIETLY OR WITH SOMEONE WHOS WILLING#TO LISTEN! NOT ON THE POST INFORMING YOU OF THE PROBLEMS EXISTENCE#Also I'd move this tag up but genuinely idk if I can do that atm. But I'm LITERALLY guilty of the same shit. I immediately jump to no true#Scotsman the subject because I want to defend it!!! Yes I recognize the pattern is wrong and yes I genuinely believe it isn't necessarily#Inherent! But I still have to confront the fact that it's so prominent and to many people inseparable from the subject#(That being disability and body horror). I will say: my immediate instinct was to disregard any body horror that is just like Real Shit Tha#Happens To People as body horror but that's not helpful! I can't just say well it's not body horror BECAUSE PEOPLE STILL CALL AND SEE IT AS#BODY HORROR!!! I HAVE TO STOP AND CONSIDER THE LARGER IMPLICATIONS. My PERSONAL OPINIONS do not matter and the pedantic discussion is#Something to be had with friends or used as it's own criticism of the genre not ON THE POST CALLING OUT A REAL ISSUE! Anyway just.#Both artists and consumers have to be critical of What we see as body horror/what others tell us is body horror/what we accept as body#Horror bc/what we create as body horror etc. We NEED to confront that and we can't just say I Wouldn't Do That! We need to understand that#It goes deeper than that!!! Also YOU DONT INHERENTLY KNOW WHATS POSSIBLE FOR A HUMAN TO EXPERIENCE#There's so many things that ppl can experience and Live With! There are obviously things that are fatal so u rarely hear abt them but human#Beings can survive a lot of things!!! And here's the thing: the rarer something is the shittier it feels to have it misrepresented!!!#At the very basic level: CHECK IF THE THING YOU WANT TO USE AS BODY HORROR IS A RECORDED PHENOMENON AT LEAST!!! FOR THE LOVE OF FUCK#DO THE BARE MINIMUM
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astrxealis · 1 year
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fuuta currently having a LOT of innocent votes i am very happy about that
#starry#⋯ ꒰ა milgram ໒꒱ *·˚#but also milgram is so complex that i cannnot be fully happy about it still#yk that post 'you love a character but you'll riot if they don't get punched at least once' yeah that's me w fuuta#but also it's weird to say that bcs i REALLY see myself in him LMFAO (not to an even remotely similar extent tho omg dw </3)#but yeah i understand him and with that said. yeah. yeah#he deserved the first guilty vote but please. i think he really does deserve innocent after that#i just hope he learns to accept his mistake/s.......... but it's still confusing. he's a victim of sorts but to what extent are his 'sins'?#i wonder. truly. i truly wonder.#milgram is so wonderful to me bcs wow. haruka was influnced by muu and him in the 1st and 2nd trials. different#yuno's 'crime' i don't consider a crime and thankfully many don't as well but i wonder too how exactly it is as well?#+ the fact is it happened multiple times and she just doesn't care at all. girlboss love her fr but time and time again and it feels a bit#more eh to me. ultimately though she can do whatever she wants! it's her body after all <3 love yuno fr she's the most normal here lol#fuuta. he is alike to kotoko and the viewers but he is deemed guilty (for the first trial)#perhaps his personality? it's weird to me bcs ofc i can't say for certain yet. but from what i do know#he feels regret. and i think even though he is obviously in denial. i think he knows what he did is wrong. and that he is at least somewhat#at fault. but a lot of people don't understand characters like that it seems! yeah... hmmm#i am obsessed with backdraft. also really happy this is the first time i've been here for a release even if i wish i knew this all earlier#a small theory (just a random one) is that w muu and fuuta? bully and bullied yeah but what if it was different at first#that fuuta was bullied. and muu was the bully (in their respective stories) and then the tables turned#just a small theory! trying to read the lyrics sobbing and also relating it to the other person in the pair#really glad he's being voted mostly innocent thank GOD#haruka is really a dilemma though... even i don't know what would be best. leaning towards guilty#but innocent ultimately? but there's the fact with muu that makes it really...... complex.#anyways really unfair imo kotoko was innocent and fuuta guilty in the first trial. love kotoko and her undercut but it's a lil#of double standards for me! even though i love a girlboss fr <3 </3#tbh saying fuuta 'still doesnt think hes at fault' is stupid imo bcs he shows regret. all this time. regret.#and that shows that he - one way or another - knows he's at fault at least somewhat#fuuta kajiyama
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already thinking "and by 'religious' really i mean 'christian'" re: how the term "religion" is not really useful when it's largely like, from a christian perspective, what is considered "equivalent" of christianity, see: perhaps a "rival"/obstacle to some person or group being considered christian....and even if not thinking about converting anyone, resulting in some at best misinterpretation / misrepresentation based on framing it through/as [element of christianity] and limiting of any more accurate language
like how tumblr recommends me a post about someone thinking about "religion" in general and concluding that it's Weird and perhaps Wrong for anyone who is a "true believer" in their religion(tm) to Not be proselytizing / trying to Convert everyone. like yeah why isn't everyone being an evangelical christian, they ought to be, benevolently informing all those around them that they're going to hell, otherwise. don't see any problem with this conclusion, or that someone's getting antisemitic in the notes already in agreement, or that That's Not How This Works and you don't just know how All "Religion" works based on considering it to be an alternate version of christianity (which in itself doesn't All work like that either)
#and even when it comes to having a Critical View of any belief system / way of living / spirituality it's like...people are on that already#without having to see it from a christian perspective or understand the only possible framework for it as [critiques of christianity]....#a dogmatic approach / doctrine of Salvation....not how it all works out there re: ways anyone can be anything besides christian#So Bizarre why everybody's not all trying to ''convert'' everyone else in the world....is it.#what; like; ''you'd think everyone would be launching an inquisition'' like would you.#even if you know fuckall abt non christian beliefs / perspectives / traditions/practices / identities / ways of life etc....#we could maybe go ahead and question this conclusion. or perhaps go ''but also i know fuckall about all that so why am i theorizing'' like.#and again there are non ''western'' christian traditions....and of course individuals and philosophies within christianity who would also#not think you can only Truly be christian by going ''and i'd better be trying to convert everyone. or i'm being a jerk'' too#not actually the case that everyone thinks everyone else who doesn't share some ''religious'' factor is Damned To Hell or an equivalent....#anyways telling tumblr actually this particular post? isn't for me. and i don't thank you#another tiresome factor of [mass at the benedictine monastery] like the homilies/sermons were especially exhausting#they always were but like ''what are you even talking about'' as one priest goes on about how it's silly for people to say they're#Spiritual but not Religious b/c the only way to be spiritual is to be christian lite & if you're Genuinely even christian lite then you#ought to realize you should go full throttle christian. like a) No b) why are we preaching to the choir here. we're all at Sunday Mass???#not like any sermons ever feel that thoughtful when like too much analysis is like uh oh? a bit heretical are we??? which is not universal.#gee thanks for this [are we just supposed to all sit here feeling validated in our superiority; or...?] experience#wisdom you couldn't totally get from someone going on some self-assured monologue abt heathens these days over dinner or sm shit#really makes you think. and then someone will be really thinking & going ''shouldn't everyone w/a Religion be an Evangelist'' hmm: No.#and they aren't ''wrong'' about their own beliefs approaches perspectives identities traditions etc for it either. Done#anyways changed ''religious parent'' to ''christian parent'' for its own enhanced accuracy & precision alike....
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mo-aiki · 2 months
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One-sided Love Exist... (Yandere Fiancé x F. Reader)
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Summary: You have been in love with your fiancé, but all you know is that he isn't in love with you until you do something about it.
Notes: I got this inspiration from @mayulla, their story is here. Also, I might or might not do a part 2 for this story so wait on that
Warning: fake love, forced love, obsession, I don't condone these behaviors, I just write it.
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Love.
Something you have always wished for to happen to you. All of the love stories you have read. You wished to be the princess saved by her knight or to be a princess who saves the one she loves. That was all you wanted. A knight or a prince in shining armor. That's where your fiancé came in.
A duke's son. Your fiancé, Alaric de Caius. He had seemed to fit the mold, perfectly. He looked regal and handsome with his black hair and dark blue eyes. You were only 9 when you had met him, but you couldn't help but smile when you first saw him.
Overtime you had absolutely fallen in love with him. He was a man of morals, he believe in the same things as you of what was right and wrong, he was academically talented, he was athletically talented, and he treated people around him the same whether or not they held a title.
A wonderful man.
But the problems arose when you had seen he had never paid attention towards you.
He never looked you way, seemed to say anything towards you, or seem to acknowledge you at all.
"Good morning Alaric!"
He wouldn't look.
You didn't understand why he ignored you. His indifference towards you, hurt. You didn't know if it was your ego that was hurting or it was truly your heart that was hurting, but something was in pain. But you didn't give up! Both of you were bound to get married to each other, one day!
Often talking to him first, soon enough he responded.
Bringing sweets such as cookies or sweet bread from the kitchen. Watching him eat it with no signs of disgust, might have made your day.
But you must also strive hard too! To be worthy of being a Duchess, you must help him by studying, taking up hobbies such as perfecting painting, embroidery and writing poems that have deep meanings. You must also know how to manage a household, so you asked your father if you could learn how to manage the servant's wages and everything going on in the household.
Everything you did was for him.
You did not partake in gossip with your bestest of friends, you didn't spread malicious rumors about someone, and you tried not to do the most selfish thing if there was a selfless option. Your friends, love you but saw you in pain. "Why do you do these stressful things (y/n)?" they would constantly ask.
"Because I am going to be future Duchess one day, I must prepare!" You would say cheerfully.
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Alina Thompson.
Her family was new money. Her father was a merchant who was able to strike gold in selling a once thought, rare ore. Opening trades with the east, she has risen to become the daughter or Baron Thompson.
Your friends didn't like her. One of them saying, "There is something off about her..." and another saying, "Why does she look at Duke Caius like that..."
You had brought it up to Alaric one day. He said there was, "Nothing to worry about, she is just an acquaintance.", and at first you didn't worry, heck you even befriended her. She was pretty. Her hair, long and blonde, her eyes a bright green color like emeralds, and her smile the brightest you have ever seen. She often wore pink and you did as well. But she always seemed to not get along with your friends after a few meetings. Or any noble women in fact. She had always stirred the pot with the other women in high society, supposedly acting different as if she had 2 different personalities in front of others. But she had always gotten along with the men. They spoke high praises of her. From her looks to personality. She even had admirers of her own. She was perfect, but most women disliked her. But you didn't think anything of it.
Until the day of the royal ball.
You saw with your very own eyes. Alaric's arm, being held by her's. She had the brightest, most shameless smile that day. All the men looked uncomfortable while the women were shocked. It was no secret that you and Alaric were engaged. And it was definitely no secret that you were in love with him.
They danced together. They wore matching outfits. Even the flowers on both of their corsages were the same. He had smiled at her as they were dancing. He gave her, her first dance of high society at her first ball, a royal one in fact. There was no way he had no idea what he meant by his actions. Your heart shattered as your friends got mad at both of them.
"Why that sly fox! How could she betray your kindness like this?!"
"(y/n)! If you need to I can kill him myself!"
"No!" you had quietly yelled out.
You friends looked at you, worried on their faces. "(b/s/f #1), (b/s/f #2), I need to...go..."
You ran away towards the royal garden, letting your tears to flow down.
Once you got home, you destroyed the books, the gifts he gave you and finally sat down on the floor and cried you heart out.
Your heart had shattered that day, nothing felt like it was going to fix it. It felt like the end of the world.
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The next day came, and you holed yourself up in your room.
Your bedroom door would not open. Nothing will work. Your father was worried, your friends, pestered at you, and the servants knock and check up on you as well. But even though you knew all these people cared, you truly only wanted one person to come and see you, Alaric.
You don't know if you were a masochist or not, but you did want answers.
Soon, one of the maids came in. "Leave me alone..." you mumbled in your pillow.
"No. Duke Caius is here to visit you. So I must get you ready, young lady."
You looked up at the maid as she chuckled. "What's so funny?" you asked almost like a pouting child.
"Your eyes are puffy my lady. If you do not want the Duke to notice it, I suggest you get ready, now."
You pouted as you got up.
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The next thing you knew, you had seen Alaric. His perfectly combed over hair, his eyes, calm, and the placement of his lapels, in order as followed. You had bowed your head down slightly, as he sat down at the table.
You didn't even bother looking at him. If you did, you didn't think you could bear it. It was an embarrassing night for you. All you did was look at your tea, slowly stirring the sugar cube, looking at it and spacing out in the process.
"(y/n)?"
You looked up. This was the first time he had ever called out your name. He had always referred to you as Lady (l/n), out of formality, but he has never called out your name like you do his.
"Did you hear what I said?"
You took a moment and shook your head. "No, I'm sorry..."
"That's okay, I can say it again."
Why did your heart tug at this? You felt yourself being anxious for what he wanted to say. But first you wanted the answer to why he brought Alina to the royal ball the other night.
"I had brought out Lady Thompson to the ball a few nights ago, because of her father. He had wanted to make sure his daughter secured an escort for her first royal ball. He had insisted I had better escort her, otherwise she wouldn't come."
An excuse.
"I helped her father find the rare ore that had made him Baron. I must help him again."
Lies.
"So that's your excuse..." you mumbled out of your mouth.
He looked at you, his eyes were still. He had no emotion after what you had just said. "(y/n), it's the truth."
"Lies. We are engaged, but my debutant ball and first royal ball, you didn't escort me at all."
You remember it well. He had said he was busy, and you thought nothing of it, because he wouldn't escort or dance with anyone else anyways.
"When we had our first dance, you didn't even look at me."
It broke your heart that night when you both finally had that first dance you had been waiting for, only to be sad when he didn't smile, look or seemed to be enjoying it in any way.
"I had wanted us to get matching outfits, but you held it off saying, 'you hadn't gotten measured yet'."
He would get measured for an outfit for another woman, but not you? His own fiancé?
You felt nothing but anger now towards him. "Was it a waste of my time to devote it all towards you? I know your favorite snacks, colors, meal, drink, what to do as duchess..."
You felt like you were about to cry again, but tried to hold it in. "WAS IT ALL FOR NOTHING?!" your hands slammed the table as you felt your tears coming down your face as you looked at him.
Hoping he would say it wasn't in vain. That all of these things you did for him, would mean something.
"I had never asked you to do these things, (y/n). I am tired of your antics."
You couldn't believe you had ever loved this man.
You immediately went back inside, and into your room to cry once more.
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Alaric has never needed anyone close to him.
He never understood you and your stupid antics to get closer towards him. From bringing snacks, to gifting the books he so wanted, to talking to him way to often.
He had an alright childhood. His father was sick and his mother was dead from childbirth, so he needed to become duke heir at a young age. Relying on himself to make the right or wrong decisions while his father's health deteriorated overtime.
His father wanted him to get married to his close friend, Marquis (l/n), so he arranged the engagement before his death, and after his death when he was 15, he kept it on because it was one of his father's final wishes. To see their families united.
But sometimes he couldn't stand (y/n). When he first met her, he had no opinions of her, other than the fact that she was nothing more than a clumsy girl trying to get his attention.
She was trying to live out fairytale romances through him. She had wanted him to be her knight in shining armor. And he didn't care for it.
He ignored her until she kept on pestering him.
Soon, they did their small talks.
He ignored the food she had gave him.
Until he ate it because he was hungry and it was his favorites.
He ignored her all throughout his childhood, because he never needed her as much as he did. He saw her as pathetic, but he couldn't help but fuel her pathetic attempts to get him to love her.
He did didn't need her. He didn't need her at all.
Plus, she was well liked. Both women and men liked her. But sometimes those men that liked her too much got on his nerves to the point of threatening them into silence. She didn't need him, she wanted him. And he didn't need her as well.
But he thought he felt something when he met Alina for the first time. But later, he realized it was nothing more than curiosity. But whenever he was around (y/n), there was always a feeling that he didn't know what it was, but always put it off, until it came creeping onto him whenever he was with Alina.
It was clear she was jealous of (y/n) and her life, so she had tried to mimic her. Her cheery attitude, beautiful smile, and her happy-go-lucky demeanor, even though he could tell that she was nothing more than hollow shell of an impression. She did all these things so that he could pay attention to her. But Alina was worse than (y/n).
Her personality and character are terrible.
She always seemed to get into fights with the other women. Whether petty drama or something a tad bit more serious. She had always seem to never get along with them. Unlike (y/n).
She was terrible at any financial things. Counting money properly, distributing money equally, and figuring out the budget. Unlike (y/n)
She had always seemed to look at others as if she was better than them. Often subtly bragging a new pendant, earrings, bracelet, shoes, dress, or hair accessories. Unlike (y/n)
Her tea was awful to drink. She always stepped on someone's toes for no good reason. Her embroidery was lackluster. Her paintings, a clear imitation. Unlike (y/n).
He remembered a time where (y/n)'s tea was bitter, when she stepped on someone's feet while dancing, when her paintings were dull, and when she had a hard time managing money. It was absolutely a clumsy and nerve-racking time. But slowly, it had shown improvement, unlike Alina's tea.
All of these hobbies that Alina had picked up and all of her personal quirks have cause him to realize one thing.
He would never look her way.
He picked Alina because he thought he could finally drive (y/n) away from her antics and say he is not interested in her at all.
When he went to the royal ball and was dancing with Alina, all he could ever think of was how (y/n) would react in the same situation. Her bright smile, cheerful eyes and glowing aura would all be very lovely. He couldn't help but unconsciously smile during the dance, and it seemed to have fueled Alina's determination to take her down.
But now he wonders why he had those thoughts during the dance with Alina.
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She had holed up in her manor ever since that royal ball.
Alaric didn't see her. No letter, no snacks, no anything. Nothing had came. He should be elated. Happy. Excited. Joyful.
But all he felt was a big hole. A big empty hole somewhere in his body.
He had thought he had heard her all over the place. "Alaric. You need to stop overworking yourself to death! You might get sick!"
"It's none of your concerns, Lady (l/n)."
"Huh?"
He looked up from his paperwork, only to see his secretary looking at him, confused? "What did you say, Your Grace?"'
He looked down at his paperwork. "Nothing of note."
It happened again when he was reading through the manor's ledgers. "Can I help you with that Alaric? I'm very good with ledgers!"
"It is fine Lady (l/n)."
"Your Grace?"
Once again, he looked up only to see his butler, looking at him confused.
He felt like he was going insane.
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He had developed a high fever one day from overworking. His butler called in the family's doctor, and the doctor said to take a break today.
But his fever kept on running, and the maids didn't know what to do. They gave him water that was too hot, his body kept on sweating, and they gave him food too salty for his condition. They were all incompetent when he was sick all of the sudden. And to top it off, his secretary still needed him to do paperwork for the estate.
During his time with his fever, he unconsciously only thought to see one person. (y/n).
He had wanted her to be by his side when he was sick. To take care of him and to see him recover. He wanted her to scold at him for overworking. He wanted to see her happy after he did recover from this fever. He had wanted to see her, no, he felt like he needed to see her.
He slowly opened his eyes as he was asleep for a bit. He thought he saw her in his groggy state. "...(y/n)..?"
Only to finally see clearly. It was Alina. And she looked pissed, but he was even more pissed. "How dare you! How dare you call out the name of that woman when I'm here?!"
He got up and yelled. "GUARDS!"
She got mad. "Oh, now you're calling the guards?! I came here to help you! And this is what I get?!"
He looked at her with contempt. "How did you know I was sick?"
She looked anxious. "The butler told me! He contacted me with a letter! Look!"
She pulled out a messily handwritten letter as people came up towards his room. His secretary and butler came to his side. "Who is this?" his secretary asked.
Alaric's head was banging, but managed to respond. "Lady Thompson. I do not know how she got here."
Alina looked scarred as the secretary called a maid to call the guards. "How did you get in here Lady Thompson?"
"I got here because the butler told me to come here because His Grace is sick!"
The butler looked confused. "I do not recall writing a letter to anyone."
Alina got mad. "Yes you did! I have the evidence!"
She held her letter as the secretary grabbed it out of her hands. "Butler, is this your handwriting?"
The butler fixed his glasses and shook his head. "I do not write this sloppily, even when writing fast."
Alina got even more mad as the guard got up the stairs. "Your Grace?"
"Take her away, and make sure she never sets foot in the estate again."
"Wha..? HEY!" The guards took Alina while she protested. All the servants went back to work as his secretary looked at him. "I will investigate where that letter came from, Your Grace."
Alaric looked at the ceiling as he started to lay down in his bed. "There is no need. But do investigate how she got in here and how she knew. We might have a stalker on our hands if I'm not careful..."
His secretary nodded. "Yes Your Grace, I hope you recover quickly, soon."
All he could do is stare up to the ceiling. Thinking. If (y/n) had done this, maybe he wouldn't had been as mad as he was back there. Maybe he would had enjoyed her trying to fumble out a response of how she knew he was sick. Maybe he would had enjoyed her antics of trying to cure him of his fever.
He couldn't help but chuckle as he slowly fell back asleep, dreaming.
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When he had gotten better after 3 days, he immediately went to the (l/n) estate. He didn't know why, but he needed to go there after his fever.
He was led to the garden as he waited for her to get ready. Then he looked around. The garden was filled with flowers. Pink, white, purple, and blue flowers seemed to be her favorite. The servants brought out her favorite tea set. A pink and white ceramic one. He has only seen it every time she had hosted her friends. She only brought out the other tea sets with him.
She looked different. She looked less lively. Her skin looked pale, her eyes a bit puffy and her hands fiddling with the tea cup, nervously.
He had only brought up his purpose at being in at the royal ball with Alina, when she started talking about his shortcomings in their relationship.
How he didn't accompany her to her first ball, didn't look at her for their first dance, and how he always gave an excuse for not wearing matching outfits.
But something came out of his mouth when talking to her. "I had never asked you to do these things, (y/n). I am tired of your antics."
He felt annoyed at her behavior. She got too clingy and annoying now. Bringing up insignificant things. She got annoying in this very moment.
She soon ran away as he left the (l/n) estate.
He wanted to go home and rid his memories of her immature behavior. Hoping that her behavior won't continue again.
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A/N: I should do a part 2. But you'll have to wait a while.
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hunn1e-bunn1e · 4 months
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Malleus Draconia - "The Fear"
🐇.•°•.🐇.•°•.🐇.•°•.🐇.•°•.🐇.•°•.🐇.•°•.🐇.•°•.🐇.
In which you struggle to understand why so many people are afraid of Malleus Draconia when he's oh so lovely. Or; in which a certain dragon fae finds out a few habits of yours that may be disturbing to the average person but after the initial confusion he's actually very flattered.
                                                                                                   
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💬•♡•💬•♡•💬•♡•💬•♡•💬•♡•💬•♡•💬•♡•💬
"You know... I really don't get it."
"Oh? What don't you get?"
"It's just– How are people afraid of you? I mean, look at you."
"Hm?"
"Clearly they've been looking at you at the wrong angle, cause all I see is a precious boy that wouldn't hurt a fly if he could help it."
"Precious you say—"
"I mean– Have they not seen your smile? Your adorable, holy, shining relic of a smile that could kill gods?"
"Kill gods? Well, I wouldn't say that—"
"You're too cute to be scary. Seriously! Here– look at this picture I took of you taking care of Gao Gao Dragon-kun; you look so cute when you're focused!"
"Oh really, I— Wait. When did you take this?"
"Oh! And this one! This was when you were admiring gargoyles on your walk yesterday! That look in your eyes when you see something you love just completes me in a way!"
"Oh. I was certain that I was alone then—"
"Anyway, the point is that you're adorable and handsome and perfect and in no way scary! Anyone who tells you otherwise I'll whoop their ass, okay? No one fucks whith my baby!"
"Ah... Hehehe~ Oh, my child of man, you truly know how to flatter me, don't you?"
💬•♡•💬•♡•💬•♡•💬•♡•💬•♡•💬•♡•💬•♡•💬
🐇.•°•.🐇.•°•.🐇.•°•.🐇.•°•.🐇.•°•.🐇.•°•.🐇.•°•.🐇.
Wanna see similar content? Check out my Masterlist!
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official-megumin · 10 months
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I'm both trans and intersex. Not just intersex by technicality either.
I was born with both male and female primary sexual characteristics, it affects me every day. Chronic pain, discrimination from doctors, you name it. My life is a constant attempt at convincing the world that my body genuinely does not fit the binary of male and female.
I was still assigned male despite this, so most of my life has been shaped by that, most of my trauma around my gender comes from being trans. But still despite that, I identify closer with my intersex identity.
I do that because even within the trans community there is little understanding or respect for intersex people, we're often made to fit a perisex trans understanding of sex and gender, and that's frustrating.
This means that I primarily fight for intersex rights, even more so with how most of the world refuses to acknowledge our existence even in this age of better understanding of trans people.
I simply have to with how the world works.
But...
The fight for intersex rights and the fight for trans rights is essentially the same. It's a fight to not be limited by the majority, a fight not to be forced to conform to the status quo rejecting out nature.
It's as unnatural to force a trans person to comform to their AGAB as it is to force an intersex person to undergo surgery or forced HRT.
Both are violations of our individuality and our bodily autonomy, both are entirely fueled by a refusal to understand or adapt to reality.
The reality is that trans people are the gender they claim to be, and that intersex people don't have to be clearly male or female to be complete people.
This is why transphobes will ALWAYS be at odds with intersex people
To any terf or otherwise transphobe out there:
You're not our friend, you're not on our side. And you'll never be speaking for us when you try to put down trans people.
You'll always be our enemy, you'll always be our oppressor, and ultimately, you'll be left in the dust. Being nothing nothing but a villain in the grand scheme of human history, just like all other bigots before you. You can claim to be right all you want, but in the end. Life proves you wrong. You can't fight that forever.
Edit: When I say intersex by technicality I don't mean to exclude anyone, no matter how minor your intersex condition may seem, no matter if it's visible or not to those around you. You're still intersex, and your experience matters.
I was just trying to shut up bad faith actors who've tried to attack me by implying I wasn't truly intersex in the past. Which ironically is what I have done here.
For that I am sorry
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kaciidubs · 4 months
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Walking in on Roommate! Chan | Pt. 2
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❣ Summary: A lot can change in a month, but was it truly a change, or simply a realization? ❣  ❣ Word Count: 7.41k ❣ Warnings: Non!Idol AU, Roommate! Chris, fluff, smut, slice of life, slight humor, friends to lovers, slight! dom Chris, Dom/Sub dynamics, smut with feelings, sir/daddy kink ❣  ❣ Female! Reader [No use of Y/N] | You/Your pronouns ❣  ❣ Additional Tags: Chan is referred to as Chris, Channie, Baby, Sir, and Daddy, Reader is referred to as Baby, Good/Pretty Girl, and Princess, lightly edited ❣ Stray Kids Masterlist ❣ General Masterlist ❣ Pt. 1
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It had been a month since the incident, and though you thought things had gone unchanged between you and Chris, your reality couldn't have been more wrong.
You seemed to linger more on every interaction with him, your brain working double time to process things he'd say or do as of they had a deeper meaning behind them - which they didn't.
He always left you little notes whenever he'd go out with Changbin for an early gym session, so why were you smiling at the hastily written messages and cutely drawn dragon-worm signature?
He always texted you on your break at work to remind you of any plans he made, so why did your heart flutter every time his contact popped up?
He always made sure your favorite snacks were in the pantry, and if you were running out he'd stock them up before you had the chance to add them on your grocery list, so why did you swoon every time your favorite bag of chips was sat on the kitchen counter?
There was no way your world flipped itself upside down over one incident, absolutely no way...
Unless.
"I'm screwed." You groaned woefully, dropping your head to the table in front of you.
Jeongin laughed, taking a piece of meat from your plate, "I told you to stop laughing at that guy's terrible jokes, now look at you!"
"What?"
"Jongsoo, the coworker you kept saying was trying to flirt with you but couldn't catch a hint?" Felix mused, tilting his head slightly, "Isn't that what we're here to talk about? 'Level three red alert', and all?"
"What? No, no," sitting up, you leveled him with a soft stare, "if this was about him, I would've picked a bar - he doesn't deserve the glory of being talked about over barbecue."
"Okay, so why are we here?" Minho huffed as he flipped a strip of beef on the tabletop grill, "Actually, better question, why am I here? Last I checked I never signed up to this whole 'red alert' code talk."
"Hyung, the last time we shared tea that you didn't know about, you ignored me and Felix for a week for 'leaving you out'." Jeongin spoke pointedly, recalling the way he practically cursed them out for 'disrespecting your elders'.
The former groaned, rolling his eyes, "Why didn't you just say you needed to shit talk someone?! Why are we speaking in code?"
"Because one of our friends has a big mouth, the other one forgets a secret is a secret the second you finish talking to him, another one likes sharing gossip online through subs and secret callout posts, one couldn't even buy a fuck to give about any gossip, and the final one... he's not allowed, he knows too much as it is already." You listed simply before taking a sip of your drink, "The group we have right now is formed out of the strongest tea holders, understand?"
"Anyways," Felix snapped you back into business, "what's happening? Why are you screwed?"
Steeling your nerves, you mentally prepared yourself for the word that were about to come out of your mouth.
"I might have a crush on someone..."
"I knew it." Minho announced smugly, taking another piece of perfectly cooked beef from the grill top.
"What?! There's no way you knew anything about this, Hyung!" Jeongin argued, sitting up in his seat next to you, "You don't even like people! How are you suddenly an insider?"
"Look at her!" He pointed the tongs in your direction, to which you tilted your head in confusion, "The past few days she's been watching her phone like a hawk whenever we all go out, she's been way too happy, and she spaces out more than usual-"
"Okay, that part could just be because of Lix's pot brownies!"
"Hey, hey, hey - ex-nay on the pot brownies-ay, okay? The whole world doesn't need to know - I only do it cause people ask me to!" The blond gritted out, pointing his fork in the direction of the youngest as a threat.
"Yeah, sure, next you're gonna say you only model for Hyunjin because he 'asks you to'."
"You little-"
"Hey!" The eldest of the boys snapped the tongs three times, effectively quieting them, "Shut up! We're here to get information, not talk about Felix's entrepreneur business, got it?" He pointed the utensil toward you yet again, "Talk. Now."
"Well- Uh... I don't know, it's not like I wanted it to happen, I was completely fine as friends with this person but then..." Shrugging your shoulders, you felt the events of the past month play back in your head, "I guess things just changed one day? Like, suddenly I could see them in this new light and now every time he does something so stupidly normal I find myself wanting to kiss him until I can't breathe."
"Ugh, that's both disgusting and cute - why did we have to talk about this over barbecue?" Jeongin whined before stuffing his face with a lettuce wrap. "Whosh th' lucky guy?"
"You really think I'm gonna reveal-"
"I swear to god, please don't say it's your coworker," Felix pouted, looking at you with pleading eyes, "you can do so much better than him - you don't have to do the charity work, I promise you."
"Lee Felix-"
"I know your heart's in the right place, but you don't have to cater to him, please."
"Would you please-"
"40 bucks says it's Chan." Minho hummed through a bite of his bulgogi.
The youngest nearly choked on his drink, swallowing a hefty gulp before coughing, "That's such a bad take! Chan Hyung? The man with negative rizz? The man who stays up long enough to say good night and good morning?"
"You say that like it's impossible!" The freckled blond argued, "It happens all the time in sitcoms!"
"Lix, please, I'd rather you not compare my life to a sitcom, I have enough happening for two seasons and a reunion episode as it is." You groaned, dropping your head in your hands with a sigh, "Can we just move on from the confession and talk about the movie night? I don't think my brain can handle the topic of my non-existent love life much longer."
Through a silent agreement, Minho ordered another round of food and the four of you continued onto much lighter - yet somehow more argument filled, conversation.
The coveted movie night was a monthly event that originally started with you and your friends, using the time Chris would be working late to have a movie marathon loaded with snacks, drinks, and cozy pajamas. It wasn't until Changbin caught word of the activity that the small gathering turned into a merged group affair; it was even enough to convince Chris to take time off to join in on the fun.
In the whirlwind of work and the existential crisis of realizing your crush, you'd completely forgotten that the event would be taking place tonight.
Funny, how fast time flies when your world is in shambles.
"Alright, that's all the blankets and pillows from the closet." Chris huffed, stepping back with his hands on his hips as he admired his handiwork; the large couch draped with various blankets and piled high with pillows that were sure to be rearranged in less than a minute of everyone's arrival.
You snuck a glance from your spot in the kitchen, a soft smile growing from his look of personal accomplishment. "Looks great, hopefully we won't have Han and Hyunjin fighting over who gets what pillow again."
He snorted out a laugh, heading over to you, "You think so? Those two could fight over who gets the last chip with an unopened bag right next to them - it's happened before!" Leaning his hip against the island, his eyes glanced over the various snacks covering the surface, "D'you need me to help with anything?"
"Um- Yeah, actually, can you get me the bowls from the cabinet? We can open the chips now, it's almost time for everyone to show up." You turned to look at the stove's clock; 7:33 PM, a little less than half an hour until your shared apartment would be filled with a sea of people.
Chris hummed, pushing himself away from the countertop, and you found your eyes drawn to his frame; a black tank top - sleeveless by his own doing - showing off the subtle build of his biceps, and a matching pair of black shorts you'd seen time and time again.
It was his staple look, simple, perfectly cozy for the impending activities, yet somehow you still felt your heartbeat racing the longer you stared.
Yes, you knew he was attractive, your friends gawked about it for weeks since you first moved in with him, but when was he this attractive?
"The big bowls, yeah?"
Snapping yourself out of your stupor, you nodded, even with his back still turned to you. "Mhm, those are perfect!"
You were in, deep.
You turned your attention back to preparing the chips, opening a bag and sneaking one of the plain potato chips when you felt a hand at the small of your back - the stack of bowls sliding onto the counter a second later.
"Here you go."
This was normal, it was normal for him and his affinity for physical touch, but you still felt a rush of electricity shoot up your spine from his touch - your body freezing as you registered just how close he was behind you.
"Ah- Thanks, Channie!"
Normal. So very, very normal.
"You need anything else?"
Lifting your gaze from the snacks in front of you, your eyes immediately found his; warm and kind, a shade of brown you caught yourself daydreaming of time and time again - distracting enough for you not to realize the mere inches between your faces.
He smelled like mahogany and lavender, a faint musk of the cologne he always wore tinted with your laundry detergent he claimed made his clothes feel softer.
"I, um..." His stare was hypnotizing, sending every productive thought in your brain out the window, "I-"
The sound of the doorbell snapped you out of your reverie, but you could've sworn you saw a hint of sadness in his eyes as he stepped back.
"That might be Han, he said he'd be coming a bit earlier."
"Yeah, no, that's fine - can you finish opening these when you get back? I'm gonna go get changed."
Chris hummed out a short "Yeah" before heading toward the front door, leaving you to collect yourself amongst the colorful serving bowls.
This was going to be a long night.
It wasn't long before everyone showed up; comfort clothes on and ready for the night's movie queue and rounds of snacks.
The seating arrangements remained in their usual layout with the mix of your friends between the couch or the floor, while you somehow always found yourself tucked between Chris and and the corner of the couch - arguably, the best part of any couch in your opinion.
This time, however, the arrangement was met with knowing side eye glances from your half of the friend group, a few of your girls sharing barely hidden smirks and whispers.
Before you could throw a pillow as a warning sign, a blanket of polyester blocked your vision and filled your nose with an all too familiar scent.
"Here," Chris hummed softly, rounding the edge of the couch to take his place next to you, "in case you get cold."
"Aw, you thought of me?" You teased, nudging his shoulder with yours as you unfolded his blanket and draped it across your legs.
"I always think of you."
His words made you freeze, your heart stuck in a limbo of floating to your throat or falling to the pit of your stomach while he carried on with the rest of the group.
I always think of you.
Always.
The revelation had the gears in your head working double time, the events of the past month playing like a movie in your mind - akin to the one currently starting on the TV in front of you.
He always thought of you, his caring nature shown in so many ways besides the ones you grew used to while living under the same roof; if you were running late coming home, you'd always have a text making sure you were safe - or, when you had important dates in your schedule, he'd be the one to remind you when they were a few days away.
Chris always did little things to show that you were on his mind, he always made it clear that you were important to him, that he cared about you as much as he did his friends.
But maybe... Maybe there was more behind it.
Your fingers glided along the blanket covering your lap, the fabric soft and welcoming like the hug of a close friend.
I always think of you.
It was like the three movies passed in the span of seconds, some of your shared friends tapping out after the second film, while the stragglers and self proclaimed cleanup crew stuck around to take in a cheesy family comedy of a man taking his family on a wild vacation.
"Min, you don't have to do that, you know," you chastized the black haired man as he washed the empty chip bowls, "I would've gotten to it in the morning!"
He scoffed out a chuckle, throwing you a knowing side eye, "Yeah, says the person who told me how much she hates the dishes with a passion stronger than Han's coffee addiction."
Deciding to protect your pride - knowing full and well he was completely correct - you wandered back into the living room where Felix and Jisung were folding one of the blankets, while Jeongin rearranged the pillows and Changbin gathered any missed trash lying around.
Felix shot you a sleepy smile, nodding his head toward the stack of folded blankets, "D'you want us to put these back in the closet?"
"No, you guys have done more than enough, seriously! I'll put them away, don't worry."
"What about this one?" Jisung held up the navy blanket you were using, Chris' navy blanket. "Want it folded? Are you still using it?"
"It's actually Chris's, I'll give it back to him."
Said man slipped away to his bedroom in the middle of the third movie, mentioning something about double checking some files for work before wishing you all a good night.
Humming in acceptance, the remaining boys gathered their belongings and headed toward the door, giving each of them a hug and making them swear to text when they each made it home safely.
Minho gave you a soft smile, though a certain glint in his eyes raised warning sign in your head, "Have a good night." He hummed with an air of mischief, slipping through the door before you had even a second to question him.
Frowning at the wood, you clicked the lock into place before gathering everything you needed to close off the living room for the night; tucking the navy blanket under your arm while balancing the other blankets in your hand. You stuffed them back into their bin in the hallway closet with ease, sliding the door shut and making your way toward your last stop of the night.
The sound of your knuckles against the door echoed through the empty hall, "Channie, you up?"
"Yeah, you can come in!"
Turning the knob, you were bathed in a soft purple light from his LED's, walking into the cozy atmosphere to see him laying on his bed with his phone in hand, "Hi."
He smiled, dropping his phone to the side as he sat up, "Hey, you - is everyone gone?"
"Yep, they helped clean up as usual, I'm just here to return this," you held up the blanket, stopping just short of the side of his bed, "thanks for letting me borrow it."
"You know, you can keep using it if you want, it's not like I won't know where it is."
Rolling your eyes, you held it out to him, "Chris, you and I both know I don't need anymore blankets in my room."
"What if you get cold?" He grinned, challenging you with glittering eyes.
"Then I'll use one of my blankets!" You laughed at his cheekiness, tossing the blanket in his direction just for him to catch it before it covered his face.
The room filled with your combined giggles, warmth settling over you as you watched him unceremoniously ball the blanket up and toss it toward his computer chair.
Just as you were about to announce your leave, your mind seemed to have a mission of its own the minute you opened your mouth.
"Can I ask you something?"
"Of course, always - what's up?"
Always - god, was he trying to drive you crazy on purpose?
You needed clarity, something to confirm that you were seeing things that weren't truly there - making a purpose out of words that were simply meant from one roommate to another, one best friend to another.
"So... About what you said in the living room, when you said you always think of me..." You dropped your gaze from his, your fingers suddenly becoming the most interesting thing to you, "Did... Did you mean it?"
"Of course I meant it, you're one of my best friends - I think about you all the time!" The smile he gave you was genuine, warm, filled with so much truth that it made your heart skip a beat.
Steeling your nerves, you looked up at him with a firm stare, "All the time?"
"Yes...? I mean, I think about other people and things too, but for the most part you've always been there... Why are you asking-"
"Did you think about me last month?"
His smile faltered, eyebrows furrowing as he searched your face for a hint of an answer. "What are you talking about?"
"Chris, did you think about me last month - when I walked into your room and I saw you-" Taking a sharp breath, you calming yourself before looking at him with pleading eyes, "Did you think of me?"
The silence was thick, the sound of your own heart filling your ears - you were certain it would beat right out of your chest and run out of the room to save you from this conversation.
"Would..." He cleared his throat, dropping his head as he picked at the sheets underneath him, "Would it be weird if I said yes?"
Your stomach flipped, your knees threatening to buckle and send you straight to the floor but you stood strong. "Would it be weird if I said I wanted you to?"
His head snapped back up and he stared at you with a look crossed between shock and awe, "Are you serious?"
"Honestly, I haven't been able to stop thinking about you." The confession took you by storm, though you couldn't find it in yourself to stop talking, "And it's not just from that night - well, some of it is, but since then it's like... enhanced? Like, every little thing you do just lingers and sometimes I think I'm just going crazy because it's not like you've done anything new - it's just you, yet my heart feels like it'll explode after every text you send, or whenever we're in the same room, and I-"
The sound of your name from his lips stopped your panicked ramble, though the look he gave you did little to calm your racing heart.
"Come here."
Offering his hand, you cautiously accepted it and let him guide you onto his bed, straddling his lap at his instance while trying not to completely evaporate from the close proximity.
"Honestly, this isn't how I thought I'd end up confessing, but I guess there's a lot about us that isn't traditional," he chuckled to himself, his hands naturally finding their home on your hips, just below the waistband of your pajama shorts. "First, I want you to know that I think about you no matter what - you're always somewhere in my mind and at first I thought it was because you're my roommate, someone I care about just like everyone else in my life. But, recently things have been changing and I..." Taking a deep breath, his eyes found yours, a firm, yet comforting gaze holding you captive in those brown irises, "I have feelings for you- I like you, more than just a roommate or a best friend, and I didn't want to ruin things between us if you didn't feel the same w-"
You cut him off with your lips against his, swallowing the rest of his sentence with a small hum of delight - soft with a hint of cherry chapstick.
He melted almost immediately, tugging you closer as a hand slid up your back to keep you pressed against his body - almost as if he allowed anymore space between you, you'd somehow disappear into his dreams.
When you went to pull away, he followed like a desperate puppy and you had to fight the urge to laugh at him, placing your hand on his chest to keep him from coming any closer. "Just so you know, that kiss means I definitely feel the same way."
Chris huffed out a giggle, narrowing his eyes playfully, "No, really? I would've never guessed!"
"Well, I know for a fact you also feel the same way." The lilt in your voice was teasing, making a show of rolling your hips against the mass that was quickly making itself known between your legs.
Biting his lip, he leveled you with a firm gaze, daring, "Don't start something you can't finish, baby."
The pet name made your heart flutter, and you tilted your head up in defiance, "What makes you think I don't wanna finish it, hm?" Grinding your hips yet again, you were able to work out a low groan from those wonderfully kissable lips, "I can finish it, Channie, just show me how."
Before you knew it, he had you wrapped up in another mind melting kiss that had you letting out a shivering moan against his mouth as you tried matching his ferocity.
"You," he panted, nipping your bottom lip, "are gonna be the death of me, you little minx."
He kissed his way down your jaw and neck, sucking and nipping at the sensitive spots he miraculously had no trouble in finding, leaving you wondering how much he truly knew about you to discover this information.
However, all of your critical thinking skills flew out the window when he sucked at a spot just underneath your jaw, turning you into a whining mess that only craved him and him alone.
Tilting your head to the side to grant him more room, you simultaneously tugged at his shirt - almost offended that he decided tonight of all nights to wear one in the privacy of his own room.
"Off, Chris."
He pulled himself away from the paradise that was your skin, gazing at you with simmering eyes, "Say please?"
Pouting, you pulled at the offending cotton once more, "Chris-"
His hands immediately found your wrists, tugging them gently behind your back as he tilted his head, fixing you with a tsk of disapproval. "Use your manners, princess, you know how this goes."
Your body temperature spiked, flashes of him saying the same fated words as a tease just to get you to beg for him before he inevitably gave you what you wanted, playing back like a film reel.
You know how this goes.
Swallowing down the demand threatening to bubble up, you relaxed in his hold and softened your undoubtedly needy gaze, "Please, Chris? Can you take your shirt off, for me?"
The smirk that stretched his lips had your stomach doing flips, the mere glimpse of the cocky energy he had inside of him making your mouth water and your pussy flutter with need.
"That's my girl."
He let go of your wrists to hike the hem of his shirt into his hands, before tugging it up and off with the coveted crossed-arm maneuver that he never failed to use as his prized flirting trick - and, god, was it a good trick.
Despite having seen him shirtless countless times, seeing him shirtless up close had your brain melting.
"Remind me to thank Changbin for keeping you in check with his gym routine."
"As much as I appreciate the compliment, could we maybe not talk about our other friends while I have you in my lap?"
Barely holding back your laughter, you nodded and slipped your own pajama shirt off in one go as a peace offering, tossing it to the floor where his currently laid. "Yes, sir - won't happen again." When he went rigid underneath you, you arched an eyebrow, "Oh? We have a sir kink, do we?"
Before you could tease him any further, he surged forward and caught your lips in a feverish kiss, passion fueled and determined as his warm hands found the new, uncharted territory of your back.
"You're playing with fire, princess." His tone was firm, laced with warning as he nipped at your plump bottom lip, "You really think you can handle it?"
The tantalizing threat of a challenge had your heart skipping a beat; you'd seen him get into one of these moods before, asking an open ended question that he already know the answer to, and playing that game now held too many promising rewards in the end.
Preparing yourself for the next words coming out of your mouth, you gave him an innocent smile, "I know I can handle it, sir."
That was the straw that broke the camel's back, graciously earning you the split second of weightlessness before you were pinned on your back with every sense of yours surrounded by Chris; the feeling of his soft, cool sheets against your back, the smell of him ingrained into the cotton threading, and the heart stopping sight of him hovering above you bathed in that soft purple glow.
"Tell me you want this." His eyes locked onto your own, brown irises filled with caution and hope, "If you want me to stop, I'll stop, and we can pretend we never let it get this far, I promise."
"I want this- God, I need this, I need you, Chris - keep going, please."
With your consent given, his fingers danced up your thighs and over the cotton shorts you wore - a matching set to the shirt that was long forgotten - before dipping past the elastic waistband to drag them back down the expanse of your thighs.
They were unceremoniously tossed to the ground with the ever growing pile of clothes, and when he turned to give your panties the same, eventual treatment, his jaw nearly dislocated from the rate it dropped at; a bright blush turning his ears and neck red.
"Holy shit- I-I mean, fuck- Please... Please tell me you planned this"
You were now laid in his bed fully nude, which meant you weren't wearing panties for as long as the movie night went on, and that thought alone had his dick painfully straining against his own shorts.
Shaking your head, you timidly knocked your knees together, bristling at the exposure of cold air against your pussy, "I, um... I really wish I could say I planned it, but I didn't." Blinking up at the ceiling, a sheepish laugh shook your shoulders, "It's more comfortable sleeping without them, you know?"
Of course, you knew he knew from a few fated encounters with him early in the mornings, courtesy of wandering eyes and a not-so-small situation he tried keeping tucked away - it seemed that between the two of you, underwear was a foreign concept in the privacy of your shared apartment.
Chris groaned, a low, aching sound that begged for mercy to be taken on him, "You're absolutely going to be the death of me, there's no way you're real right now - this has to be a dream." Resting his hands on your knees, he silently waited for your hum of permission before pulling them apart, following the angle of your thighs down to catch his first glimpse of your pussy. "Fuck, if this is a dream, please don't wake me up."
"Chris."
Your insistent whine didn't fall on deaf ears as he wasted no time in scooting down his bed and ducking his head between your legs; plump lips peppering wet kisses along your soft skin, from the inside of your knee down to the highest point of your inner thigh, before skipping entirely over your cunt to repeat the process to your other leg.
Each caress of his lips sent chills up your spine, sparks of electricity shooting through your nerves and powering the growing desire within the pit of your stomach. Thankfully, you wouldn't have to suffer much longer as his second trip down ended with the warm sensation of his tongue swiping through your lower lips with a careful curiosity.
A sound crossed between a sigh and a moan floated through him before his hands squeezed the flesh of your thighs and he all but dove his head toward your pussy; lapping messily at the arousal dripping from you while aiming to explore your fluttering walls.
"Oh, shit-" Hands flying to his hair, you gripped at the roots as shock tinted pleasure shot through you, "Oh my god, Chris- Oh, god!"
The only sounds coming from him were muffled moans and lewd slurps, the only instances of his mouth leaving your pussy being him shifting his head up to focus his devilish tongue along your clit, and him pulling away for mere seconds of air before getting back to work.
He was eating you out like a man starved, and all you could do was lay there and take it with wanton moans and whines of his name.
"Chris, baby," you panted breathlessly, fingers tugging at his roots in hopes of gaining his attention, "baby, w-wait-" Pulling a bit harder, you were met with a groan of pleasure, sending your back into a small arch as the vibrations flowed through you.
With a small gasp of air, he pulled away just enough for you to catch the shine of your arousal coating the tip of his nose and lips, pupils blown with a fog of desire that made your mouth run dry.
"What's wrong? Did I hurt you? D'you wanna stop?"
"No, no, you're amazing - if we stopped now I might actually die," giving him a reassuring smile, you brushed a few strands of hair away from his forehead, "but as wonderful as your tongue is, I'd rather come on your dick first."
"Fuck." Pressing a kiss to your inner thigh, he sat up with a groan, "We're going to have to do something about that mouth of yours."
Blinking up at him with faux innocent eyes, you tilted your head, "I'm just telling the truth, sir."
He smirked at the pout set on your lips, leaning over you to nip gently at the flesh, "That's fine, I just wonder what else it can do." Sweeping you into a feather light kiss, he murmured softly, "You'll show me later, though, won't you, princess?"
Your pussy fluttered, clenching around nothing as you nodded without hesitation - only focused on getting those pretty lips, tinted with the taste of your arousal, back on your own.
"Good girl."
Chris pulled back, laughing at your whine of disdain while his hands got to work sliding down his black shorts with ease, shifting to get them fully off and added as the final item to the pile on the floor.
In the midst of all of his moving, you were able to catch a glimpse of just exactly what he was packing and your jaw dropped - the accidental peek you'd seen a month ago barely comparing to the full on staring contest you were having now.
He was big, bigger than most you'd had before in almost every way, and you nearly began to consider if it would even fit; your gaze trailing up the slight curve it held, mouth watering at a prominent vein running along the side.
"I'll go slow."
Your gaze snapped back up to meet his own, the previously cocky aura he held now warm and comforting, and your - admittedly needless - worries subsided.
"And I meant what I said earlier," reaching over to his nightstand, he pulled open a small drawer to take out a small, obvious box, "if you want me to stop, just say so."
Leaning up on your elbows, you watched as he pulled out a foil packet, "Do you know about safewords?"
"Yeah," bringing his full attention back to you, he tilted his head, "d'you have one?"
"Pear, for a hard stop, or the light system if it's easier for you to work with."
Scoffing out a laugh, he shook his head, "Whichever works for you, baby - I'll remember."
As you laid yourself back onto his bed, he made work of ripping open the condom packet, taking out the rubber and sliding it on with careful, yet experienced ease.
"Y'know, I never thought someone could look hot while putting on a condom, but I don't mind being proven wrong." When he ducked his head in embarrassment, a familiar sheepish blush beginning to turn his ears red, you giggled at your small achievement.
"It's our first time together, I didn't want to just assume that... you know." Growing past his shyness, Chris settled himself between your legs once more, one hand holding the back of your knee while the other wrapped around the base of his cock - a shiver of brief relief running down his spine. "Ready?"
Taking a deep breath, you nodded, "Ready."
Dropping his gaze, he leaned forward to press the covered head of his dick against your glistening entrance, biting his lip at the warmth emanating through before pushing onward - working the tip past your walls slowly.
The increasing stretch had a low moan escaping you, each inch introducing a new wave of pain tinted pleasure that shot from the top of your head to your toes. "Fuck, Chris."
He wasn't faring any better on his end, the lack of attention given to his dick since you first sat in his lap had him beyond sensitive and holding fast to his promise like a lifeline - go slow, go slow.
"Relax for me, baby," he gritted out, shivering as your walls clenched around the half of his length he managed to sink in, "just a little more, okay? Just need you to let me in."
"'M trying - you're so big." You couldn't find yourself to care about the desperate whine that took your voice, not when you were being deliciously filled with more to come.
Abandoning his hold on your thigh, he licked the pad of his thumb before bringing it to your clit, rubbing gentle circles in hopes of helping you relax further - and it worked. He was able to slowly sheath the rest of his dick inside of you, breathing a sigh of relief, while you shivered underneath him, canting your hips against the consistent flicks of his thumb against your sensitive nub.
"M-Move- Oh god, please move, Channie."
"Are you sure you're ready for that? I can wait-"
"Channie," looking up at him, you tried your best to give him a firm stare through the mind fogging lust, "I need you to fuck me; the color's green, it's so green, I promise - please, just fuck me already!"
He took his thumb off of your clit in favor of holding onto your hip instead, hovering over your body and keeping himself balanced with his left hand.
Licking his lips, his eyes searched your face for any signs of doubt, but he was simply met with desire and need. "Okay, only because you said please."
A smile lit up your face, and just as you went to give him a teasing reply, your body jolted forward and a surprised moan shot past your lips instead.
Another sharp thrust rocked your body and your hands scrambled to find purchase on his broad shoulders, latching onto him to take every quick, deep thrust he delivered before he fell into a regular pace of thorough strokes that had you seeing stars.
Chris watched every subtle shift in your expression after each thrust, drinking in the cute pinch of your eyebrows and pout of your lips while the sounds of your moans created a symphony in his head.
"Beautiful," he murmured, shifting his knees to allow him to drive deeper into your dripping cunt, "my pretty girl, taking me like you're fucking made for me."
The shift in his hips led you to lift your own, and the resulting graze of his cock against your g-spot had a near pornographic moan leaving you - neighbors be damned.
Swiping his tongue across his bottom lip, he made a mental note to keep that angle as long as he could. "There it is - Fuck, look at you."
Your nails scratched down his shoulder blades, earning a sharp hiss of pain from the man above you, yet he continued on without hesitation.
"I wish I told you sooner," stifling a grunt, he switched up the pace with slow, shallow rolls of his hips, "could've had this pussy wrapped around me every fucking night."
A helpless whine vibrated through you, but the following moan was something neither you or him was prepared for.
"Daddy!"
There was a brief pause, not even lasting a full minute though it was glaringly obvious to you - even in your blissed out haze. Blinking up at him with worried eyes, you were ready to apologize for the mortifying slip up until you realized he wasn't looking down at you in disgust - but, rather, unrestrained lust.
"Daddy, hm? Is that what my pretty baby wants?" Sliding his hand down your thigh, he maneuvered to hook your leg in the crook of his arm and bring it up higher, evidently opening you up more. "I don't mind, it's fitting - you don't need sir right now anyways, isn't that right, princess? So," rutting his hips into yours, a cocky smirk curved his lips, "keep being a good girl and tell daddy just how good he's making you feel."
You could've died right then and there and considered it a fulfilling life; pinned underneath your best friend, your roommate, fucked within an inch of your sanity while he murmurs the dirtiest sentences you ever imagined from those glorious lips of his.
"O-Oh, god- P-Please, daddy-"
"Please, what, baby? I love hearing you beg, but you have to tell me what you want."
He knew what you wanted, he could feel it with each pulse of your cunt, the way your leg tensed in his hold while your body writhed underneath him - you were close, and he wanted to see just how far he could push you.
"I-I want- Fuck-" You squeezed the flexed muscle of his bicep, while your free hand fisted the pillowcase underneath your head, trying your best to gather the brain cells to make a comprehensible sentence through his unrelenting pace. "I wanna come- wanna come for you," blinking up at him with glossy eyes, you submitted instantly, "please, daddy, can I?"
Chris' pace faltered for the smallest of seconds, his heart swelling and his dick aching for the release he'd been fighting back since he entered your warm pussy - there was no use in stalling for more time, not when you needed him as much as he needed you.
"Hold it for just a little longer, princess." When you gave a displeased whine, he leaned down to kiss the pout off of your face, "It won't be long, I promise - ten seconds, you can count with me, yeah?"
Nodding desperately, you snuck another kiss from him before waiting for his next instruction, trying your best to suppress your lingering orgasm.
"Good girl - now, can you use your fingers to play with your clit for me? You can keep holding onto me, just use your free hand."
You followed his directions diligently, quickly licking your index finger before managing to work your arm between your bodies and finding your puffy clit with ease; the lightest touch sending a shock of pleasure through your system.
"'S too much, I-I can't-"
He shushed you, "You can, I know you can, just count with me, okay? Focus on me, baby - starting from ten."
Swallowing back a whine, you took a shivering breath, "T-Ten."
"Good, keep counting."
As your slow, broken countdown continued, he took the time to adjust his position one final time; sitting up straight and using his left hand to gather your leg in the same position as your right, holding you spread open and fully subject to his will.
"Seven... S-Six- Oh my god-" Your eyes rolled, your body feeling like fire was liking at each of your limbs as you rubbed quick circles around your clit.
"Don't stop counting, princess," Chris grunted, licking his lips as sweat beaded along his forehead, "come on, five."
A short sob broke past your lips, eyebrows pinching together, "I c-can't- I can't, daddy!"
"Four." He continued on, angling your legs slightly higher and focusing on the almost hypnotizing wet slapping sound of your pussy all but drenching his cock and the sheets underneath. "Three - almost there, baby, keep holding it for me."
You made a noise, not caring what it sounded like as long as it was known that you were still hanging in there, if only by a thread.
"T-Two - my perfect girl, doing so well for daddy, s-so fucking proud of you," he gritted out, breaths coming in bated pants as he exchanged the speed of this thrusts for more power, watching your back arch off of the bed in the process. "One - come, come for me, baby."
Your body followed through before your mind had the chance to comprehend his words, white-hot pleasure flooding through your veins as you came with a cry of his name - at least, you hoped the sound that came out resembled his name.
Chris groaned, doing his best to fuck you through your orgasm until he came with a shivering gasp, almost pained, high pitched whines falling from his lips with each wave; his dick quickly being surrounded by the warmth of his cum filling the latex.
Hours could've passed before you were able to come back to your senses, blinking your eyes open and dazedly looking at the man above you.
Even after sending you to the moon and back, he looked as breathtaking as ever; chest heaving and head tossed back, large hands now caressing your thighs as your feet met the mattress once more.
"Fuck." He laughed breathlessly, lifting his head to look at you with glittering eyes, "You okay? That- I didn't go too far, did I?"
Oh, he was going to be the death of you.
Shooting him a tired smile, you shook your head, "I'm more than okay - that was amazing, daddy."
You didn't miss the way his dick twitched inside of you from your words, his hands squeezing you softly.
"Princess, as much as I love hearing you say that, I might end up fucking you through the mattress if you keep it up."
Biting your lip, you not-so-subtly glanced at the open box on his nightstand before looking at him with daring eyes, "If I call you my boyfriend, can you fuck me into the next morning?"
He paused as if heavily pondering your words, then slowly pulled out of your sensitive walls with a grunt, "If you let me call you my girlfriend and let me take you on a date, you can call me both and I'll fuck you until you can't walk."
A bright smile found its way to your face and you nodded happily, "Deal, boyfriend."
With a grin as bright as the sun, he made quick work of taking off the used condom before tying it and tossing it in the small trash near his nightstand; returning to hover over you with warm eyes, "Deal, girlfriend."
Safe to say, he upheld his end of the deal with flying colors, and you planned the date as soon as you regained the ability to walk a day later.
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✧. ┊Tagged lovelies: @goblinracha, @having-an-internal-crisis-rn, @midnightfrog625, @anyhow-everything, @bangchanbabygirlx, @sweetracha, @j-onedrabbles, @happilydeepestwonderland, @nightimescapes, @caitlyn98s, @ch4nn13luv, @ihrtlix, @sometimesleeknows, @jeonjungkookenthusiast1997, @instabull, @maximumkillshot, @y-ur--i, @acker-night, @dreamescapeswriting, @specialstay, @broken-glowsticks, @s00buwu, @dancerachaslut, @junglyric, @tinyelfperson, @jj-stay, @katsukis1wife, @inlovewithmusician, @keen-li, @armystay89, @main-character0, @vampcharxter, @ddyskz, @prettymiye0n, @bbgnyx, @ivyisnotokay
✧. ┊Tagged lovelies for Pt. 2 [If you want to be added to my official tag list please fill out the form below]: @turtledove824, @boi-bi-ahaha, @skzworlddomination44, @brojustfknkillm3
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So this is a weird ask but I figured an Actual Welsh Person would be the person to go to, and you've been pretty gung-ho about the language thing. So I hope I'm not bothering you with this.
Is there a cultural consensus on foreigners learning Welsh? I'm American and I don't have a single shred of Welsh ancestry. My family is historically German, and we've been here since the English Colony days, so it honestly seems really weird even to try to claim some tie to German heritage.
Anyway, my point is, I have absolutely zero legitimate claim to the Welsh language. I don't plan to travel to Wales in the foreseeable future. I have no reason to learn Welsh except that it sounds pretty and I enjoy a challenge.
Putting aside the issue of "lmao it's gonna be stupid difficult to learn an endangered language if you don't have anyone to speak it with" (I have a loose plan for dealing with that, and the experience of learning two languages to "can read most novels without needing the dictionary" level without anyone to speak them with in person already) entirely, do you reckon it's okay for me to study Welsh? I know Americans are really, really bad about just kinda assuming the whole world belongs to us, and I'm trying not to do that here. Especially because Welsh IS endangered.
I imagine your average Welsh person probably doesn't care what some random American does. But like, for people who care about the language...Would it be considered disrespectful or overstepping for me to study it? I don't expect you to speak for the entire country, of course, but I respect your opinion and I feel like you'd have a grasp on what the general feeling towards a foreigner like me might be.
Thanks for your time.
I honestly, truly, do not understand how the discussion around cultural appropriation has been twisted in the cultural zeitgeist to such an extent that people now feel anxiety about learning other languages.
This is not a personal attack on you, Anon - the gods only know that you clearly care and want to do the right thing, and that's beautiful and wonderful and also I will come back to extolling your personal virtues at the end of this post, so stay tuned. But I do want to take a moment here to talk about the broader issue at play, which I have seen echoed multiple times elsewhere, because fuck me what are we doing to ourselves.
Learn. Languages.
That is what languages are for! To be used for communication. If you don't learn languages, you are forcing everyone else to use yours. How have we somehow, as a culture, twisted that into being the less selfish option? How have we done that? I posted my favourite Welsh idiom recently, and someone reblogged it and wrote in the tags that they loved the idiom and would start using it, but they would do so in English because their "Welsh pronunciation would make their Welsh grandmother spin in her grave."
What kind of mental gymnastics is that?
How the fuck do you twist it so badly that you think taking a Welsh idiom for your own and exclusively using it in English is less offensive than saying it in Welsh but maybe a bit wrong? I've literally had people proclaim to me that they're learning Welsh on Duolingo but they never speak it because they're too self-conscious, and they tell me this not to highlight a massive flaw in themselves that they need to work on, but as though I'm supposed to pat them on the head and thank them for... still making me speak English to them.
There was that post where a Deaf blogger received an anonymous ask saying learning sign language is cultural appropriation, as though Deaf people haven't been calling for Sign to be taught in schools. As though a Deaf person being entirely isolated in everyday hearing society unless they have an interpreter with them is less offensive than a hearing person being able to use BSL.
Like, these are not sacred or religious languages. The purpose of Welsh or BSL or what have you is not to perform the Eleusinian mysteries. It's a living everyday language, same as English -
Except it's not the same as English. As Anon here so rightly points out, Welsh is endangered. That means we are desperate for people to learn it. That's how it will survive. That's how we reversed it from 'dying language' to 'living language', in fact - we managed to get lots of people to learn it. You know what is a threat, though? People not learning it because, like poor Anon here, they've been somehow convinced by Western society that you're only allowed to learn languages if you personally have a historic or cultural connection to them that you can prove via six forms of ID and a letter of recommendation from a druid. Or people never using it because they're too embarrassed to try and risk losing face by getting it wrong, or maybe sounding a bit silly, and thus forcing us to use English anyway. Those are threats.
Anon. Listen to me, feel the sincerity of my words: we adore you. We adore you. You cannot imagine how appreciated it is when someone learns Welsh. You cannot imagine how touched we are that you wanted to, that you tried, that you respected us enough and considered us valid enough that you made the effort. Our closest neighbours are the very people who are still trying to stamp out Welsh to this very day. Do you know the number 1 reaction I get, by a country mile, when I tell English people that I speak Welsh? It's some variant on a scoff, and the sentiment "Why? What's the point? Bit useless, isn't it?"
By a country mile. That's the reaction I expect, and brace for, and is overwhelmingly what I get.
So when someone who isn't Welsh actually chooses to learn Welsh?
Imagine what that feels like! To go from not-even-hidden disgust, from outright mockery and often active suppression campaigns, to a foreigner earnestly telling me that they love and respect my language so much they're trying to learn it. Imagine how that feels.
Please learn Welsh. Please learn it. We will love you for it. We will build you a statue. We will bake little Welshcakes with your face on in icing sugar. We will write you poems in complex rhyme. We'll name an Eisteddfod prize after you. We'll name at least, like, three sheep after you. Thank you, thank you so much for even wanting to learn. You're a delight and a marvel and a wonder. Your hair looks great today, as it does all days. You're a strong, independent human being of immense wisdom and compassion. If this were a Welsh myth you'd be a wise salmon the heroes came to for advice. What a fantastic human.
The welcome awaits if you choose to learn
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fanstuffrantings · 7 months
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A few things about Astarion that I need people to think about outside of him simply being flirty and attractive (since people keep reducing him to his sex scenes):
His route has a heavy focus on emotional intimacy and consent. You can sleep with him sure, but if in-between acts 2 and 3 you learn nothing about him and pressure him into having sex with you then you're not understanding his character and he'll only see you as someone who wants his body.
Ascended astarion is his bad/dark ending. I know people love it when he's powerful and ascended/durge is a relationship people love and I'm not here to say that's wrong or that you're a terrible person for doing it. But stop arguing that it's his happy ending, or that he's better for it when he literally loses himself and in a nonascended version he'll say he could feel himself changing in ways he didn't like. He becomes another cazador. He only truly expresses himself and feels release if he kills Cazador and doesn't ascend.
Unless you do the drow twin scene prior to beating Cazador you're not forcing him into anything. He gives approval for going through with it. Do I think he regrets it after because he realizes he was biting off too much too early? Yes. But it's literally him learning his boundaries and understanding what he is and isn't comfortable with. He's only just starting to be able to fully choose what he wants, sometimes you make mistakes. It's part of the process.
Astarion died young before he fully matured as an elf, but he wasn't a child. He was a magistrate in the city, he had a fully functioning brain. But just because he was an adult by human standards when he died doesn't make it any less heartbreaking. People dying in their 30s is still tragically young. And even more so for an elf.
(This one doesn't come up as often) he doesn't hate Gale, he is very much flirting with and attracted to Gale at in act 1 if you bring them around. In fact Shadowheart and Wyll are the only ones he has dislike for at any point and as the story goes he warms up to everyone. All the companions care for each other and it's one of the best found families in video games.
There are several companions I feel large portions of the fandom just misunderstand/don't fully read into and it's tiring because the devs made each one so layered and interesting. I just feel like since Astarion is essentially the face of the game now, he's the one who constantly gets boiled down to his most surface level qualities with little regard for his story as a whole.
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neptuneiris · 9 months
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detachment (02/03)
did Aemond Targaryen truly loved you?
pairing: prince!aemond × niece!reader
summary: aemond not only breaks your heart after so many love promises, he also breaks his betrothal to you without any justification and announces his betrothal to a baratheon girl. now you will be married soon too.
word count: 7.9k
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hello beautiful people, finally here is the chapter you have been waiting for so long, im so happy, I hope you like it a lot❤ thank you very much for reading🥺
comments and reblogs are always appreciated, thank u, you are all awesome❣
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—TWO MOONS AGO.
"I'm so sorry, my sweet girl."
"No, it's all right, mother. Do not worry."
"I know this is not what you wished for but—
"It is my wish."
You interrupt your mother with a small smile that she instantly knows is neither genuine nor convincing, to which she watches you for a few moments without saying anything, watching you intently.
She takes your hand and places the other on your right cheek to come closer and leave a sweet kiss on your left cheek that you allow to feel that love that only she transmits and comforts you.
She then pulls away from you a little without letting go and watches you with a small smile on her lips and a slight gleam in her beautiful lilac eyes.
"You know you have my full support, my love. And don't even think that I will leave you alone in all this," she assures you, "But I know you and you must not lie to me, Y/N."
You know that at this moment your gaze gives you away, as well as all the true feelings you are conveying but you still want to show your mother that you are willing to do your duty.
And it really is your relief that it is this person you are going to marry when it could have been worse.
"Mother, you must not worry about me."
"But of course I do," she tells you instantly, "You're my daughter and I love you."
"I love you too. But this marriage to Cregan Stark couldn't be better not only for me, but for the whole family," you remind her, "He is a respectful and honorable man. I know there will be much respect between us and eventually affection will be born. And we will have all the support of the North when the time comes for you to become queen."
She smiles softly again with that warmth and affection, gently stroking your cheek with her thumb, looking directly into your eyes with all that sincerity and love.
"But he's not the one you wish to marry, is he?"
So all those pent up feelings, they want to come out at that moment. And even more so because of the way she is talking to you and understands you completely.
"Even with all that your marriage to Cregan Stark offers…. it's not him."
You swallow hard and press your lips together, starting to feel the tears want to come out of your eyes, as well as all that feeling for everything that happened and thinking about everything that could have been.
You remember how a while ago everything was fine, how everything seemed fine, how you thought you knew certain things and knew certain people.
However, he broke your heart.
Worst of all, you never knew why. You really wanted to know what had happened, what had changed his mind and if you had done something wrong, but… nothing.
He left you totally in the dark with his reasons. He preferred you to suffer and forget everything as if nothing had happened from one day to the next to accept his sudden betrothal to Floris Baratheon.
And you truly wanted to understand at the time, feeling completely broken and shattered… but he never gave you an answer.
"It doesn't matter anymore, mother. He is betrothed and now so am I. I do not doubt that after my wedding with lord Stark, his with lady Baratheon will happen soon after. He made his decision moons ago and now so have I."
"Very well," she nods at you, "You learned quickly, my sweet girl. Just as I had to when I accepted my fate."
You smile.
"You mean my father?"
"Our story was in short times, always with a lot of duty involved and inconveniences. Until we could finally be together after that horrible night," she tells you softly, "But when you truly love a person, you can't help it and you just want to join your blood with them, no matter what."
You nod, lowering your gaze, understanding.
But really understanding.
You know that feeling and you know exactly who you used to feel that way with. You were even close to being able to bond forever. But now… you're about to do your duty without that person.
"Then, my sweet girl…" your mother says to you, getting your attention again, "I'll just make sure to arrive at King's Landing a day before the wedding, as you asked. Everything will be ready by the time we get there."
You smile softly in her direction, feeling very relieved at that and nod.
"Thank you, mother."
"Anything for you, my love."
After spending part of your afternoon with your mother, you head to another of the great rooms of the Dragonstone castle, where your brothers are practicing High Valyrian and your younger brothers are being cared for by the maids.
You immediately join in caring for your brothers, listening to Jace and Luke's Valyrian, correcting them on some pronunciations and helping them to formulate words correctly.
Then Rhaena enters the room as well to look after and keep little Joffrey company, letting you know that Baela has flown to Driftmark.
Normally as the night draws in, your mother and father also spend time in this Room, all together as a family, a time when Rhaenyra wishes she could freeze and stay all together like this forever.
And that's exactly what she thinks when she enters the Room and sees all her children, or almost all of them, together attending to different duties, with a little smile and loving look on her face.
Daemon is writing something on the large table, to which she turns to him, stroking her barely noticeable two-moon belly, with a new member to the family coming into the world soon, the prince or princess.
"What are you writing, my love?"
Daemon raises his gaze to her, with the seal of House Targaryen about to embed it in the letter.
"The word to Kings Landing with the news of Y/N's marriage to Lord Stark."
"Ah yes, I forgot to do that."
"And that's why I do it for you, ābrazȳrys."
Rhaenyra leaves a soft and loving kiss on her husband's head to continue on her way to her eldest sons, listening attentively to the High Valyrian, just like Y/N, ready to correct them.
Not long after, considering that the distance between Dragonstone and Kings Landing is not too much, the raven arrives at the Red Keep with the new and unexpected news, with Queen Alicent and her father Otto Hightower reading the message.
The Heir, Princess Rhaenyra returns to King's Landing in less than two moons with her prince consort Prince Daemon and her entire family to celebrate the wedding of Princess Y/N Velaryon to Lord Cregan Stark, Lord of Winterfell.
"This is vile and disgusting news."
"Father—
"With Lord Cregan Stark?" inquires Otto, "Do you know what this means, Alicent?"
"It can't be that bad, still Daeron's wedding to Lady Lannister adds soldiers and ships to us for Aegon's claim. So does Aemond's wedding to lady Baratheon."
"Rhaenyra will have the whole North on her side by the time the time comes and you know it. The whole fucking North fighting for her and her bastard daughter!" Otto exclaims in annoyance, "We can't let that wedding happen."
"Rhaenyra must already be getting everything ready at Dragonstone. And to try to stop her the wedding, she could easily marry Y/N to Lord Stark somewhere else," says the queen, "It will be useless."
"Call the Maester. Call the entire Council, immediately," Otto quickly orders one of his guards, annoyed and desperate.
The guard immediately complies with the Hand's order, so that very soon all the members enter and take their respective seats in the Council Chamber.
But not long after, Aegon and Aemond Targaryen also decide to burst into the room, Aemond mostly noticing that something is wrong and Aegon simply following, his grandsire surprised to see him in his five senses.
"What's the matter?" asks Aemond serious, approaching his mother.
But before his own mother can answer him, his grandsire does, only without answering him.
"Your wedding to Lady Baratheon will happen by the end of this month."
Aemond immediately observes his grandsire without any expression, hiding his surprise well, drawing the attention of everyone else in the room.
"We will send word to Storm's End's, Lady Floris should already be here by in less than five days and prepare everything immediately," Otto continues, "Not too soon after, we will send a raven to Oldtown and Prince Daeron's wedding to Lady Cerelle will also happen."
"May I ask, my Lord Hand, why so hurriedly?" asks lord Lannister.
"Yes, why?" inquires Aemond of his grandsire as well, with a tone of voice and a menacingly serious look.
But Otto Hightower deliberately ignores his grandson.
"Are you not pleased with the news, Lord Jason?" he inquires condecently, "After all, it is your daughter who is to marry a prince of the realm, my grandson."
"Not that I am complaining, my Lord, in fact I have been waiting to hear this news ever since we agreed to join our houses. But I was also hoping, just like my daughter, that the wedding would be relevant and not too attached to another wedding also of another prince of the realm. It certainly would not draw the attention of our people."
"This is not about getting people's attention, nor how attractive the union is, Lord Jason," Otto tells him seriously and clearly annoyed, "You should feel grateful that the union is going to happen, because I remind you that this is about Prince Aegon's claim to the Throne, or have you already forgotten?"
"I asked you a question and I'm not going to repeat myself," Aemond speaks again in his grandsire's direction, serious.
This immediately gets everyone's attention, but in the end it is Queen Alicent who responds in a soft, cautious voice.
"Y/N is going to be married."
This immediately gets Aemond's attention and also Aegon behind him, who was disinterested and even annoyed to hear his grandsire's words about his claim to the Iron Throne.
But this definitely gets his attention, he even watches his brother cautiously, waiting for his reaction, just like his mother.
However, Aemond keeps his usual neutral and at the same time serious face, hiding his true emotions very well, starting to feel how those true emotions run through his whole body and want to explode.
Otto watches him attentively, annoyed and serious, instantly knowing very well what he must be feeling. And that is what he, Otto Hightower, does not want.
"Yes, Aemond, with Cregan Stark, the Lord of Winterfell," he tells him seriously, "You too have already forgotten why you are marrying Lady Baratheon precisely?"
Aemond clenches his jaw, immediately this getting his attention and watching his grandsire with a deadly and threatening look, all this together with his posture showing that he is losing his patience.
And that everyone notices.
"Aemond," Alicent calls out to him, rising from his seat.
"When?"
Aemond's voice interrupts him, in the direction of his grandsire, his whole posture tense and his hands made into fists, his jaw clenched and his gaze like that of a dragon about to burn everything to the ground.
"I told you, by the end of this month your wedding—
"No, when will Y/N's wedding to Cregan Stark be."
He interrupts her in a firm, menacingly serious voice.
"It doesn't matter when it will be," Otto tells him in annoyance, raising his voice higher, drawing everyone's attention, demanding, "What matters right now is that these two weddings happen before the wedding of Rhaenyra's daughter to Lord Stark so as to invite all the great houses, even Cregan Stark and form alliances before Rhaenyra and Prince Daemon."
"In two moons, approximately."
Alicent replies to Aemond, noting how his anger grows more and more as his grandsire speaks, not giving him an answer.
"That's what they said on the raven they sent this afternoon from Dragonstone."
Aemond lowers his gaze, beginning to think about it, about how the wedding will take place here, at King's Landing, where he will have to be present and witness it all…to Y/N, his Y/N, getting married to Lord Cregan Stark.
Lord Cregan fucking Stark.
"I doubt we can do anything about it, my Lord," Jasper Wylde speaks, "The wedding is already a done deal, we will not succeed in convincing Lord Stark to change his allegiance."
"And this is a great advantage for Princess Rhaenyra and her claim," says Jason Lannister, " Her daughter, Princess Y/N and Lord Stark together is an excellent and convenient match."
At the words of some of the council members, Aemond can't help but feel downright sick, thinking of Y/N and Lord Stark.
As you should.
His own mind tells him, feeling the fire and anger coursing through his veins, unable to control himself, thinking about what is really going on here.
"We will do whatever it takes to still have as much support as possible. King Viserys will not last long and by now we would have to secure all possible alliances for when the time comes. If war falls upon us and if we pull this off… fighting Rhaenyra and her alliances won't be so hard."
"She will have the entire North fighting for her, my Lord."
One of the members tells him cautiously, thinking about the number of soldiers Princess Rhaenyra will have at her disposal, also all the people supporting her claim, that adding up to the whole Valley.
"That's why we need to be more clever," Otto Hightower insists, "My grandchildren's weddings will be paramount in this. We need to send a raven to Oldtown, now," he turns to the Maester, "I need Daeron here at King's Landing and your daughter as well, Lord Jason. After Aemond's wedding, he—
"No."
Aemond Targaryen completely interrupts his grandsire in front of the Queen and the entire Council, drawing everyone's attention, surprised by his boldness and deadly behavior in the direction of his grandsire, who also gives him a threatening look.
"You had plenty of time to plan my wedding with Lord Borros' daughter. It's not my fault that until now you are acting when your job as the Hand is to act since you knew the threats," he tells her seriously and completely firm with his words, "If you want a wedding, plan Daeron's, not mine. I will not be a part of your incompetence when I have already given you too much."
"You are forgetting your place, Aemond," Otto warns him in a careful tone and one in which he fully tells him that he does not want to contradict him now.
But Aemond has had enough.
"You are forgetting your place," he replies in kind.
"Aemond, that's enough," his mother calls to him instantly, letting out a long breath, "You don't want to get married now, that's fine. But don't forget that eventually you will have to," she reminds him earnestly, "After all, Lady Baratheon is still your betrothed and she along with Lord Borros expect the wedding to take place soon."
Again Aemond feels sick to his stomach as he listens to his mother's words, thinking of his betrothed, Lady Floris Baratheon. The very thought of marrying her makes him feel unhappy.
But it is the truth… she is still his betrothed and whether he wishes it or not, he will eventually have to marry her, because his family swore an oath with hers, not him, but his family.
And he has to live up to the weight of that oath.
"We should continue to discuss the marriage of Princess Y/N to Lord Stark, my Queen," says the Maester.
"There is nothing more to discuss, the chances are slim with Lord Stark and we will have to focus on bringing the marriage of my son and Lady Cerelle to the attention of the great houses."
Queen Alicent begins to lead the entire Council, as Otto Hightower continues to watch Aemond with daggers in his eyes, serious, furious and incredulous at his behavior.
He thought he already had everything under control, but Otto forgot that he is not a dragon and the blood of the dragon in anyone who possesses it, especially in Aemond, is chaotic and reckless.
"Congratulations, brother."
Aegon catches Aemond's eye, watching him over his shoulder as he gives him a friendly clap on the back, almost whispering his words.
"You said you hoped our sweet niece would soon outgrow you? Well, now she's marrying the lord of all Winterfell," he says with a small smile, "She's definitely outgrown you."
And with nothing more to say, Aegon leaves the Council Chamber, not interested in the matters of the realm, much less to plan a fucking wedding and have his grandsire take it upon himself to form alliances for his claim to the Throne, as if he cares about such a thing.
As Aemond stands still for a few seconds, watching him go, his words repeating over and over in his mind, anger again coursing through his body, fire, hatred.
He wishes he could prove his brother right, but the truth is that he is very wrong.
Unable to stand it any longer, he quickly heads out of the room as well, not wanting nor caring at all to discuss these matters, this room really displeasing him by bringing back bad memories.
And as soon as he faces the corridors of the Keep, again Aemond remains static for a few moments and his mind again thinking about things he really doesn't want to think about.
But he can't help it.
Like that time he also rushed out of this room, leaving the woman he loves behind, tearing her apart in the worst possible way and pretending not to care.
Even as one of the fiercest and most brutal knights of his time, Prince Aemond doesn't know where he found the courage and strength to break Y/N's heart… his Y/N.
He has always characterized himself as an honorable and respectful man, especially to Y/N, but what he did to her… was out of his nature and highly unpleasant.
And once he was in the safety of his chamber, the first thing he did was sit in one of his chairs near his fireplace, wanting to feel the fire, with the realization slowly starting to become clearer to him, realizing what he had done.
Aemond remembers the last time he cried, it was when he was a little boy in one of his episodes over his lost eye.
A terrible migraine kept him awake for a whole day, he couldn't even get out of bed and couldn't bear to see the light of day. His mother held him tight and was there for him all the time, not even leaving him alone for a second.
Alicent tried and ordered everything to make him feel better, but the Maesters couldn't do much and all he could do, all he learned to do since he was a little boy, was to have to endure the pain.
And since then, the first tear falls down his right cheek.
Aemond, upset, angry and disgusted with himself, cries. And he actually allows himself to cry as he remembers his Y/N's precious face completely shattered and red from her crying, her whole look confused and in need of explanations.
And he couldn't even give her that, an explanation.
And the worst part was that they already had it all. It was all said and done, they were going to be husband and wife finally, as they had asked for so much.
But he finally snatched away her illusion and simply left her without explanations. And that's what makes him lose control completely.
Furious, feeling like a coward, an idiot and annoyed with himself, he lets out a growl and starts breaking everything in his room, with despair and anger in his body.
He screams and blames himself for that weight on his shoulders, a weight that does not belong to him, a weight that he had nothing to do with from the beginning and a weight that he had to let go of the woman he loves when he almost had her because of his family's ambition.
That night the servants had to silently clean the room of Prince Aemond, who, unable to bear it any longer, went for a ride in Vhagar, wanting to forget everything and everyone.
And now, in the present, him in the middle of the hall with the thought of Y/N marrying Lord Stark soon… it's too much.
And he knows it's the same feeling she must have felt when he broke her heart.
He couldn't agree more that he deserves it, but he didn't want to let her go either. Nothing he did was really his choice, but that was the right decision.
And now…he still has to face the consequences of his own actions: Y/N's marriage to a man who will not be him.
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"There you have it, my princess."
"Thank you, Emelly," you smile at one of your maids, who leaves you a tray with your almost every night tea so you can fall asleep, "You can rest now."
" You don't need anything else, princess?"
"No, I'm good, thank you. See you in the morrow."
"Of course, princess. Get some rest."
The maid leaves your room, who looking at you in your mirror you continue brushing your straight, silver hair, preparing for sleep.
You've already gone to your siblings' and Rhaena's rooms, especially the little ones', to wish them good night.
Your mother and father have also already come to speak with you and have your usual conversations of the night, where they talk about your wedding to Lord Cregan more than anything else, Daemon and Rhaenyra making sure nothing else haunts your mind.
They know that a wedding can cause too much stress, especially when you're marrying the one you didn't expect from the start, talking about duty and what's expected next from you and your husband.
Your older brother Jace had told you it's a stressful but very necessary conversation, considering the next wedding in the family will be his and Baela's.
You let out a long breath, leave your brush on your dressing table and head off to drink your tea, needing to sleep.
You take the cup from the tray in your hands when the napkin catches your attention. You frown and notice how there is something sticking out from under that napkin, hidden but wanting to be seen specifically by you.
You set the cup down on the table and pick up the napkin, curious and wary, realizing that it is the small envelope of a letter, definitely catching your attention more than before.
You analyze it and there is no indication of who the message might be from. So you decide to open it, finding a small sentence and an addressee that makes your heart jump in your chest and your lips parted.
Meet me at our place by the Hour of the Wolf. I need to explain everything to you, please. I will be waiting.
A.T.
Your pulse starts to race, your whole body starts to shake and you read the message over and over again, your system making you feel more emotions and feelings as you read who has sent this to you.
You think to yourself that this must be a joke or even perhaps some kind of trap, thinking that this can't be. But you know it's him.
It's his handwriting, you would recognize it on any piece of paper, as well as the signature he always uses in all his messages, short and subtle.
Now you understand why so much mystery. But you honestly don't understand how he could have gotten his message to you. It's practically impossible.
Unless he hired or paid irrelevant people, because Emelly is extremely loyal to you and would not have done this considering your history with your uncle, as well as anyone else knows it.
Your uncle who right now must be waiting for you.
Your mind tells you as you look at his message in front of you, surprised with your parted lips, with a feeling starting to invade your chest that you don't know exactly what it is but… it causes you some emotion.
And you can't. You truly can't do this.
You remember everything that happened, what he did to you, what his grandsire did to you too, and how broken you felt, how he broke your heart and left you without explanation, only to become betrothed to Floris Baratheon.
You swallow hard, walking to your huge windows, looking out at the night outside and barely lit by the fire torches that light a little of the roads around Dragonstone, looking out beyond the sea, in the direction where that island is and where you and Aemond used to meet.
You press your lips together, feeling a sharp pain in your chest, as well as that uncertainty and beginning to take into consideration what he has written to you on that little piece of paper.
But again… you can't.
You are both betrothed. You are betrothed to Lord Cregan Stark, you will marry him soon and then… probably he will marry Lady Floris Baratheon as well.
You know you shouldn't even consider it, you know you shouldn't feel that curiosity and longing, because he doesn't deserve it.
That's why you make your decision just as he made his moons ago.
Even though you admit that it hurts and even costs you, you still think of yourself, because he doesn't deserve you to feel this way about him, not after all the damage caused.
You don't know what Aemond really thinks, but it certainly isn't entirely wise to ask you to meet in the hour of the Wolf as if nothing had happened.
And what a coincidence that he does this just when your wedding is in a few more weeks.
You stare out over the sea for a few more moments, thinking, but having already made up your mind. You let out a long breath and without hesitation, you head to your fireplace and throw his message into the fire.
Then you head back to your table to drink your tea and drink it all down so you can finally sleep and forget this ever happened.
While on the small island in Blackwater Bay, Aemond Targaryen keeps Vhagar close by, watching as he sits on a huge rock on the sand of the beach towards the direction of Dragonstone, waiting for you.
He doesn't really find much to entertain himself with, beginning to feel anxious with each passing minute and still not seeing any dragons approaching in the night sky, getting up and pacing back and forth, letting out long breaths and trying to calm himself.
He would be a fool not to have thought that maybe you would ignore him and not even in your greatest madness, the other side of the Targaryen coin, would you agree to meet him after all that happened.
Of course he had thought about it. But he still decided to risk it.
But the minutes pass and pass, with Aemond waiting for you, disappointment and reality coming at him like a strong wave every moment he is still there alone on the island.
He feels frustration beginning to course through his body, also anger but not for you, but for himself.
He thinks of your soon marriage to him, Lord Stark and feels more despair coursing through him, not even bearing the thought.
He asks the Seven to you please show up, really wanting to explain himself.
But he knows it is too late. He was never going to get this chance, because he really hurt you too much and he knows it, he knows it and he has the memory more vivid than ever.
But even though he knew it, he can't help but be disappointed as he continues to wait for a dragon in the night sky that never came.
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—PRESENT
The days go by too fast after the conversation with your mother and after so many preparations and requests for the wedding.
When the wedding day finally arrives.
Your mother overlooks her pregnancy, considering she is barely four moons pregnant, to ride Syrax and take her with her to King's Landing while you ride Silverwing so you both arrive in the capital a day before the wedding, as you wished.
You try to suppress all feelings along with the nerves of returning to the Red Keep, where there are many buried memories and people from the past. However, you are here for your wedding.
You know that this visit is brief just to get the wedding over with and nothing more, then your family will return to Dragonstone or probably your mother will decide to stay again to take care of your grandsire, while you will go to Winterfell.
You really want to know the North. It was one of the few conversations you had with Lord Stark and he agreed, as well as both of you being present at Court after spending married moons.
And you really have no intention of anything else happening and just let it happen as it should. And just before the sun sets, you and your mother arrive at King's Landing.
You meet your father, your brothers, sisters, also your grandmother Rhaenys and your grandsire Corlys, even also Queen Alicent welcomes you both back and also gives you her congratulations for your wedding.
If you didn't know her, you wouldn't know that her smile is fake. Clearly Alicent didn't want you to marry her son but neither did she want you to marry a person as influential as Lord Stark. But honestly you don't care.
She is the one who directs you and your mother to the king's chambers, to whom your mother wishes to speak and also in case she wants to dedicate a few words to you for your wedding.
On your way back to your room you meet your aunt, sweet Helaena, who welcomes your mother with a charming look and smile, also you, congratulating you on your wedding.
Fortunately you don't meet any other relevant people, just as you didn't see him or his betrothed anywhere, which you are thankful for.
Because the sooner this could happen, without distractions and unexpected inconveniences, the better.
The only thing you remember about that night when you arrived at King's Landing is that you had to drink a large and considerable amount of your tea in order to sleep, not being able to fall asleep because you were thinking about tomorrow.
And honestly also for thinking a little about him.
You were afraid that he would suddenly enter your chamber through the secret door, because surely he hasn't forgotten his request to meet you on the island to explain everything and you never showed up, but fortunately that didn't happen.
And when you least expect it, you are already at the celebration feast with all the guests present, you looking like a bride, waiting for your betrothed, everything going according to your mother's plan.
The common thing in a wedding is to get married at the Septon and then move on to the feast, but in this case, your mother chose the other way around, just like her wedding to your father, Sr. Laenor.
You learned that Alicent had questioned this, but your mother didn't care much, just reminded her that this was how her wedding had once been and that this way, you would feel less overwhelmed, knowing you perfectly well.
When it all begins.
They have already announced the king, also all your family, only the Hightower-Targaryen and also your betrothed are missing.
Your grandsire is seated at the large table next to his wife on the right side, while your mother is seated on his left side, followed by your place and then your betrothed's place. Your father takes a seat at the head of the table on the left side along with your brothers and sisters.
All the lord's and lady's present are spread throughout the Throne Room, as the food will soon be served and the musicians are already in position to begin at any moment.
Your mother at your side holds your hand to give you her support and her soft, sweet smiles in your direction to help with your nerves. Although she also makes sure that your entire appearance is intact.
It was always Rhaenyra's wish that her daughter, her first daughter, would have a wedding like hers was.
She would also prefer a Valyrian wedding, in fact that was her illusion when the king gave his blessing for the wedding between Y/N and Aemond.
But now, things are different and considering that Lord Stark is not Targaryen, clearly, a Westerosi wedding was the best option. And you did not complain at all.
In fact, it filled you with excitement and affection that when your father and grandfather saw you entering the Room, with your appearance for the occasion, they instantly told you that you wore them many years ago, when they were also in this same place and your mother married your father, Laenor.
A white dress with shoulder-length sleeves draws attention with golden details and some chains adorn around your waist with dragon figures.
Your hair falls in elegant waves, reaching above your waist, with some very subtle braids adorning the top of your head.
Your mother wanted some golden pins to be placed between your hair, also jewelry such as gold necklaces, rings and bracelets, to look more and properly like a Targaryen princess.
When at that moment, they announce the missing people at the big table. The people or rather the person you most expected and never wanted to arrive at the same time.
"Prince Aegon Targaryen, first born son of King Viserys Targaryen with his lady wife, Princess Helaena Targaryen."
The doors directly in front of you allow you to see the entrance of your uncle and sweet aunt who together make their way over to you to take a seat beside Queen Alicent.
Aegon's appearance is appropriate, however, due to all the rumors that keep spreading to Dragonstone, his condition is far from the best for a prince of the realm. His tired face with large bags under his eyes and his clear boredom and disinterest in being here is clear.
However, after all he seems to be willing to drink wine and enjoy himself.
But your sweet aunt by his side completely overshadows him once the view is on her and her beautiful sky blue dress with light silver tones and all her bright and sweet look that characterizes her so much.
When they announce the next people and you try not to make a big deal of it once Aegon and Helaena take their seats.
"Prince Aemond Targaryen, second son of King Viserys and Prince Daeron Targaryen, the third and final son of the king."
So both of them, he, now enter the Throne Room and you avoid looking too much, as well as feeling too much.
You try to distract yourself with the fact that you hadn't seen Daeron in a very long time, nor had anyone else, not even your mother or father. You thought he would still be in Oldtown because he wasn't even here for Helaena and Aegon's wedding.
Maybe he really wanted to fly here, but he was not allowed to, maybe because of his age, knowing that Queen Alicent does not like dragons and is very overprotective in that aspect.
But now that you are looking at him, he is tall, very tall. Not as tall as he is, but for his age, he's definitely growing into a man. But even though you want to focus on Daeron, you don't as you focus on him, inevitably.
His walk hasn't changed, neither has that determination, that confidence and that kind of power he possesses just by looking at him, also that fear and respect at the same time.
And his appearance… hasn't changed either.
Maybe his continuous training has made him look a bit stockier of his arms and his body in general, but his hair, his face and his eye patch is the same.
But he gives you the impression that he's even more handsome.
You look away from him in an instant, as everything that happened comes back to you in a matter of seconds, which is inappropriate. But all you can think about is him.
His hugs, kisses, caresses… all those words of love, all those wishes and all those promises… all only to end in an unexplained broken heart. You swore that he and you were destined to burn together. You swore that you would marry in the tradition of your house.
You swore it would be him and you.
But he made his decision.
And now here you are. He's betrothed and so are you, where by the end of the day you'll be married.
You completely avoid looking at his face once he starts to walk up the steps to take a seat next to his brothers, just like Daeron. You don't feel his gaze at any moment, just as you don't dare to look at him either.
When you ask yourself; where is his betrothed?
She must be here for such celebrations if they are betrothed. And you are sure that Floris Baratheon would not want to miss such an important celebration at the Red Keep.
However, he is all alone and his betrothed seems to be nowhere to be found. Doubt lingers but the feast gives you something new to think about when they announce your betrothed.
"Cregan Stark, lord of Winterfell and Warden of the North, the future lord husband of the bride, Y/N Velaryon."
At that moment, everyone at the table rises to greet your betrothed who walks towards you with a kind and respectful smile, looking very well for all this celebration. Or at least most of the people at the table stand up….
You can notice out of the corner of your eye how on Queen Alicent's side some people are still seated, but you don't dare look at them, though you get an idea of who they might be.
Still you focus on your betrothed who bows to the king once he arrives at the table and then makes his way to you to take a seat next to you.
Not before taking your mother's hand to plant a gentle kiss on the back of it, which she accepts with a kind and sweet smile and then turns to you and does the same with more affection.
You smile in his direction as you return his gesture by placing a soft kiss on his cheek and then both of you take a seat, as well as everyone else. When your grandsire, the king, gives a short speech before the feast begins.
And once everything has been said, the feast begins. The music starts and the food is served.
You feel his gaze for a few seconds, not long enough, but you don't notice him at all and continue to enjoy the feast. You talk to your mother from time to time and also to your betrothed, that is if your father and Jace are not talking to him asking him about Winterfell and the Wall.
Your sisters also ask you from time to time if you are feeling well and you can only nod, telling yourself that this is really happening and you have to completely ignore his presence.
When the time comes for the opening of the dance.
Cregan rises from his seat first and offers you his hand to lead you to the center of the Room, which you gladly accept and together you walk to dance in full view of everyone, a traditional Westerosi dance.
It is a simple dance, nothing difficult and you really enjoy it, while you focus your gaze at all times on him, Lord Cregan, who also smiles softly in your direction and does perfectly the right steps, all under the watchful eye of all the nobles present and also of your family.
Both of you stand back to back, and then both of you slowly raise your arms to shoulder height, while you can't help it and turn your gaze towards him, already feeling since the dance started his burning gaze.
Aemond has a meaningful look on his face when your gaze meets his, acting nonchalant, watching you intently, raising his wine glass to his lips.
You can only smile really ungracefully and turn your gaze to the front, continuing to dance and focusing only on your betrothed.
While Aemond at all times… wants this to be over and done with. Though I'd prefer to think this isn't really happening.
He feels like an alluring force, as he can't take his eye off of you, looking at you so beautiful in that dress, knowing in an instant that this is not the dress you would have worn for their wedding. But you still look really beautiful.
A true Targaryen beauty.
A warm feeling envelops him every second he sees you there, so perfect, dancing, smiling and catching everyone's attention, his especially at your every move, not realizing that his face gets softer every second as he watches you.
However… everything is replaced by hatred and anger when those smiles are directed at Lord Stark. And by the way he looks at you too… he wants to burn everything to the ground, clenching his hands into fists.
"Easy, little brother."
Aegon murmurs behind him, over his shoulder, amused, his breath smelling very strongly of wine.
"Everyone can sense how you're starting to wake up. You don't want to cause a fucking scene at our niece's wedding because of your jealousy, do you? Grandsire won't be too pleased."
Aemond can only feel that rage come over him more, knowing full well that Aegon has no intention of calming him down, but to provoke him further and do exactly as he has told him.
And he is succeeding.
Especially in the moment when he again focuses on you, smiling at Lord Stark, glowing and looking this beautiful but for him, Lord Stark, not for him, the one she was supposed to marry and be completely his.
And he regrets it so much, he regrets it so much that he called off their wedding and also leaving you without explanation, knowing that this is exactly what he deserves, to see you happy without him.
As the dance of just the two of them ends and a new song begins, in which he watches as Y/N, his Y/N, places one of her hands on Lord Stark's shoulder and the other intertwines with his, his other hand on her waist, this only making him angrier.
A more choreographed dance begins and the nobles in pairs also begin to join the center of the Room to dance, beginning the real celebration.
And Aemond sinking in his own misery, thinks that he could have survived watching Y/N dance with Lord Stark at an appropriate distance. But now they are both chest to chest, smiling and talking about something with all the nobles also dancing around them.
He doesn't understand that important thing that the two of them are talking about, but he doesn't like it at all, neither does the closeness. In fact he doesn't like any of it.
All he wants is to get her away from him, away from all of this and make her his, finally, no matter what.
His breathing starts to get heavier by the moment, thinking that by the time this is over, she will already be married to him and they will go away together, where they will have to consummate the marriage.
The very thought makes him only feel more enraged and more courageous to snatch her from his arms, not caring about her family and his, not caring about his grandsire and his words, not caring about his mother's words either about "you have to control yourself and think of us."
Not only does Aegon notice her state, so does his grandsire, who watches him intently and cautiously, noticing the look on Lord Stark's face more than menacing, about to do something foolish even though he was very clear with him before attending this feast.
He also catches the eye of Rhaenyra, who watches her husband and subtly points to her half-brother, instantly Daemon knowing exactly what is going on.
And how could he not know?
It reminds him of him many years ago, also watching the woman he loves, about to marry someone else who is not him.
He places a small half smile, bringing his wine glass to his lips, watching his nephew attentively and amused, almost expectantly, wondering even though Aemond has his full attention on you, if he will finally do something about it or what.
"Aemond," his grandsire mumbles to him.
But Aemond, beginning to go into his madness, doesn't watch or listen to him, watching you intently.
"Aemond, I'm warning you," his grandsire insists.
"Oh come on grandsire," Aegon tells him amused, "You know it will be useless. I can tell you don't know him."
And even though Aemond is immersed in his madness, he still thinks and remembers the words of his grandsire and mother.
"I will overlook that it was you who prevented the raven to Storms Ends from arriving when you knew perfectly well that your betrothed should have been here days ago."
His mother tells him seriously and annoyed.
"Now you will attend this wedding alone and I expect you to behave yourself. Just as I expect you to come to terms with the idea that you will marry Lady Baratheon by the end of next month, without protest."
"And you are not going to commit any of your foolishness at the Y/N wedding, do you understand me?" Otto immediately threatens him, "You're not going to talk to Y/N, you're not going to threaten Lord Stark either, and you're going to let the wedding happen in peace, is that clear? "
Aemond feels a bitter feeling, continuing to watch you attentively and him watching threateningly, with the fire in his body about to explode.
"You know what your problem is, grandsire?" Aegon says to Otto Hightower, who watches him seriously and on the verge of losing his patience, "You question the blood of the dragon too much."
And in that same instant, Aemond rises from his seat in a confident movement, with his gaze firmly fixed on you, who are completely disinterested in what is happening with him, completely focused on Lord Stark.
And Aemond's movement completely catches the attention of his grandsire, his mother, also your mother and father, who in an instant look at each other, definitely remembering the past.
Aemond makes his way towards you, not caring about anything.
He doesn't care about his mother and grandsire, he doesn't care about the war that will probably befall them when his father dies, the only thing he cares about at this moment is you.
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raineydays411 · 9 months
Text
My Fathers' Daughter pt 13
Hello everyone! Can I just say thank you to everyone for the love and support! Thank you everyone for sticking by me while I took a break. Thank you everyone for the kind messages and ideas. I'm the type of person that needs positive reassurance so really, it's you guys that are the reason I returned to writing.
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For the first time in months you felt at peace.
Ironically, it was when you were shoved in a stinky backseat of a dirty taxi. But you were in a stinky taxi with people you truly love.
And Dopinder.
But even he's better than being in that house right now. Anything truly is.
"Hey" A soft voice breaks your thoughts, you turn from where you're looking out the window.
Peter was gazing at you with concern in his eyes. He had his own reservations about coming to get you, that's why Wade had decided to kidnap him. But seeing you, practically throw yourself into him and cry?! He didn't need any more convincing than that.
One thing Y/n Stark does not do is let people see her cry.
"Are you okay?" He asks, knowing that you're not but he knows that you won't tell him if he doesn't ask.
You take a look into his eyes, seeing concern. Then from the corner of your eye you see Wade turn his head an inch, trying to subtly listen in without giving away the fact that he cares about you.
"I'm.." You pause, feeling a knot in your throat, " I'm just really craving a burger."
"What the dick?!" Wade screams from the front, startling all of you in the car, and causing Dopinder to swerve, " We came here for emotional support goddamn it, let us support your emotions!!"
You chuckle at the outburst, mood momentarily lifting, " You can support me by getting me something to eat outside this taxi. It reeks back here...no offense Dopi"
"Non taken Ms. Stark, I am well aware of the unpleasant scents in the back."
Dopinder makes a stop at what looks like a local burger joint in the city , allowing you and Peter to take a breath of fresh air.
Or at least as fresh as Gotham city air could be.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Back at the Manor, Christine and Bruce are having a long overdue conversation about you and her relationship.
" I just don't understand where everything went so wrong" Christine cried, face held in her hands," I just don't"
"Perhaps when you stopped visiting her when we adopted Dick" Bruce said in a semi sarcastic semi serious voice.
Christine shot a glare to her husband, " I'm glad you find the destruction of my relationship with my daughter funny Bruce, I really do."
Bruce sighs from where he's standing, " I don't find it amusing one bit, but Christine you have to admit this situation is your fault."
"I know it is! Believe me I know" Christine shouts, " These last few months, all I've been reminded is that it's my fault!"
"But where is your accountability?" Bruce asks, " I don't hold what you did against you because it's not my place. The kids don't because quite frankly, this hasn't affected them except for Cassie who thinks you're replacing her, and Damian, who sees you sad and believes Y/n is the sole cause of it."
Christine sighs, the few months you have been in the home, she has noticed Cassie's jealousy towards you and the resentment for the situation. She's done her best to reassure her that she has enough love for the two of you girls, but she still insisted on being as far away from you as possible. Damian...Damian is young and perceptive but difficult so she isn't so worried about him.
"If Y/n just spent time with them--"
"It isn't her responsibility to reassure your children that she isn't taking you away from them. Hell Christine, it isn't her responsibility to make anything easier for you." Bruce says impatiently, " I have been holding my tongue because you're my wife above anything and I am on your side. But being a husband and on your side means that I have a responsibility to tell you when you are wrong."
"Then tell me Bruce, tell me what I'm doing wrong. Please beacause every move I make, I just mess things up." Christine cries, genuienly asking for her husbands help
Bruce looks Christine in the eye, " Well first, you have to stop forcing your motherhood on that poor girl"
He holds a hand up before Christine can say anything, " I know that biologically you are her mother, but you know as well as I do that biological relation has no meaning."
Christine nods, allowing Bruce to continue
"The child you knew is not the young lady you want to get to know." Bruce says sternly, " She has life experiences that you were not a part of, and most of all she's not looking for a mother, Christine she has one. It's just not you."
Christine bursts into tears, the weight of that statement hitting her heart. Bruce gathers her in his arms.
"You need to get to know Y/n not as the child you left behind but as Y/n. That's what all of us need to do."
Christine weeps silently in her husbands chest, truly absorbing his words.
She knows he's right. He usually is.
But it hurts her. She truly has to acknowledge the one thing she has ever been ashamed about. The one thing that she has been repressing and repressing all these years.
That she abandoned you.
She abandoned you. She abandoned you when you were six and she didn't show up to the mothers day dance.
She abandoned you when you were eight and she promise dthat she would take you to get your ears pierced and she didn't show up because of a phone call.
And she abandoned you when you were nine, and she adopted Dick.
"What I don't think I understand is why?" Bruce asked quietly.
All these years, she said it was because she was needed more at the manor rather than in New York. But why did she really?
"Why?" Christine repeats quietly, " I..."
Why did she? What on earth possessed her to do the one thing she promised she'd never do the day you were born.
"I don't know." She says, " I.. spent years, hiding this huge secret from you. Years taking back and forth trips from here to New York, pretending she didn't exist or pretending like you didn't. I just..."
Bruce hums, urging her to continue
" And seeing the disappointment every time I left and didn't take her or disappointment from Tony that I didn't choose them. " She teared up, she hadn't even thought about the pain she put that man through, " Then it was the disappointment from Dick everytime I left. It got too.."
"Too hard." Bruce finished for Christine,
" Yeah," Christine sighed, " I just wanted to stop all the lying and the double lives, but by the time it became too much...it was too deep and I was scared I'd lose it all."
Bruce stayed quiet holding his wife, "I would've hoped that you had enough faith in me to tell me"
Christine scoffed, " Please, do you really believe that at that time you would've forgiven me? Before Damian?"
Bruce sighed, " I guess not."
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
As the conversation between Bruce and Christine went on, the kids were having one of their own.
"I don't understand what's so good about her anyway" Cass mumbles, " All she's done since she's been here is cause trouble"
"Yeah like any of us made Ma's life easy since we got here?" Jason spits back defending you, " Dick you didn't even talk to Ma because of your fight with Bruce, I died, Tim didn't even consider her a mother for years, Damian..is damian and hated her for months, plus is a product of Bruce cheating, and you Cass, you almost killed her before you became family."
Everyone stayed silent as Jason basically read them to filth.
"Why?" Damian asks quietly, " Why does everyone like that girl so much?"
"She's just had a hard go of it Damian, just like all of us." Dick said softly, " Think about how you felt when your mother stopped coming around. When you came here and didn't know anyone."
Damian stayed quiet.
"I know you love Mom, I do too" Dick continued, " But the hostility towards Y/n has to end. From all of us."
They stood quiet, letting the words sink in.
"I have been quite pleasant towards her actually" Jason said smugly
"Yeah cause you think with your dick and not your brain" Tim said smartly, only to receive a slap on the back of his head.
"That's my sister you fucking idiot" Jason says angrily.
Dick smiled, glad that at least one person was truly and genuinely on your side in this house, even if it's not him.
" How about we take her out?" Dick says, " Both her and Mom need some space, there's no point in her staying in that room all day and night."
Jason nods," Yeah, that's actually a good idea."
The two oldest sons rise, about to head to you room when Damian speaks up
"You won't find her there."
The boys pause and look at him
"What did you do to her you demon?" Jason says suspiciously
Damian rolls his eyes, " I've done nothing of the sort, but I saw her sneak out and leave in a taxi with an Indian man, a man in a red suit and unfortunate looking face, and a teenager in hello kitty sleeping pants."
Silence.
"Okay, if you're having a stroke please let me know so I can take you to the hospital." Tim said looking concerned.
Damian rolled his eyes again, " She left."
Jason was already barging into your room not even bothering to knock, seeing your room empty and the window open.
"Fuck."
Dick raced in after him seeing the empty room
"Well fuck."
They look at eachother, wondering who was going to tell their mother that you were gone but it was actually Damian that suggested
"Perhaps we should go after her? Mother and Father seemed rather preoccupied at the moment."
Jason looked at Dick and said, " She couldn't have gotten too far."
"Well, it has been a couple hours since she left." Damian adds
"Hours?!" Dick shouts, " Damian why didn't you say anything?"
"I don't like her." Damian rolls his eyes.
"Where's Y/n?" a voice asks
All heads turned to the doorway, seeing their father standing there.
"Um... about that."
"Find her, and you all better hope she's okay."
Everyone scrambled, either to put their suits on or to just make it out of the house.
He said that with his Batman voice.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Back with you and the red team, as Wade took to calling you all, you all were eating burgers in the parking lot of the now closed burger joint.
" So are you going to tell us what happend or what?" Wade ask with food falling from his stuffed mouth.
You and Peter look on with disgust.
"What?" Wade asks, " Go on and tell us about your mommy issues."
You roll your eyes and look away, missing the look Peter gives to Wade for being to crass.
You get lost in thought, the argument still fresh on your mind.
It made you so angry.
Why? Why did she hide those emails?
The one thing you wanted most in this whole situation was to go home. You missed your father, your mother, the team. Your family.
Instead, she made you believe that your father just forgot about you and your family didn't miss you.
While you knew logically that was impossible, you still stood up late at night because of the doubts creeping in. You cried, longing to hear your father croon rock music while he was tinkering with something, or the soft voice of your mother as she handled some business. You missed the smell of the training room and the sound of Steve teasing whoever he chose to tourture train that day. You missed FRIDAY. The tech. Your life.
"What happened in there" Peter asked softly.
You maintain eye contact with him for about a second before looking away, feeling ashamed with your emotional state.
"I couldn't take it anymore" You said softly, "These people...they weren't... they weren't mean to me or anything but I didn't belong there."
You take a pause then continue, " It's like... I had no purpose there. You know? At home, I help dad with whatever he needs, I helped mom with the business, hell I could just take a step outside. But here? I'm either in my room or being snuck out by Jason for a few hours. I can't go into a room without killing the happy family vibe they have going on. I'm just..."
You choke up, the knot in your throat growing, "I'm just a reminder of the past. Of the life she didn't want."
Peter's eyes soften even more, he reached out a comforting hand.
"I have to be there, while she and her family are happy then I walk in and it's like I'm either a ghost or a pest." You cry tears falling from your eye, " I feel so unwanted. I've never felt this way in my life."
"Didn't your mom abandon you?" Wade asks, getting an elbow to the side by Dopinder.
That comment causes you to cry more, but before Peter can make a move Wade actually pulls you in a hug.
"Alright Alright" Wade says, " Look kid, obviously you're happy there, so how about we go find those asshole that are looking for you and take them out ourselves?"
You sniff and look up at him, " What?"
"Yeah. That's the whole reason you're here. So lets kill those motherfucker and you can go home and forget this shit hole of a city. Seriously it's disgusting here."
You chuckle wetly, " It is gross here. I thought New york was bad"
The four of you laugh, the mood finally lifting.
But good moments never last forever.
Peter's head jerks up, face shifting from amusement to concern
"Guys there's something wro-" Peter gets cut off.
"How about we make it easier for you, now you don't have to look for us." A voice says, you aren't able to see it before you feel Wades body jerk and suddenly there's a pain in your arm.
You look down and see a dart, and you're barely able to make out the blue and red dots on the building across the street before darkness consumes you and you hit the ground.
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captianbrnes · 3 months
Text
Pretty like the Sun
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Summary: When you start to doubt yourself, Bucky is here to pick up the pieces you left behind.
Warnings: Insecure reader, that's all i think
Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Fem!reader, friends to lovers
Word count: 1k
⋆⁺₊⋆ ☀︎ ⋆⁺₊⋆⋆⁺₊⋆ ☀︎ ⋆⁺₊⋆⋆⁺₊⋆ ☀︎ ⋆⁺₊⋆⋆⁺₊⋆ ☀︎ ⋆⁺₊⋆⋆⁺₊⋆ ☀︎ ⋆⁺₊⋆⋆⁺₊⋆ ☀︎ ⋆⁺₊⋆⋆⁺₊⋆
You don't even remember how it started. It just switched one day and now all you could focus on was ur ‘faults’.
Were you even fit to be an avenger? How did people like you? Did your friends even truly like you? Weeks went by and you could feel yourself slipping more and more, you tried to act normal to your super friends hoping no one would notice. Bucky did.
⋆⁺₊⋆ ☀︎ ⋆⁺₊⋆⋆⁺₊⋆ ☀︎ ⋆⁺₊⋆⋆⁺₊⋆ ☀︎ ⋆⁺₊⋆⋆⁺₊⋆ ☀︎ ⋆⁺₊⋆⋆⁺₊⋆ ☀︎ ⋆⁺₊⋆⋆⁺₊⋆ ☀︎ ⋆⁺₊⋆⋆⁺₊⋆ ☀︎ ⋆⁺₊⋆⋆⁺₊⋆ 
 “Have you noticed anything wrong with Y/n? She just seems off, im worried” Bucky expressed to Sam and Natasha in the kitchen while making a cup of coffee.
“ Idk man she's your girl shouldn't you know?” “She's not my girl Sam.” He rolls his eyes knowing Sam knows about his crush on you.
“Maybe go up to her, just go check on her.” Nat says as she pats the super soldiers’ back, leaving the kitchen.
He decides then that the only way he'll know is to ask so Bucky gets up to head to your room. 
⋆⁺₊⋆ ☀︎ ⋆⁺₊⋆⋆⁺₊⋆ ☀︎ ⋆⁺₊⋆⋆⁺₊⋆ ☀︎ ⋆⁺₊⋆⋆⁺₊⋆ ☀︎ ⋆⁺₊⋆⋆⁺₊⋆ ☀︎ ⋆⁺₊⋆⋆⁺₊⋆ ☀︎ ⋆⁺₊⋆⋆⁺₊⋆ ☀︎ ⋆⁺₊⋆⋆⁺₊⋆ You're laying in bed staring up at the ceiling when you hear 3 knocks from the door. Not feeling up to talk to anyone, you don't say anything hoping whoever’s there will just leave. “ Doll it's me Bucky, I want to talk, can you open the door for me?”
Oh Bucky… Your crush for the longest time, also one of your closest friends. Ever since you first joined the avengers you knew you were done for. His immediate smile threw you off your feet and it was then you knew.
You and Bucky started to become closer to each other over the months, spending most of your time together either watching movies or walking around New York. Bucky was one of the people who you cared about the most and that's why you felt so insecure. You wanted to be your best for him all the time, be perfect in hope that he’ll maybe fall for you just like how hard you fell for him.
What you didn’t know was that he already fell just as hard.
The first time Bucky spotted you he couldn't believe his eyes. He didn't understand how someone could be that beautiful, your eyes shined and your smile glowed, you look like the Sun. He cared so much for you and hasn't felt this much love for anyone ever and just wanted to make sure you’re okay, that's why he's here.
You decide to get up and open the door for him, checking the mirror beforehand making sure you look okay. “ Hey Buck, everything okay?”
You choke out looking up at him while trying toseem happy. “ Yeah everythings fine, just wanted to check on you, haven't seen you in a while… Can I come in?” Bucky says rubbing his hand on the back of his neck hoping that you'll let him in and open up to him. “ Uh sure-” You both opt to sit on your bed and it's then that Bucky takes your hand and decides to speak up.
“I'm here because I'm worried about you doll.. What's going on? You know you can talk to me right.” He says looking down to you with genuine worry in his eyes. He could get so scared sometimes worrying if he upset you in some way. “ No, I'm fine-” “Dont.” Bucky interrupts. He tilts your chin up to meet his eyes.
“ Don't act like it's fine when it's not. Some Things upset you, I want to know what it is. Let me help you like you helped me” This was it. As he said that you felt yourself breaking and water managed to make it out of your eyes finally breaking down.
“Hey hey hey, i got you, you're okay breath baby, breath.” Bucky says holding you closer to him and accidentally letting a pet name slip out. After Bucky gets you to breathe and calm down he sits you on his lap and starts to speak.
“ You're okay Y/n, I'm here with you okay. Just talk to me whenever you're ready.”
It's then you finally speak up and voice all your insecurities about how you dislike how you look and feel as if youre useless and don't matter to the team. Bucky’s heart starts to break hearing these words come out of you feeling as if you're not good enough. He can't stand to see you like this anymore and put his forehead on yours making sure you're looking at him.
“ Look at me, doll, I have never thought about you in any of those ways. You are the most gorgeous thing I've ever seen and the best thing that's ever happened to me.”
“I want you to know how incredible you are and that I understand how you're feeling but that none of it is true. I am so in love with you it's crazy.” Bucky spills out not caring about if you feel the same anymore, he just needs to get it out.
“ You light up a whole room with that smile of your doll. You're the funniest person I've met and bring me so much comfort… I've never cared about anyone like i've cared about you.``
“Bucky i-” Is this true? Does he really feel the same way? “ Bucky, are you serious?” you exclaim.
Realizing that you might not share the same feelings, buckys eyes go wide with worry looking like a kicked puppy, before saying “ I um- I know that you might not feel the same ways as me but i couldn't keep it in any longer. And I'm sorry if I ruined anything I didn't mean-”
You silenced him as you crashed your lips into his humming into the kiss. You guys finally pull away after a while and decide to cuddle up under the bed together, your eyes closing.
There's still much more you guys need to talk about in the morning but none of that comes to mind now that Bucky’s finally holding you in his arms.
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A/n : Hiii!!! Hope you liked the story. Im going to try to write more just and super busy.....
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