#feel free to ask about them if you want the lore <- begging on hands and knees

[minkieater]

carousel – choi san ☄. *. ⋆

p. choi san x fem!reader g. non idol au, college boy!san w. smut minors dni PLS, alcohol consumption, smut is kinda kinky, toxic relationship, uhh san rocks you suck an. hello please don't be mad at me this had to happen for the lore, i also had to name you, apologies, if you share a name with shawty then congrats! if you've read luck you'll see some familiar stuff here, feel free to let me know anything you pick up on heheheh but seriously pls don't be mad at me wc. 10.7k

♫ – tear you apart, she wants revenge “it's only just a crush, it'll go away, it's just like all the others it'll go away or maybe this is danger and he just don't know”

cycle (sī-kel) noun a course or series of events or operations that recur regularly and usually lead back to the starting point

choi san regularly bounced between two moods. 

the first being a state of contentment, the second being complete and utter destruction. when he was content, the two of you were usually on good terms, and he felt good enough that he could keep his life on track. he could get his work done, he could go to classes, he could socialize with his peers with a smile on his face. 

when that peace was disturbed, more often than not by you, he was an absolute train wreck. all he could think about was you you you and when the two of you would fix things, if the two of you were really done this time, if he could reconcile the situation. sitting in class, remembering choreography at practice, being behind the bar at work… he couldn’t do a damn thing right. it wouldn’t be surprising if he forgot his own name when you were on bad terms. 

san has never been a fighter. when arguments arise he’s usually never the one that starts them, he’s the one begging to end them, opting for a peaceful compromise instead. despite the way he looks, san is a softie, something that took you by surprise and kept you by his side for almost a year.

you know him. you know his favorite color, his favorite show, his favorite album, his parents’ names, where he grew up, why he’s in school, who’s putting him through school, his biggest fear, his dream in life. you see how he looks at you, how he drops everything for you in a second, how he talks about you when you aren’t around to defend yourself. you know him better than you know yourself sometimes — you’ve been two peas in a pod since the beginning of your sophomore year, but yet the same question remains. one he’s asked you hundreds of times, one you could never find an answer to without breaking his heart. 

so instead you pick fights, argue to your heart’s content, damn near terrorize him on the regular just for the same fact to be true: choi san also knows everything about you. 

he knows exactly why you aren’t together, why you beat around the bush every time he asks you that same question, the sole reason why you freak the fuck out every time he asks you to give him just a little bit more. choi san knows very well that his love is unrequited, and he understands even the things you won’t tell him. he knows who you really love, he knows you’ve loved him since the summer before your freshman year, when you met at that concert. he notices when your eyes are the brightest, who you’re looking at when he wished you were looking at him, when you laugh the loudest. he notices everything.

if he’s anything, it’s observant. he’s been hanging out with you and your friends since way before he was your little secret, he’s been on your friends’ rooftop for parties more times than he can count. the first time the two of you slept together he couldn’t believe it was actually happening, the second you looked at him with lowered eyes and glossy lips he thought his eyes had been deceiving him for months prior. you looked at him like he was your last meal, your prey that you caught with your bare hands, you needed to have him or you’d die of starvation. he let you take the reins, took it all in with open arms, he wasn’t going to question a thing. for how long you had been obsessed with chan, he’d been obsessed with you. 

you’d met early in your freshman year, when chan had first gotten his apartment shared with three others, when they first started throwing their legendary parties that had been the talk of campus for ages to follow. san had gotten the invite through wooyoung, his best friend, whose close friend has dated chan’s roommate since freshman year. the moment he first saw you was nothing short of a movie scene, you were on the dance floor, definitely one too many drinks deep. you were dancing with felix, holding his hand, twirling your hair as he spun you in a circle. your smile, your eyes that were shut so delicately, your body that moved with such a fluidity, you were the embodiment of freedom. you looked like you couldn’t care less about anything, like the moon went down and the sun came up just so you could breathe another day. the world revolved around you. it was like everything he had ever done in his life leading up to this moment, each decision he made was to get him on this rooftop at this moment in the middle of soho. 

san had a few drinks himself and found himself on the dance floor right beside you. minho was with him, a close friend from his dance class, and then felix beside you. he couldn’t help but steal you for himself. he brought out the dancer inside of him but still followed your lead, spun you himself just as felix had, let your backside dance across his front one too many times for comfort. you picked up on how he was holding back, letting himself match you instead of taking the lead, and you couldn’t ignore how it sparked your interest. anyone besides felix that wasn’t in your group of close friends would be mindlessly grinding against you with an eyebrow raised and a smirk, but not him. 

for a moment you let yourself think the bar is deep in hell, then you introduced yourself (more like screamed your name at him) over the pounding music that could be heard two blocks down. the first thing you noticed were his broad shoulders before you took in the rest of his clearly strong build. complex, fox-like eyes that held too much power in them and a sweet smile that contrasted his hard demeanor, it all vexed you, but intrigued you so much more. 

out of everything, his hands give you the most whiplash. where they were long and limber they felt soft and warm, even the calluses on his palms somehow felt softer than every man you’ve ever come in contact with. compared to his chest which felt hard and strong, the contradicting features forced your mind straight in the gutter. there’s no doubt he’s beautiful, anyone could see that from first glance, but in that deep, hypnotizing voice he has, you could hear what kept itself hidden. it was a facade, that build and sexy voice, you could tell just from a few words that he’s not what he appears to be. 

at first glance you’d assume he was just like any typical guy, buff and egotistical and harsh. but looking for a moment in those eyes, listening to that soft voice, you could hear what he wasn’t saying, like his thoughts were being displayed for you on a silver platter. they enticed you to dig deeper, peel him open layer by layer, find out what no one else knows. beyond warm hands and a sturdy build, there was a softness to him that wasn’t inside of any other man on that rooftop. except one other. 

by the end of the night, minho had led san to the notorious smoking corner, where he’d come to learn the same people tend to gather and hangout towards the end of the night. thankfully, one of those people was you, and the rest of your little group of friends that he’d later come more than acquainted with. none of you really smoke, which was the weird part, the smokers would come and go around your seating area, but it was still named the smoking corner despite it. 

“you said your name was san, right?” you asked, an inviting smile on your face as he sat down right next to you on one of the cushioned chairs. it happened to be the only one open and had him thanking a god he didn’t believe in for the small favor. 

he nodded quickly, tight lipped smile on his face, dimples on display. even with the liquor he was nervous, he wasn’t one to spark up conversation, especially at a party like this. “you’re a dancer?”

“how’d you know?” your smile somehow got bigger, eyes widening with surprise, “i’ve danced my whole life.”

he shrugs, “one dancer to another.”

“you go to NYU?” you asked, turning your body to face him in your own chair.

“dance program, i’m in the same hip hop class as minho,” he pointed to minho who was standing somewhere to the side of the two of you. 

“ah,” you nod with a smile, “that makes sense, i’m in the theater program, i originally wanted to be in the dance program, though.”

“hey guys,” the two of you looked up at the same time, another pair of broad shoulders, massive biceps, and a beautiful smile staring straight at you. you could feel your heart rate pick up, your breath get caught in your throat, a heat cascading over you like the rooftop had suddenly raised fifteen degrees. 

san could feel his smile leave his face as he watched the scene unfold in front of him. the way your eyes lit up, the pink that raised to your cheeks, how you slightly stumbled over your words when you first spoke to him, he tried not to let his expression drop to a scowl. he knows you like him, maybe even love him, he couldn’t decide from the short interaction between the three of you. not that he wanted to know, anyways. 

san decided then and there that chan was his enemy, a one sided war he was willing to put up the good fight for. from a quick dance and a conversation, he had decided you were worth the fight, you were worth the long game, you were worth whatever it took to get you. he thinks it shouldn’t be too hard to win you over, with some effort and consistency, he should be the one you look at the way he desperately wants you to in no time. he knew he was good looking, he sees how women fawn over him left and right at parties, only sometimes letting them get any further then silly attempts to take him home. that ping of jealousy only jumpstarts his motivation, begs him to tap into whatever is making these women throw themselves at him.  

five parties and three months later, you made him feel like he was in the lead. small conversations here and there, longer dances that with each party turned more and more scandalous, once or twice you clearly felt him behind you on the dance floor and you didn’t pull away, you kept going until you made it so evident he couldn’t hide it in his jeans. moments of hands brushing and stolen glances across the smoking corner, he waited long enough, but he’d wait however long it took for you.

the night when you gave him that look that he knew meant you were taking him home, he couldn’t contain his excitement, he couldn’t hide anything from you already. you could see it all over his face, he could tell from the smirk you wore on your own lips and the cocky laugh you let out. you were playing with fire, and his specialty was water.

you knew he wanted you from the first time you met. whether he knew it about himself or not, despite his easygoing words and soft hands, you knew there was a side to him you desperately needed to unveil, you needed to experience, you needed to know like the back of your hand. it felt like tainting his innocence the more you got to know him, his personality reflected the opposite of what he portrayed on the outside. from that hard, chiseled look he has to the soft, tender persona, you wanted to tear him apart. you wanted to know what made him tick, what pissed him off, what got under his skin, how he acted when it did. 

you had him exactly where you wanted him, and he was letting it happen, fully aware of the attraction that was finally being returned. you looked at him differently that night, and unbeknownst to him, it was deliberate.

chan was out of sight, off with some dark haired girl he met hours prior. you watched the scene unfold in front of you, from when they exchanged names and phone numbers down to the moment when chan took her hand and led her inside his apartment. you watched them over heads through the dance floor, keeping your vision focused on the two of them like some fucked up form of tunnel vision. like what they say about trainwrecks, you should look away, but for some reason you can’t. your skin was burning, you were beyond angry, feeling an emotion that laid somewhere outside of what you’d ever experienced toward him. betrayal? abandonment? treachery?

none of your feelings were valid, chan had no idea how you felt, you never told him. he was more than allowed to take whatever dark haired bitch he wanted into his own damn apartment that seungmin’s dad pays for, that’s more than permissible. you have an apartment too, one that you and your roommate pay for yourselves, one that you could also take someone back to. your life didn’t revolve around him, his actions would not determine how your night would go, despite the feelings you have for him.

that’s when choi san caught your eye, across the crowd with his gorgeous face and incredible body. you felt the light bulb flash above your head, you knew exactly what would take the edge off, what would mend the heart chan had just broken in two. 

“you know, we always hangout here, but we never see each other outside of these parties,” you flipped your hair over your shoulder, looking up at him through your eyelashes. 

“never thought you wanted to,” he shrugs, lowered eyes watching your every move like he was waiting for the switch to flip.

“and why wouldn’t i want to? have you looked in a mirror recently?” it felt lame when it left your mouth, he didn’t seem to agree as a faint blush crept onto his cheeks. he turned away from you, a low chuckle leaving his lips.

“every morning at the gym, gotta make sure my form is right,” his shy smile turned into a faint smirk, and your own grows, hints of mischief creeping at the corners. you knew exactly what he was doing, mentioning the gym. like a moth to a flame, your eyes glazed over his biceps, which he flexed the moment your eyes left his. 

“every morning? very disciplined, aren’t you?” you ask, smile turning lopsided and nothing short of flirty. 

“very,” he nodded his head, “you should come with me sometime, get you some discipline, too.”

“and what about me makes you think i’m not disciplined?” your eyebrows furrow, tilting your head.

with that question his smile grows, dimples showing themselves once more. “brats always need discipline, and that’s exactly what you are. a little tease.”

your smile displays all of your teeth, exactly the answer you were hoping for. the side you knew he had in him, that version of him not many get to see, excitement flooded through you like a tidal wave. you were on a power trip, your plan worked with ease, you wanted to pat yourself on the back. 

“do something about it,” you sipped your drink through your tiny straw, staring at him through your lashes once again. 

within thirty minutes you were back at your place in manhattan, your roommate still at the party, you didn’t even let her know you left. in that one conversation you’d forgotten all about chan, the girl with the dark hair, and why you were in this situation in the first place. all you could think about was san, with his dark chocolate eyes and honeyed skin and arms strong enough to flip you around. you were overflowing with adrenaline, excitement, and greed. you wanted all of him, needed all of him, a need that has been lying dormant for months. you’d been curious about him, wanted to know what he kept hidden inside, too focused on chan to dig deeper into him.

san couldn’t fucking believe it. couldn’t believe he was in your bed, your walls that were covered in posters of rock bands and singers from the 80s, some faces he’s seen before and plenty of others he hasn’t. records cover one wall, soundtracks from different musicals, little trinkets filling every inch of open space on your bookshelves. your room was so undeniably you, from the smell to the color scheme, he took every inch of it and burned it to memory. he tried not to stare too much in his learning, telling himself to focus on you instead, he’d he back, this isn’t a one time thing. he couldn’t be more right. 

the moment his lips touched yours he couldn’t believe he’d gone so long without tasting you. a kiss so sweet, so rushed, so hungry, he’d never felt anything like it. he knew you'd wreck him, become too important to him, become a valued person in his life, for a moment he thought maybe he should stop – this was all too good to be true. 

when you whimpered in his mouth after a light grind to his crotch, he took all of his thoughts back. there was no stopping this, no hands could pry him off of you, he needed to see every bit of you. he needed to kiss every inch of your skin, inhale the scent of your sweat, he yearned to worship you. he wanted all of you, he needed to rein himself in, not get too excited so he could last. 

you fought for dominance on his lap, tongues in a rushed wrestle, strong thighs wrapped around his hips. as those soft hands of his squeezed the fat of your ass, you let out a yelp, grinding yourself into him. you wanted to hear any kind of noise, any harsh breath he might release. you wanted control, he didn’t want to give it up, at least not without a fight.

he scooped your waist with one arm, flipping you over, pressing you flat against the mattress. you mustered out a hushed fuck as the realization finally hit you: his biceps aren’t just for aesthetics, the sheer strength of one is enough to throw you around, and it’s strength he will use to his advantage. 

“as much as i want to be thrown around,” you broke the kiss for a moment, “save it for the next time.”

you wrapped your legs around his waist and lunged yourself forward with your hands, hips on top of his once more, your bodies sitting upright. as much as you wanted to revel in the gain of dominance, you knew he just willingly allowed you to do that, he could’ve stopped you with ease if he wanted to.

“see what i mean? brat,” he broke the kiss again with a huff, a smirk painting his own lips for a moment before returning them to yours. 

your right hand moved up to grip his throat, pushing him an inch away from you. on his lap you were taller, staring down at him, he looked up at you with a spark in his eyes you haven't seen yet. his eyebrows furrowed, not in confusion or hurt, but want. need. he liked this, he wanted this, and you couldn’t help the wicked smile that touched every feature on your face. 

“watch your mouth,” you tilted your chin up, looking down at him at a harsher angle, the act itself a display of dominance. in combination with the harsh tone to your words, he nearly quivered in your grasp. a strangled groan left his lips as your grip tightened for a moment, blocking his airway, before releasing him completely. you reached for the hem of his shirt, ripping it over his head with ease. 

“look at you, so fucking sexy,” you said as the cotton hit the floor, examining his exposed upper half in awe. chiseled abs, even sitting down, and a chest you’re sure could knock you out if it came in contact with your head. he was beautiful, perfect even, not an inch of him unsculpted. 

his breath turned heavy under your stare, eyes lowering into a different version of himself, a submission of sorts. he had no fight left in them, he gave up control, let you take it, and you were going to run with it. 

you brought your lips to his jaw, kissing down his neck, hands running over every inch of bare skin. he tugged at your top at the same time, tugging it over your head, unclasping your bra with just one hand. 

“done that before?” you asked with raised eyebrows and a playful smile, and he chuckled. 

“once or twice,” his reply was mindless as you fumbled with his belt buckle beneath you, slipping it out of the loops, throwing it to the floor. 

“hungry?” you asked and his eyes quickly met yours, confusion crossing them before realization set in. you didn’t wait for an answer as you pushed him back on the bed with your index finger to his chest, not having to muster up any force at all. 

you quickly sat up and slipped off your jeans and underwear, leaving yourself bare in front of him. he leaned up on his elbows for just a moment before you crawled back on top of him, further up his body until you sat right over his face. 

“no touching unless i tell you to,” your voice was stern, he nodded in understanding and you took that as the green light to plant yourself on his awaiting face. 

you moaned the moment his tongue came in contact with your soaked center, lapping up everything you had to offer. you stilled for a moment, letting him work himself on you, his tongue gliding through your wetness. 

“fuck, sannie, so fucking good,” you moaned out, a hand reaching down to tug at his styled black hair. he groaned in response, hands lifting off of the bed, but they didn’t touch you, didn’t even come close. 

you started riding his face and he stuck his tongue out in response to your movements, letting you have your way with him, grinding back and forth to use him for your own release. if you weren’t gone in your own pleasure you would’ve smiled at the eagerness, the willingness to please you. 

“fingers, please baby,” you gasped out, babbling your words, “need you to make me cum. you wanna make me cum, don’t you? all over your face?” 

his right hand came between your legs to slip two fingers inside of you, mouth moving up to your clit, wrapping his lips around the bundle of nerves. he curved his fingers toward himself immediately, hitting that one spot inside of you that made you see stars, you started babbling and whining praise like you’d been doing this together for years. 

“so fucking good sannie, fuck,” you cried out, grinding yourself against him, the knot in your stomach tightening with every harsh suck to your clit. he brought his other hand up to smack your ass and you moaned out, the dam bursting, your release coating his fingers, past his knuckles. you rode out your high, his fingers and mouth working in tandem to get you through it before overstimulation set in. 

“mm, taste so fucking good baby, could eat you all night,” he announced the second you lifted yourself off of him, his voice octaves lower than earlier. you watched as he licked his lips so erotically, the action making you want to sit yourself back on his face and ride him until he couldn’t breathe. 

you sat next to him on the bed after climbing off of him instead, your orgasm took the need for control right out of you, you had your fill. you wanted to be taken care of, filled up, you didn’t want to think about anything other than your own pleasure. always observant san picked up in your change of energy, letting his own switch to another before continuing. 

“need to be inside you,” he said as he sat up, taking his jeans and boxers off in one go, “you have a condom?” 

you shimmied yourself down the bed, head hitting the pillow before you shook it, “‘m on the pill.” 

“dirty girl, where did that energy from earlier go? hm?” that dangerous smirk returned to his face, his dominance returning in just one sentence, “did i eat it all out of you? wanna be a good girl for me now?” 

he leaned himself over you, strong arms beside your head caging you in. you lifted your knees up to your elbows, spreading yourself for him.

“shut up,” you mumbled, feeling the tinge of embarrassment, “fuck me already.” 

“that wasn’t very polite, thought you were ready to behave,” he shook his head, “only girls with manners get fucked. should i put my pants back on, go back home?” 

“no! no, don’t go,” your arms came up to grab onto his, your eyes widening, “i’m sorry, i’ll be good. please, san, i need you.” 

a wicked smile crossed his face before he leaned down to plant a kiss on your own, “good, i hoped so. breathe for me, okay?”

you glanced down between your legs, realizing you hadn’t even seen him. you nearly gasped at the size of him, eyes widening, his length was perfect but the girth of him was more than intimidating. he spit into his hand, stroking himself, lubing himself up to slide into you easier. you nearly drooled at the sight, mouth agape, pussy clenching around nothing.

the whole act felt so sinful, so carnal, you so easily opened up to him with a side of yourself you don’t show until you’re fully comfortable. you blame your adrenaline, your hormones, how horny you were when you arrived, ignoring the real fact of how comfortable he made you feel to show so much of yourself to him. 

as he lined himself up you couldn’t ignore how it all felt right, you’ve had undeniable attraction to him for months now, but this… this was something entirely different. this was a beginning, the prologue chapter of a novel, the first episode to seasons spent with him. when he pushed himself into you and you had to physically remind yourself to breathe, you had to acknowledge that he fit so perfectly with you, his body felt like it was meant to be above yours. these weren’t feelings of a quick fuck, feelings from a one night stand, this was raw, intimate, unique. special. 

“so fucking big,” you huffed out, voice strained, eyes squeezed shut, fingers clawing at his biceps. 

“breathe, baby, you got it,” he praised you, encouraged you, and it did what it needed to. you breathed in and out, let him sheathe himself inside of you. as he bottomed out he groaned, a beautiful noise, one that could lure you to sleep if you heard it enough. he stayed there for a moment, letting you get used to the stretch, letting you relax around him. 

“so fuckin’ tight, baby, breathe,” he instructed, leaning down on his elbows to kiss you, distract you, take your mind off of the stretch. you tried your best to relax your muscles, unclench yourself from around him. 

“there you go,” his praises were a sweet song, easing you out of discomfort, “tell me when i can move.” 

you waited a few moments, returning your lips to his before grinding yourself against him. you felt your slick coating him, helping you glide up and down, and he let you for a moment — just a moment before he knew for sure you were comfortable. 

he pulled all the way out before bottoming out once more, and you yelped into his mouth, breaking the kiss to let your head lean back into the pillow.

“there it is, there we fucking go,” he mumbled as he started on a rhythm, “good fucking girl.” 

a string of moans left your lips, your hands still clawing at his biceps, body reacting to him without your brain allowing it. “so fucking good sannie.”

“thought you were so fucking badass earlier, huh? ordering me around like i’m your bitch?” that smirk returned to his lips again and all you could do was moan, staring at him through half lidded eyes, “look at you now, baby. all lifeless and limp, all for this dick?” 

“yes, san, all for you. just for you,” you mumble, words jumbling together, not knowing if your words even sounded clear. 

“yeah, baby, just as i thought, all for me,” he pistols himself into you, grabbing your hips, making you meet his thrusts. you were losing your strength, letting him have his way with you, just an incoherent mess beneath him. 

he reaches forward and grabs your jaw, “don’t go anywhere, eyes on me.”

you look up to him, eyes wide, that fuzzy space you were slipping into locked away for now, “you can go there eventually, not yet, not this time.” 

your eyes started to roll back as he shifted his hips upward, the mushroom tip of him rolling against that one spot so deliciously. with how quickly that knot formed once more in your stomach, you were surprised that drool wasn’t slipping down your chin. 

“right there, please don’t stop, gonna make me cum,” you can’t even hear yourself, so drunk on his dick, his assertiveness, you loved it. you’d never had your energy matched like this, never had a fuck like this, never had someone know you so quickly and easily. 

“hold it,” he ordered, and your eyes nearly bulged out of your head. how could he expect you to hold it, when he was hitting that spot too perfectly, doing everything in his power to get you there?

“i swear, do not fucking cum,” he smacked your hip and tears formed in your eyes trying to hold it, fighting every nerve in your body to not release around him. 

“i can’t! i can’t,” you babble, tears falling down your cheeks, and he released a long fuck, his voice dropping even lower. 

“cum for me, want you to cum around me, please,” his orders turned to begs quickly after he saw your tears. he leaned forward to wipe them off your face, bringing his fingers up to his lips. the string snapped and you gushed around him, legs shaking, a loud cry leaving your lips, probably heard in queens from the sheer volume of it. 

“where do you want me?” he quickly asked, his own words sounding shaky, slurring together. 

“inside, inside,” you begged, reaching up to cup his cheeks. he leaned down to kiss you as he released himself inside you, filling you up, thrusts slowing as he worked himself through it. 

he stayed there for a moment, forehead pressed against yours, heavy breaths being poured into each other’s mouths. he sighed as his forearms began to shake, finally pulling out of you, laying next to you.

“you okay?” he turned his head at the same time as you turned yours, eyes sharing too much of something yet saying nothing of it.

“‘m great, you?” you cracked a smile, the both of you still somewhere that wasn’t here, slowly coming back from two completely different headspaces. he nodded, returning the smile, and the two of you laid there for what felt like ages. 

sleeping with san was something outside of anything you’ve ever done. you’d slept with plenty of people, had plenty of experiences, explored what you liked and didn’t through many trials and errors. to have such an incredible first experience with someone, to have it flow so easily, to match each other so perfectly… it was almost unbelievable, it set unrealistic expectations for anyone you’d ever sleep with again. 

you needed him that night, needed that experience, needed whatever was going to distract you from whatever the hell chan was doing – and it worked. you needed that distraction for months to follow as chan continued to see the dark haired girl, who’s name you came to find out was eden, always hanging around on the rooftop, following him wherever he went. like a roach, never wanted, yet never went away. 

months you spent cooped up in your room, anger flowing through your blood as you watched his instagram stories, cute pictures of her posted every day. posed pictures together in times square, clubs on the weekends, clips of them getting drinks together on a random weekday afternoon. you couldn’t help but pick everything apart – what they were doing was touristy, corny, nothing you would do with him, nothing you would enjoy. you knew chan didn’t enjoy any of that, either. 

every time you pictured dates with him or fantasized about any time spent with him alone was always private, intimate, enriching – you’d be painting together, drinking wine in your living room as you played your favorite board game, watching a tv show from start to finish together. you were in the same major, maybe even studying together, bouncing ideas off of one another for assignments or projects, but nothing so flashy. chan hates time square, hates drinking in the middle of the day, and especially hates clubs unless there was a special occasion. you knew all of these things, you knew him, you felt the same way as him. yet he was still doing all of those things with her, playing in her garden, wasting his time when he should be focused on school, his career, his future, you.

in those months there was only one thing that could make you forget about chan, forget about eden, forget about the situation altogether. during class you were frustrated, in auditions, rehearsals, you couldn’t even study without the tv on and music playing simultaneously. if you had a singular moment of silence your brain took you back to him, took you back to what you could’ve had, what you never tried for in the first place. it was debilitating not being able to get anything done, being so one track minded, the only thing that could make you focus was san. you’d text him daily, always asking him to come over, always ending the night between his thighs. 

he always came, he always said yes, he never once said no to you. he didn’t ask any questions, didn’t make you explain your frustrations, only listened when you did speak about trivial things like school or rehearsal. you didn’t want his opinion, didn’t want his advice, only his company and the pleasure he never had any difficulty in giving you. it was perfect for those months, in your own world, the sanctuary you created in your bedroom with choi san. 

the moment when your relationship changed, you didn’t notice. there was no light bulb, no moment where you consciously started looking at him differently, yet it changed without your knowing or consent. you didn’t acknowledge it when you did notice, you didn’t want to, your heart was saved for another. yet you still talked about everything together, did all of those little things you dreamed of doing with chan. your fears, your dreams, your childhood, your favorite things, you began to know him so intimately without being aware of it. you watched grey’s anatomy with him, you played video games, you drew funky little doodles of each other on your notebooks. 

you started to crave him when he wasn’t around, and not just because he was your distraction, but a friend. he was good for you, he encouraged you to be consistent with school, you practiced lines with him, sang duets from different musicals with him. your relationship was raw, it was truth, it was naked, it was everything you wished for, it was everything you needed at that time. 

san fell for you. he fell so fucking hard, so headfirst, it was a bottomless pit with no end in sight and he couldn’t stop himself from digging further. everything he saw in you that first night was still there, only amplified into something he couldn’t hide anymore. he was at your beck and call, anything you needed, any time of day. he knew why you were so attached to him, he figured it out the second he went to the rooftop with wooyoung again, high off of his night spent with you, ready to see you again. when you were nowhere to be seen and he caught chan with his arm around the girl from his contemporary class, he put the pieces together quick. he knew you must be heartbroken, knew you needed support, a friend who knew nothing about the situation. it quickly made him realize his place in your relationship. 

he fought through the horrific realization with optimism, the returning thought that with time you’d see, you’d realize he was better for you than chan could ever be. as he spent more time with you and got to know you better, it only made his feelings deepen. your laugh, your thoughts, your competitive side, the way you’re so quick to fight back and assert your dominance, but give it up even faster… it was like an addiction, it wasn’t good for him, he knew it wasn’t, he knew it when his grades first started to slip. when he wasn’t on point at practice, too sleep deprived to remember choreography. minho read it all over him, knew something was wrong, knew san had gotten into something he shouldn’t have. 

“what’s up with you, man? this isn’t like you,” it was a rough practice that day. san was sat on the floor with his knees hugged tight to his chest, rubbing his eyes to force the exhaustion out of them. 

“just an off day,” is all san mumbled before he stood up slowly, grabbing his bag to sling over his shoulder.

“off day? you’ve been fucking up for the past week, san, you’re center,” minho put his hand on san’s shoulder, stopping him before he walked away, “they’re gonna put someone else there if you don’t get your shit together.”

“i get it, minho,” san turned his back, and minho’s grip only got tighter.

“what the hell is going on?” he asked, turning san to face him, “you can talk to me, we’re friends, you know.”

san’s hand returned to his face, trying to rub off his discomfort, this feeling that he should keep everything to himself, “it’s a lot.”

“is it a girl?” minho was quick with the question, eyes lowered, seeming to read san before he could get any words out. he started to walk, keeping his hand on san’s shoulder, encouraging him to walk alongside him. 

san answered with a coy nod, the answer seeming too taboo to say out loud. minho was a direct link to chan, he should be happy to talk about the fact that you were sleeping together. what he couldn’t shake off was the fear that you’d be angry at him for telling anyone. 

“did you get her pregnant or something?” humor was laced in minho’s tone, trying to ease up the straightforwardness of the question, but he was genuinely worried by how san had been acting.

san gasped, “preg- no! god, no,” he shook his head, “i hope not.”

minho laughed, “that doesn’t sound convincing. if she’s not pregnant then there’s no reason to be so torn up, why are you?”

they walked out of the building into the wet humidity of the city air, “like i said, it’s a lot. it’s my fault, though.”

“quit beating around the bush and tell me,” minho stood still, staring at san expectantly, “you can trust me.”

“if i’m going to tell you, i need a beer.”

an hour later they were seated at prince, not a popular dive bar in the city, but popular amongst your group of friends and whoever they introduced to it. san nursed his beer, barely getting two sips in before he was spilling everything about the last six months to one of his best friends. 

“i can’t wrap my head around why you keep fucking her if she loves another guy,” minho shrugs, “especially chan, at that. she’s been close with him since he moved to the city.”

“it’s not about fucking her,” san sighed, “i’m in too deep, i think i love her. even if i didn’t, and it was just about sex, it’s too good to stop.”

minho’s jaw physically drops, mouth hanging agape for a moment before he snaps it shut, straightening his left hand to start counting on his fingers, “so you love her, she doesn't know you love her, she loves someone else who’s in a relationship, and you spend every free moment with her. and you have so much sex you don’t sleep.”

san’s lips pull into a tight line, giving minho one long nod in response.

“there’s no way she doesn’t love you back if you’ve spent that much time together in six months, i can’t believe you kept all of this shit hidden for so long. you need to talk shit out, man.”

it was music to his ears, san’s entire body filled with a joy he’d never felt before when no way she doesn’t love you back left minho’s lips. he felt like he was putting a puzzle together in his brain, that actually made perfect sense, how could you not return anything he felt for you? you also experienced all your time together, got just as close to him as he did you. 

he barely gave minho another half hour before he was barreling out of prince and on his way to your apartment. 

“hey baby, how was practi-”

“i need to ask you a question.”

your head whipped to your front door, never hearing san sound so desperate outside of the bedroom. his eyes were blown, his eyebrows raised, fully out of breath from running up the flights of steps to your apartment. your blood ran cold, you knew this question was coming eventually, you were savoring every moment he didn't ask it. you stood slowly, facing him from the couch, eyes expectant.

“i’ll give you an answer,” you replied casually, keeping your voice steady. 

“do you want to be with me?” his words felt empty, as if he wasn’t sure if he wanted to say them, yet he still sounded like he’d been dying to ask the question for months. he didn’t blink, kept his shoulders back, dance bag dangling from his fingertips.

“san,” you said calmly, taking a step towards him. 

“i don’t want to freak you out, please don’t freak out, it’s just been six months and i really enjoy you and your company and i love being around you, i love spending nights with you, the sex is incredible, everything just seems right,” a smile graces his lips with a pause. when you stared back at him in disbelief he panicked, his heart in his throat, “i’m sorry if i freaked you out, this is too much, isn’t it?” 

you took a breath, closing your eyes for a moment. the day you’d been dreading had come – the end of a perfect half year. 

“i can’t be in a relationship right now,” you blurt the first thing that came to mind, and his face dropped immediately. “i enjoy you, i love our time spent together, i love that you’re around all the time, you’ve been a huge help to me these past six months. i couldn’t of done it without you.”

you’ve been told these words before, you’ve been in his position before, you’re spouting the same venom that’s been thrown at you. you felt  as if you were shoved in a corner, not fully believing your own words, but you needed an excuse more than you wanted to say the truth. 

a sad smile crosses his face, “i get it.”

“i don’t want to stop whatever this is,” you walk closer to him, grabbing his hand, “and it could grow into something really great. i’m just not in a position to open my heart to anyone right now.” 

“i know, baby. the last six months have been rough on you,” his heart melted, even if he knew the reason why, he also knew that it really did hurt you. you needed time to heal, time to focus on yourself, time to get back into the dating scene. he’d be there, first in line when you were ready. 

“i knew you’d understand, thank you,” you stood on your toes, attaching your lips to his. ten minutes later you were on your knees, right back to normal like that conversation didn’t even happen. 

in just two weeks you’d started going out more regularly again, meeting your friends at prince, going to chan’s rooftop whenever felix told you to come. your friends that noticed, despite you keeping your appearances up, asked where you’d been, why you’re back, and you gave them the sophomore year bullshit of classes were hard and summer is here again! at your age, parties were a dime a dozen, you had plenty of excuses to be out of the house and away from your issues, stopping reality from hitting you that you were playing with fire once again.

you did have feelings for san, even if it was your own fucked up version. there was no way you couldn’t with how much time you spent together, how much you know about him, how much you care for him. but the other problem that you will never forget is still there, staring at you from across his own rooftop. 

you care for san, but the love you feel for bang christopher chan is so much fucking more.

“hey! i feel like i haven’t seen you in ages!” his smile is huge as he crosses the crowd, clinking his drink with your own. you blushed, that was basically him saying i missed you. 

“same here, how’s everything been? happy classes are over?” you asked, gripping your drink a little tighter. 

“incredibly happy classes are over, even happier this terrible fucking year is over,” he chuckled, “me and eden broke up, i don’t know if you heard. she cheated on me with some columbia architect, whatever.”

broke up? he’s… single again?

your jaw dropped, and you fought to keep the excitement to a minimum, “no, i didn’t know, i’m so sorry, channie. fuck her and that architect!”

he laughed again, a belly laugh that made you want to jump his bones, “what about you, though? seeing anyone?”

his question took you by surprise, “i- uh, no, i’m not,” your giggle was nervous, wanting to change the subject immediately. san crossed your mind, a thought you quickly shut down.

“you’re never seeing anyone, dude, we have to set you up with somebody, can’t go through your whole college experience without a shitty boyfriend or two,” it was a joke, a bad one, but it still made heat rise to your whole upper half. why was he asking? he’s never asked about your love life before. 

“i’m good off a shitty boyfriend, i’d rather be alone if that’s the case,” you shake your head, then sip through your tiny straw. 

“suit yourself,” he palmed your shoulder with a hand that completely enveloped it, and you felt the skin underneath burn. 

you felt eyes boring into your head from behind you, and you quickly turned, scanning the area. you saw your roommate and her boyfriend in the smoking corner, minho and han, then san, who was leaning against the concrete of the wall separating the rooftop from the drop to the ground below. like a hawk, he watched you through lowered eyes, taking in every move. you quickly turned back around, expecting chan to still be there, but he was gone, probably off being a good host to his party. you wiped the chill off of you, finishing off your drink, dismissing the guilty feeling creeping up your spine because chan is single again. determination washes over you, this time you’d be hell bent upon telling him how you feel, finally getting your chance to be with him. it was your turn this time. 

san was beyond frustrated. watching you talk to chan after all of these months, even from afar, picking up your body language, he was sick to his stomach. the way you shifted from foot to foot, unconsciously leaned into his touch, flipped your hair behind your back to show off your décolletage, san could pick up on exactly what you were thinking and he hated it. 

san wasn’t in the lead, he was forever the number two, your favorite best kept hidden secret. he was sick of it, sick of being with you behind closed doors, sick of dropping everything for you, sick of being under your spell. he knew his place, knew it enough to where he didn’t even approach you on the rooftop. he knew there would be a call, a text, a fucking messenger pigeon that would get him in your bed tonight, he was sure of it. when chan went back inside the apartment for the night and didn’t have a soul beside him, he knew exactly how the outcome of the night would go, and he was excited for it. 

as san slammed your apartment door shut behind him, you jumped nearly a foot in the air, turning to furrow your eyebrows. the two of you ended up leaving together, an outcome that wasn’t on his list of possibilities – no messenger pigeon needed. he was surprised, he didn’t think you’d even want to be seen getting in the same car as him. 

“what was that for?” the slam startled you, it was unlike him, he was delicate with everything he did.

“i’m sick of this, ri,” he shook his head, standing by the entrance to your kitchen, not following you into the living room. your stomach dropped, you should’ve seen this coming.

“what do you mean?” you opted for obliviousness after a pause, unsure of how to go about this conversation again after your last one was just two weeks ago. 

“i’m sick of being your secret, whatever the hell i am to you,” he ran a hand through his hair, “actually, that’s a good question. what am i to you, riley?”

you gulped, your eyes widening, coming to yet another moment of silence. you didn’t know how to answer, didn’t know how to tell him what you didn’t know yourself. 

“you don’t know? or you know and can’t say it?” he understands your silence, using his hands as he speaks, “tell me the truth.”

“i don’t know, san, a friend?” your voice is unsure, small. you wanted to shrink yourself, wanted to be anywhere but here, having this conversation. this is the first time you’ve seen this side of him, you and san had never argued before, the last time you had this talk it didn’t have any anger or frustration. 

“a friend? i’m a friend?” he laughs, a sarcastic chuckle that you’ve never heard leave his lips. you must’ve gotten away with it two weeks ago, this was really the end, there was only one way this talk could go. “a friend that knows every inch of you, a friend that’s spent more time here the past six months than the apartment they still pay rent at? that’s a fucking joke, riley.”

tears gathered in your eyes, ones that you weren’t exactly sure why they were there, you felt caught. bombarded with a choice you didn’t want to make. he was finally understanding your web of lies, finally over it, over you. you weren’t ready to let him go, you wanted to continue to live in your bubble with him, you wanted him to stay. you didn’t let them fall.

“what do you want me to say?” you don’t have a rebuttal, you don’t have any sly words that could change the topic, even momentarily change what he’s feeling. you chose anger, deflection.

“i want more, ri. i want you, i’ve wanted you since i met you. there’s no way you don’t know that,” he sighs, turning around, running that same hand through his hair. 

“and i can’t give you more, san, so what do you want me to do? force myself into something i’m not ready for? i’ve told you my piece,” you walk towards him, standing just a few steps from him.

“no, riley, i don’t want you to force yourself into being with me, that’s ridiculous. when we’re in public you barely look at me, let alone speak to me. what are you so afraid of? why can’t anyone know about… this?” he turned around, his own eyes glossy, looking down at you through damp eyelashes. your blood ran cold, colder than it had been from the moment he slammed the door, that familiar guilty feeling sitting in the pit of your stomach. 

“why do you need people to know? why do you need our relationship to be publicized? is being with me, here like this, not enough for you?” the laugh you let out was dry, calculated, “if it’s not enough then maybe we shouldn’t see each other anymore.” 

a small gasp left his lips, barely audible it could’ve been just an intake of air, his visage twisted the moment you spoke those words. with his lips and eyebrows turned downward, that slight anger, frustration, morphed into a sadness you never wanted to see again. 

“that’s not what i want,” his voice is smaller than you’ve ever heard it, a shy mumble, his gaze pointed downward at his fingers which played with his rings. “i don’t want to fight with you.” 

“i know, baby,” you stepped forward, placing a hand on his soft, reddened cheek, “i don’t want to fight with you, either. want you to be happy.” 

“i’m happy with you,” his voice cracked, a raw tone, as he glanced back up at you. his eyes red, glossed over, full of emotion, it broke your heart. you could never truly make him happy, you knew that, but you could momentarily.

“then let me take care of you,” and that you did, like you always did, the same way you did two weeks ago. you rode him to oblivion, until he forgot why he was upset in the first place, the same thing he did for you six months ago. 

a week later, you’d fought again. plenty of times.

almost every day for the whole week you started an argument over something so fucking stupid and you couldn’t stop. everything he did pissed you off, every time he tried to fix it, it pissed you off even more. you were overflowing with so many different emotions you couldn’t breathe, you needed space, you needed him, you needed chan. you were too overstimulated to think clearly, if you were ever thinking clearly to begin with.

the guilt from not returning his feelings, but not being at ease when he isn’t sleeping in your bed.. it didn’t make any sense. you felt insane, suffocated in the overwhelming feelings you couldn’t bring yourself to return. you liked san, you liked everything about him, but the fervent feelings he had towards you mirrored what you felt for chan. 

there was now nothing left unsaid. there was no unspoken deal between you anymore, no weapon left to use to let yourself get off without consequence. you were uncomfortable, uncomfortable with his feelings, uncomfortable with your own, you felt shoved in a corner you couldn’t walk away from. 

the only things that stayed consistent in that week were chan’s rooftop, chan’s living room, and his incessant need to talk to you every damn time you were there.  

san felt like he was losing his goddamn mind. 

he wished he could go back in time and take back everything he said, his confession, his feelings, he had ruined everything. you would go from not answering him to getting pissed off that he answered your text with ok instead of okay… it seemed like he couldn’t do anything right, in a constant state of fear that today would be the day you break it off with him for real. 

his day to day life was only getting worse. he was making cocktails wrong at work, not replacing ice, handing the wrong beer to patrons at the bar. he got replaced again in his spot for his dance class, reprimanded by his teacher, minho gave him not one but two additional talks about getting his shit together. 

he hadn’t seen you since the night you argued two weeks ago, he hasn’t even been going out for just a glimpse of you, he’s been playing catch up for what felt like weeks. to make matters worse, he was pent up, he’d been so used to a consistent sex life, he needed release. he needed a night to let go of you, all of the whiplash he’d endured for weeks now, he needed a night to just be himself. to forget.

he called wooyoung, his best friend who was always out in the city, always had plans. thankfully he was going to a club that night to celebrate your roommate’s recent internship acceptance. wooyoung assured him that you wouldn’t be there, it would only be a couple of your roommates' close friends. he didn’t ask why you wouldn’t be there, he tried to convince himself he didn’t care, he needed to start forgetting now.

he hopped out of bed and got ready fast, the clock already past eight, and headed over to meet the group before going to the club. they were all familiar faces from the rooftop, despite him only knowing wooyoung super intimately. all of the nights he spent at your apartment your roommate was usually at her boyfriend’s, and if she wasn’t, her and her boyfriend were cooped up in her bedroom.

but here he was, in a club he’s never heard of in the middle of manhattan celebrating her.

“have a drink, sannie, do something,” wooyoung slung his arm around san’s shoulder, bent behind the booth he was sitting at, “don’t just sit there and mope.”

san nodded, not having much to say if it didn’t have to do with you. he sipped his beer mindlessly, listening to everyone talking around him, their conversation had to be more entertaining then the jail he created for himself in his own mind. 

“...i’ve been trying to get them together for years! i’m so happy it’s finally happening!” your roommate says loud, drunkenly, talking to yunho’s girlfriend. 

“years?” yunho’s girlfriend asked, brushing her hair behind her ear, “why the hell did it take so long?”

“when they met they were all just good friends, then i was introduced and started dating jeongin pretty much immediately, i’m the one who noticed how she felt about him. she wouldn’t admit it for ages, until i finally got it out of her, and pretty much immediately after that chan started dating eden, you remember her, right?” san’s ears perked up at that, his stomach dropping immediately. he put the pieces together quicker than ki could run her mouth. the drinks from the pregame clearly made her filter pretty much nonexistent, this is a conversation he wasn’t supposed to be listening to, something he wasn’t supposed to hear. she didn’t notice the extra ear, but her boyfriend did.

“ki,” jeongin interrupted, eyes glancing back and forth between san and his girlfriend, talking over yunho’s girlfriend.

ki ignored him, too deep in her own conversation, “yes! like two weeks ago or something it finally clicked, they’ve been seeing each other since.” 

“who?” san interrupted, panic in his voice. 

he knew who, from the bottom of his heart. a little over two weeks ago was when san started the fight between the two of you, ever since then you’d been off. he hasn’t seen you. he knows damn well who.

ki’s eyes were wide, her jaw agape, and jeongin’s hand went to his forehead. 

“san, i-”

“who are you talking about, ki?” san sat a little straighter, his chin jutting out, “who’s been seeing chan for the past two weeks?”

“i think you already know who, san, i didn’t realize you didn’t know?” ki’s eyebrows furrowed in confusion, her hand holding her drink a little bit tighter. yunho’s girlfriend looked between san and ki, also confused, too nervous to ask any questions. the tension was thick in the air, too heavy for a night of celebration. san could feel the control he had over himself lessening by the second. 

san laughs, a dark chuckle, and something inside of him shifts. he’s done, he’s so fucking done. he feels stupid, it’s always been chan from the start, it’s always going to be chan. he tried telling himself months ago that you would see he was better for you than chan ever could be, but he was clearly so fucking wrong. chan would always be your endgame, it would never be him, no matter what he did for you. no matter how much he tried for you. no matter how much he begged for you.

everything he’s been feeling for the past two weeks, the confusing feelings, the constant begging just to see you, the amount of apologies he’d given to someone who didn’t fucking deserve them. how many times had you texted him when you were next to chan? how many times had you ignored him because you were next to chan?

san doesn’t get angry, san isn’t a fighter. san’s always been a peacekeeper, a problem solver, water to put out the fire. 

he is so fucking over it.

he thought about his grades, how long it’d taken him to bring them back up. his rehearsals, his performances, the center positions that had been taken away from him. how many bottles of beer he’d thrown away at work from constant fuck ups. how many times he’s gotten grilled from more people than he can count on his hands. 

he ignored ki, instead he looked into the crowd, suddenly remembering exactly where he was. he reached forward and grabbed one of the bottles yunho bought and took a long swig from it. he looked out in the crowd again and spotted a pretty little blonde thing almost immediately, and took a moment to reflect.

he remembered his life before you, before chan, before that fucking rooftop. how women fawned over him, flocked to him, how obsessed they were. how he didn’t have to try for anything or anyone. he passed the bottle to wooyoung behind him who was so taken aback he hadn’t said a word. 

“san, we can leave, we can go, it’s okay,” wooyoung said, bent over once more, taking the bottle from san’s hand, “we don’t have to stay here, let’s go.”

“if you’re not going to drink that then give it back,” his reply is so curt it sliced through the air like the knife ki just put through his chest, “we are not leaving.”

wooyoung took a swig of the bottle, a proud smirk growing on his face, “finally, man. let’s be done with it already.”

2:27 am ri: u up? ri: i miss you

[englishflagcumrag]

this is kalevi he's a cunty middle aged man who likes horror films

[lizzaneia-elizalde]

Male Yandere Adventurer x Female Magical Maiden Reader

Just imagine a man who’s on an adventure or is like a hunter or something, coming across a magical maiden bathing in a body of water, and he just has to make her his

I was inspired by all those beautiful water nymph/maiden oil paintings that I thought this would be a cool concept if reader darling was the magical one for a change. Or what if yandere also secretly had some magic blood in him!?

Thanks!!! 💝

Yandere! Male! Hero! Isekai'ed Adventurer x Fem! Elementalist mage! Reader

💝 ANON! I love this request so much because I love worldbuilding. Making your own lore to magical worlds is just-- ack!

This time, this world will be the same as Yan! Villain's world. Hope you don't mind me putting more elements to the fic.

Also, my ask box is going to be open again! Finally. Lol. :3

Yan! Isekai'ed Adventurer's name: Aeron

A great Adventurer. Someone who defeated the Demon King by his own hands without any help.

From a nobody to the Hero everyone looked up to, Aeron shot up through the ranks of the Empire.

Charismatic, brave, strong, and determined, Aeron was somebody people underestimated before.

After all, he just suddenly appeared one day. In the middle of the throne room, nonetheless.

Begging for his life, Aeron pleaded the Emperor to not put him in jail for trespassing the palace. So, with the Emperor looking to take advantage of this man, he assigned Aeron to kill the Demon King by himself.

"Isn't that suicide?"

Yes, it was.

But Aeron is desperate. So he agreed to the quest and set off with only a few copper coins, a sword, bow, shield, stale bread, and the clothes on his back.

He's legitimately sent to die.

Only a human. Without any powers, nor he didn't go to the gym that much to have the physical prowess to even have a chance of fighting back.

He was so scared. So small, so powerless in a world filled with unknown magic that he didn't encounter back in earth at all.

He's someone who hopped from party to party, as people only saw him as fodder, or they just scammed him of free labor. Then abandoned once they realized he's off to kill the Demon King.

He tried so hard.

So hard for people to take him seriously.

But all he received was ridicule, harsh words, and spits or beatings for the people who went too far.

Humans, all they cared about are themselves and nobody else.

Selfish, hateful, and evil.

Are they sure the Demon King is the evil one and not them?

His body screamed in pain everyday as he hiked alone and taken advantage of. His wounds severe, his leg cut off. He tried so hard to be so understanding, but what is there to understand of hearts so filled with vile intentions?

Revenge, he was fueled with it.

He wants to see blood, he wants to see them suffering for the suffering he got. Tenfold.

Hero? He was no hero as he cut off the head of the Demon King who was innocent, and didn't do anything wrong.

Does he feel bad?

He feels too bad for himself to feel bad for others.

Waving the head of the Demon King, he trudges back to the Palace. Throwing the head at the feet of the fearful Emperor. Aeron sighs, knowing everything is finally going to his direction as the Emperor grants him Marquess status, after kicking the previous Marquess for corruption.

As the hero, he was regarded as a celebrity. Everyone loved him, and everyone revered him. Those who wronged him before though, now boasts of being his ex-party mates, and that they were the best of friends. Singing praises as if they didn't sling hurtful words to his way before.

Let's just say, they ended up dead the next day for even trying to say those words.

There's only one person who genuinely helped Aeron.

A mage, living alone in the woods on the foot of the Demon King's castle. She's somewhat of an enigma, capable of holding off monsters from trying to invade the Empire, especially the Demon King himself. Sure, the King is innocent, but only because he was not successful in invading the Empire yet due to her.

And she was you.

Truthfully, you were only a bored, overpowered mage who decided to protect the Empire one day. You wield all the main elements in a precision that nobody has topped off before, and sub-elementals in a way that other master wizards only dream of wielding.

OP, sure, but you didn't care about other people's feelings.

So, how did Aeron meet you?

On the way to the top of the castle, he had to take a bath due to being rancid. Showered with monsters' blood left and right, he hadn't had a bath for so long too, focused on killing the Demon King and nothing more. He didn't even care about his leg being gone as he hopped towards the stream.

Then, he saw you. Beautiful, ethereal you.

Bathing under the moonlight, the water cascaded down your skin and onto your curves, and down to the stream once more. Your hair, wet, shines as if stars sparkled within them.

Then your eyes. Deep, sharp, bored.

He was captivated.

"Who are you?" You asked, not even looking at him as you continued to wield the stream's water to make a pseudo shower. "Do not look at me like that, lecher."

Aeron froze, embarassed.

"Ah no, I just... Want to take a bath too when I saw you."

Your gaze looked at him.

"I can see that you really need a bath."

Aeron flushed red once more.

You cracked your neck before standing up. Aeron's eyes followed your every movement as you went up to him.

He could feel his heart beat increase in speed.

Then, feeling an itch on his leg stump, his eyes widened as a grotesque yet mesmerizing event happened. His leg is reforming once more.

"How did you..." He flexed his leg, in awe.

"Take a bath, you smell bad." You dismissed him before going away.

"Your name! Miss..." He yells, eyes erratic.

"Y/N. See you around, future hero."

And you left with a bag of gold, a mana infused sword, bow with mana arrows, and a shield made of obsidian.

The complete opposite of the Emperor.

His heart raced once more as tears fell from his eyes.

The first act of kindness he received in this world.

He vowed to repay you, so he took a bath, and headed straight to the Demon King to fight.

Now, he's here to pay back the kindness you gave him.

And he just hopes you recognize the man in front of you.

Or else.

After helping the Duke Eros in the war and earning another victory in his belt, Aeron rested his body in his chateau once more.

He placed his arm over his eyes, sighing deeply.

little dancing black sprites danced all around him as the sun filtered through the arched windows. These sprites started following him after he defeated the Demon King, and now he wields them like how a magic user does. He's still completely magic-less, but thanks to the sprites, he got to wield magic.

It was sunset, and Aeron just got back from reporting to the Emperor who gloated about the fact that this Empire just won another war.

"That freak." He muttered.

The current Emperor, who just succeeded the previous Emperor who mysteriously died with black sprites latched on his body, was a warfreak who wanted to spread his territory for fun, and spills bloodshed for the thrill of it. He's just the same age as Eros and Aeron, but god is he a crazy motherfucker.

Aeron stood up, letting the sprites dance around his palm as he casted magic on his hand. The sprite absorbed into his skin, making his arm pitch black with his veins dying the dark color. Creeping up to his arm.

"Portal."

The spatial frame cracked, forming a what looked like a broken glass opening.

It opens to the forest, the foot of the Demon King's castle.

His heart rate picked up once more.

He stepped forward, entering into the portal and being teleported into the forest.

One thing he got from the war he was forced to join is a ring with a jewel the same color as your eyes. One with an intricate carving and a unique design. As if veins popped out of the jewel, which was the centerpiece. It's embedded with fae magic that Aeron hopes is useful for you.

His steps heavy, the crunch of the leaves under you filled his ears. He's quiet, even his breathing light and seemingly not there. His time in the war, and fighting different beasts after the Demon King trained his body to perfection.

He stopped in front of the stream once more, a sense of dejavu knocked into him as he watched you bath once more there.

The moonlight filtered through the much bigger trees and into you below. You were much more magnificent than he remembers.

He gulped, itching to touch you, kiss you, feel you.

He felt pent up. But he knows that he should stop himself.

"*ehem*, my lady." He said, back straight and chest out. His eyes sparkling with warmth. "Remember me?"

You, startled as you didn't feel a presence, whipped your body towards him. A stark contrast to how you reacted before.

But, he felt his stomach drop when you looked at him all confused.

"Who are you?"

He suddenly clammed up.

Sweat started to riddle his face, eyes wide with betrayal.

This...

"I'm the person you helped before, my lady. The one without a leg?"

You hummed.

"I don't really recognize you..."

He started to breath heavily and shakily. His eyes, trembling, he tried to find signs of your form if you were joking.

But no, you were serious.

He took a step forward, his lips trying to say something. Anything.

You shrugged at his reaction.

"I help a lot of people, really. So I don't recognize you. Have I helped you? I assume I did, as you said."

But all he could utter was a helpless, silent cry.

This was worse than being exploited.

The only person who was nice to him when he got isekai'ed into this godforsaken world forgot him.

And you helped other people?

Not just him?

Something unknown bubbled deep into his stomach painfully. It felt like it was wrenching into a boulder he can't seem to lift away.

"My Lady... I..." His mouth felt dry.

You shrugged, snapping your fingers and making you instantly dry after you went up to the shore.

Wearing your clothes, you waved to him before going away once more.

Aeron felt sick to his stomach as he keeled over.

He never cried.

He refused to cry for the people who wronged him.

But now, tears flowed down from his eyes as he started to go under a panic attack.

"My Lady... Why... Why don't you remember me..." He sobbed out, his throat painfully clawing out cries of desperation. The tears soaked his cheeks but he didn't care. "You were so nice to me... Why?"

The fantasy he built inside your mind was now broken completely. He thought you will remember him. He didn't consider that you won't remember him.

He felt so lost.

What's all this for?

What is he fighting for?

When his lady doesn't even remember him?

He gripped the grass beneath him. A strangled cry finally gargling out of his mouth.

Why did he feel so attached to you?

Just because you were the nicest to him?

So what? You chose to be nice in this place filled with vile people.

He just wished you didn't.

He just wished you left him alone, maybe even be rude to him like others did if you would just forget him.

But no, you used your magic on him. A pathetic alien in this grotesque world filled with magic and discrimination.

He just wished he would die then and there.

As negative thoughts filled him, the darkness around him seeped into his legs and arms. Like the sprites, black veins crept around his limbs painfully and into his neck.

What is a hero?

His sclera turned black, his breathing became shorter and shorter.

Does a hero need to be always good?

Something poured inside him, making him gargle in pain. Drool dripped down his chin as he snapped out of it. He writhed in pain from the sudden influx of mana inside his body.

Why was he sent to this goddamn world in the first place?

He curled his toes, his body becoming rigid. Like a leech sprinkled with salt, he painfully clawed at his face as he moved around the place. His heart pounding fast, his mind pulsing all over the place.

Is the purpose of him being isekai'ed here is to save the world?

He hacked up blood, keeling over. The boulder in his stomach now a fiery acid he wished to dispel from his body. He vomits out blood again, but it was pitch black.

But if he was destined to be a hero, why is he suffering so much?

He wants the pain to be gone, he wants it off. He wants to ask for your help, to scream for your name to alleviate his pain like you did before. But no sound came from his mouth. Only black and purple smoke as his body underwent changes he never thought would happen.

Please, will you help this poor man?

After an hour, he shakily stood up. He felt that his senses got more sensitive, tenfold. He can feel every beast's emotion. He can feel overwhelming power inside him, same as authority.

After all, you were the light to his world.

And, as hundreds of beasts surround him, a sprite descended from above and placed a crown on his head. The monsters bowed to him. He numbly stood there, looking so disheveled but so ominous as he took a deep sigh.

Give this Demon King a chance, yes?

You flipped through your mythology book, lazily drinking tea.

You just finished eating dinner, and is now lounging at the roof of your treehouse. Intaking the mana into your body slowly, you had a relaxed form as you yawned from tiredness.

Then you felt it.

The sudden influx of demonic power converging into one place.

Your body shivered, goosebumps riddling your skin.

Coincidentally, the page you stopped on had the ritual of birthing the new Demon King.

After defeating the previous Demon King, a person experiencing the worst grief there is, someone who only received harshness and no kindness in his life, will be able to become the Demon King if a trigger happened. May it be betrayal of feelings, or if one act of kindness inside his unfortunate life suddenly turned sour. Creating the Ultimate Grief, the catalyst of the demonic power to surge inside that person.

Will you run away, or investigate, or stay?

You froze, not knowing what to do.

The only person inside the forest is the Empire's Hero earlier, who introduced himself to you.

What happened?

Is this related to you?

But you seriously don't remember him.

Or did you, and just don't want to acknowledge it by some reason?

Your trembling hand reached for your bag and hastily packed up your stuff. The previous Demon King was weak, somebody who lived for so long that his negative Demonic Powers were slowly depleting.

And the birth of a new Demon King is never a good sign.

This is one of the few times you cursed yourself for not learning how to do teleportation.

Two bags. Not enough but will do for now.

You need to warn the Empire.

"AH!"

As you grabbed the bags and tried to get out of your house, you stopped in your tracks when black veins crept on the floorboards, trying to reach your legs.

Heart rate picking up, you got up the couch.

You just knew that if these veins reached you, you are a gonner.

You clutched your bag, hearing a sorrowful moan outside the treehouse.

"My Lady... Why don't you recognize me?"

You're powerless against a newly awakened Demon King.

You can't escape him.

"You're my light, why did you forget me..."

Your walls creaked and moaned under the intense pressure Aeron was emitting. As if they were yelling at you for forgetting him.

"Was it because I was scrawny and dirty back then?"

He continued to wail outside of the treehouse. You tried casting light magic and dark magic, but they didn't do jackshit on the veins. They continued to try and wrap around your legs.

"My lady... Should I bathe myself in blood for you to recognize me?!"

Powerful wind blew away your front door as you screamed in terror.

Aeron stood on the archway, eyes bloodshot and crazy as his handsome visage was filled with grief, longing, love, anger, sadness...

"You're the same as them my lady..."

You searched his face, trying to recognize him. Your body was struggling to stay standing from the amount of pressure being pressed on your body.

Wait, something's coming in your mind.

As an attempt to speed up your memory, you hit your head with the heel of your palm. In a state of panic of wanting to remember immediately.

The floorboards groaned under his weight as Aeron stepped forward to you.

"Remember me, my lady. Please." Dark tears fell on his cheeks. "Please..."

"Ah! You... The man with the bloodiest stench, with the leg stump that I fixed!"

You spoke so fast that Aeron almost didn't catch it.

The wind stopped howling.

"You... You remembered me..." Aeron laughed, his eyes wide with manic desperation. "Oh my god, you do..."

Aeron slumped down, hugging your waist as he wept.

"My lady, you're too much! You should have told me that you remember me sooner!" He laughed lightly, holding your hand as he buried his face on your stomach.

The sudden shift in mood sent you into a harsh whiplash.

"I-I'm sorry." You whispered, not getting this man in front of you at all.

"I forgive you." He whispered, hands wrapped around you tight.

He feels so good now. No more grief, no more crying.

He just knows you remember him now. Nobody matters but you, and your recognition of him.

"My Lady, i'm here to propose." He suddenly said, making your blood run cold.

And, as he separated himself from you, he kneeled down on both knees, as if pleading you to say yes.

This man, the greatest hero of the Empire, was now kneeling in front of you. Awakened as a Demon King from the grief you caused. His eyes hooded, dripping with overwhelming affection for you.

What have you done?

You've condemned the Empire, this world to a Demon King once more.

"My life here in this Empire was the worst. Everyone hated me, took advantage of me, stole from me, abused me in every way possible. I lost hope, and was driven with revenge. But you, my lady. You showed me kindness when no one did, and I knew you are my soulmate." He confessed passionately, his voice dripping honey sweet with delusional feelings for you. "So, be my wife, my marchioness, my queen..."

You've got the Demon King and the Greatest Hero wrapped around your finger.

Be proud.

And, as you nodded hesitantly, he slipped in the ring he was fidgeting with earlier.

You flinched, feeling it tighten around your digit. Spikes digging slightly, making sure you cannot take it off of you no matter what.

You want to scream at him for this absurd ring, but the ominous smile he had made you clam up.

You are his salvation, and he would die without you.

So chin up, and hold onto the leash tight,

You won't know when this rabid dog will bite the hand that feeds him.

And you don't intend to fuck around and find out.

[treacheryinblue]

Chapter 3/4

Noah Sebastian x F!Reader Series

Word Count: 8.9k

Masterlist

× Summary: Noah is Death, the ruler of the after life (or whatever you want to call it), though he is cursed to watch you come and go from his never ending existence time and time again.

× Warnings!: Eh-level smut (P in V obviously), language, little bit of violence, tiny fluff if you squint, very slight dom!noah, smut with plot aka this became more in depth than I meant for it to aka a one shot that's now a series. Non-proofread smut. Let me know if I missed anything!

× Author's Notes: ( 1 ) It's a bit of a long one, folks! Consider it a thank you for being so patient while I've worked through my writer's block. ( 2 ) Don't look too deep into the lore I've created because there's probably a lot that doesn't make sense. But if you are curious, then feel free to ask me any questions! ( 3 ) I'm but a writer that thrives off positive feedback (or even constructive criticism), so don't be shy when it comes to interacting with the post, or even me.

Happy reading! xoxo

“That soul is not meant for this land, my lord.”

Silence was given as a response. 

“She is not destined to be here, and you know what will hap-”

“Yes, I am well aware of the consequences to my actions.” Noah heavily exhaled, though he appeared uninterested in the conversation. 

Sitting atop his throne, black and sleek, one hand gripped the arm rest while the other was bent and lifted to his face. He examined his nails, further showing his boredom. 

“Please forgive me if I'm speaking out of turn, my lord, but…the Light Ones are not happy. It has been nine times now and each plays out just like the last.”

A growl was emitted from him, dark eyes flickering to the creature who stood below. “I do not need you reciting my failures to me, demon.”

Noah couldn't bear to think of how you had been ripped from him countless times now. Pried from his hands. Stolen away. You had spent centuries together, longer than any human could dream of living - if one could call you alive - but he knew an infinite amount of centuries more would never be enough. He needed forever. 

“If the Light Ones think I'm going to give up just because they look down upon my doings, then they are sorely mistaken. Maybe they aren't as all knowing as they like to remind us of every chance they receive.” He spat with disdain. 

The demon clamped their mouth shut in fear that they may further anger the embodiment of darkness sitting before them. This is how they remained for a long moment, neither speaking, but the demon holding many questions on their pointed tongue. 

“‘My lord…” they cautiously began after a moment. “Might I ask…what is it about this girl that you're so drawn to? You encounter humans everyday, thousands of them, but none have made you so…”

“Weak?” Noah finished the demon’s sentence for them, his eyebrows quirked. 

The demon immediately fell to their knees, their jagged forehead pressing to the marble floor as if to already begin begging for forgiveness. 

“No! I would never say as such, my lord!” 

Noah shook his head as his focus returned to his nails, just as the ruby encrusted dagger appeared within his grasp out of thin air. 

“There's no need to grovel,” he exclaimed while turning the dagger, inspecting every inch of the blade. “I have become weak when it comes to her…but I don't have an answer for you as to why.”  

It was still a mystery even to him. 

“Does Death itself not deserve the chance to love and to be loved in return, though?” 

× × ×

“Legend says it's cursed.” 

You snorted a laugh as you looked up at the friendly face across the counter, though his expression was as serious as ever, causing your smile to falter slightly. 

“Cursed?” Might as well indulge him a bit if he was going to get all mega serious on you now. 

Nicholas was your go-to guy when it came to purchasing oddities and strange artifacts. He was good at tracking down the specific items you'd ask for but he also had a knack for snagging things he thought you'd find interesting. 

Your eyes dropped to the dagger as you leaned into the glass countertop. There was a twitch in your fingers to reach out and touch the item, to feel the cool metal against your fingertips, though you knew better. Nick was typically pretty light hearted and you two could share a laugh, but you knew when to stay within your lane when it came to his business. Don't touch it until he offers it to you. 

“From what I could find online, it's ancient, so old that no one can really say for sure how long it's been around. And you know how it goes with old things - always a curse or some shit attached to them.” 

Nodding in agreement to his words, your eyes paused upon the faintly noticeable sigil that remained etched into the dagger’s blade. The sigil is why you wanted the item, what you had asked Nick to search for in particular. 

“It's probably bullshit,” he continued, “but it was something about going to the flames if you're on the end of the blade.”

“The website was in some foreign language and the guy I bought it from barely spoke English so I can't give you an accurate translation yet. Who even knows if it's legit.” 

The bell above the door dinging briefly overtook Nicholas' attention. He held a finger up to you to silently tell you to ‘hold on’, then he stepped around the counter to greet his new patrons. 

“It's legit,” you softly spoke to yourself as you gazed upon the dagger again. There was something drawing you to it; a warmth, a knowing. Your eyes focused in on the cloudy rubies - you knew they'd shine again with a thorough cleaning - and they pulled you closer and closer, your sights now level with the item. Had there been a flicker within the largest stone? Couldn't be. Your eyes were clearly playing tricks on you now. 

As Nick returned, you straightened your posture and smiled. “I'll take it.” 

“What?” Nicholas opened his mouth to speak but then only breathed out, his head tilting slightly to the side. 

“You know I have to charge you as if it's real, right? I mean, I haven't been able to fully inspect it myself or do anymore research, so I feel kinda like an asshole doing th-”

“Nick, it's fine.” You laughed while retrieving your wallet from your bag, fingers digging into the slot that held your credit card. “It's a chance I'm willing to take.” 

“Alright…it's your money.” 

A few minutes later and your new purchase was packaged and ready to go. Nick approached you with an outstretched hand that held the blood red box the dagger was stashed away in, uncertainty in his eyes. You knew he hated not knowing all the ins and outs of his inventory, especially when it came to something with such a hefty price tag. 

“Are you coming tonight?” He asked as you accepted the box which was now being held close to your chest. 

“It's the first show with our new singer but he's been fucking great in rehearsals. Really has an ear for the band.” 

You nodded, again flashing a friendly smile. “I wouldn't miss it for the world.” 

After a bit more chit chat and hammering down the finer details on how the night would go, you said your goodbyes to Nicholas with the obvious promise of seeing him in a few short hours. 

Making your way out of the shop, phone in hand and AirPods nestled in your ears, you only looked up when you were about to cross the street. On the opposite side stood a man, his dark eyes set entirely on you. He was wearing all black with deep brown hair that brushed his cheeks, hands clasped behind his back. Something about him made your stomach do a flip and you felt a pull despite having no idea who this man was. 

Slowly, your feet began to carry you along the crosswalk. He remained in place, though a faint smirk dared to appear over his lips. Your cheeks flushed crimson and you had the urge to glance away like some timid little school girl, but there was something preventing you from looking anywhere but at him. 

“Come.” 

A voice drifted into your mind and then back out as if being carried by the wind. You knew that should've frightened you but you felt nothing. Nothing aside from the biting need to be near this unknown man. 

Then, he was suddenly gone and you were left empty. 

The blaring beep of a horn shook you, your body flinching in surprise from the sudden harsh noise. You looked over to the car that was inches from colliding with you, a hand waving all about behind the windshield and motioning for you to get the fuck out of the way. 

× × ×

 

Arms above your head, you loudly hollered along with the rest of the crowd as the song came to an end. Red lights flashed all around you, the stage illuminating and going fully dark in quick succession. Your hands collided in a fury of claps before lowering to cup around your mouth. 

“Wooooo!” You had never been much of a ‘woo girl’ but alcohol made it loads more enjoyable to do. 

You could feel the vibrations from both the noise you projected and the bass of the band in the hollow of your stomach, reverberating throughout your entire being. There was something sensual about it - being able to not only hear the music but also feel it. 

Nicholas’ band had been pretty decent before so coming to see them and support their gigs was never an issue. But now? They were fucking amazing. The new singer definitely added to whatever they had been lacking previously, even if there wasn't anything specific you could put your finger on. 

Did it help that the new singer happened to catch your eye a few times? Maybe. 

“Hey!” Nicholas yelled out for you after their set. He had found you at the bar towards the back of the club - just where you always were. 

“Hey yourself!” You called back as a fresh drink was set in front of you by the bartender. 

Nick rolled his eyes at you but still chuckled. Sweat beaded on his forehead, pupils blown from the adrenaline rush he had experienced while on stage. You always thought Nick was pretty cute and you both had a lot in common - he had even asked you out once - but things were better kept as friends between the two of you. As well as the occasional artifacts dealer, of course. 

“Didn't get a chance to see you before we went on, so let me introduce you to the newest member.” 

“Noah!” The guy spoke up for himself, his voice loud enough for him to be heard over the commotion of the crowd and also the next band setting up. 

You paused as your gaze met his, eyes squinting ever so slightly while taking in his face from this new close proximity. He looked just like the ethereal man you had seen outside of Nick’s shop earlier, but also…not. That guy had been finely dressed with much shorter hair and a presence about him that demanded attention, this guy in front of you was the epitome of a 'guy in a band'. Long hair, jeans blown out at the knee, worn Vans that told you he dressed for comfort. Their smiles were the same, though. 

Instead of giving your name, you opted for a question.  “Do you have a brother?” 

Noah extended to you a look of confusion though you swore you saw a mischievous gleam in his dark eyes. 

 “Uh, no? Not that I know of.” Despite your weird question, he laughed and stepped a bit closer to you, his elbow leaning into the side of the bar top. 

Nicholas had fallen into conversation with another band mate, leaving just you and Noah to entertain each other. 

You spared him the explanation of why you had asked such a question. The last thing you needed was to seem creepy or more odd than you already did on a day to day basis. Thankfully it didn't seem as if that was going to deter him from cozying up to you at the end of the bar. 

Drink after drink was had with a couple of shots downed in between. You had found out that Noah had recently moved to Los Angeles, worked at a graphic design company, owned a cat, and shared a building with a rather odd Asian woman that liked to bring him homemade meals multiple times a week. 

You also discovered that you liked the way his eyes crinkled when he smiled too wide and how he was always touching his face as if it was a comforting habit of some sort. 

“Nick said you like to collect…unusual things?” 

You cleared your throat and abruptly averted your gaze before he could realize you had been staring. 

“I guess that's one way to put it,” you admitted with a sheepish smile. Not even the alcohol could mask the embarrassment. 

“My dad was an antiques dealer, scam artist, whatever you want to call it.” You paused to take a swallow from your glass but to also let your honesty sink in. 

“So, I kinda just grew up with old objects that told a story. Buying them for myself - as someone who will care for them and their story - sounds better to me than allowing them to be on display in a stuffy museum somewhere.” 

“That's why you bought the dagger?” 

Huh…had you mentioned the dagger to him? Maybe not. Maybe so. Maybe Nick told him about it. Either way, you took in a deep breath, your head swimming from the alcohol. 

“Not exactly…” 

Noah looked at you curiously, silently asking for you to continue. To tell him. But how were you to explain that you awoke one day with this nagging obsession for the sigil stamped on the blade? That you desired to find every single item you possibly could that bore the same marking? It was impossible to divulge because you had no idea why you had become so hell bent on acquiring these things. You didn't even know what the damned sigil meant. 

“Did you want to see it?” 

And like he had been waiting for you to ask, Noah flashed a devilish grin.  

“I'd love to.”

× × ×

Pleasure erupted throughout your entire body as Noah kneeled between your spread legs. His hands held tight to your hips, pulling you down to grind against him with every forward thrusting motion. He groaned above you, teeth gritted and jaw clenched, revealing to you all the work he was putting in. 

And boy did you feel it. 

You had already cum twice - once from his mouth and again from him bending you over the arm of the couch when neither of you could make it to your bedroom fast enough. 

Most of the time even you had to pray the wind was blowing in the right direction so you could cum in a timely manner, yet Noah had managed to get you there in near record time. 

“Fucking hell! Right there!” You cried out as his cock pierced just the right spot within your drenched and aching cunt. Heavy pants escaped from you, each breath becoming louder and more pronounced the harder he drove his hips. 

Noah’s tattooed fingers dug deep enough into your hips that you knew you'd have bruises the next morning. They'd match the bruise you'd have on your ass from when he had you bent over and administered quite a harsh spank. 

He released your hips so he could trail his hands down along your tense thighs, kneading and massaging into the flesh. One hand continued its downwards trek to your clit as the other drifted up, pausing at your neck. Slender fingers secured around your throat and applied enough pressure to cause your heart to race and your breath to hitch, though not enough to cause any worry. 

Why would you ever be worried about hooking up with a stranger and allowing him into the privacy of your home? 

Noah's thumb swirled around your clit, each pass over the nerves causing your thighs to twitch and your hips to buck. He was then leaning over you so he could capture your lips in a hungry kiss, so much so that you swore you heard him growl against your lips. Not that you were fazed by this. 

“Uh uh,” he scolded after parting from your lips to gaze down at you. “Eyes open.” 

To show how serious he was in this demand, his hand further tightened around your throat, short nails digging into the sensitive skin. You gasped for air but it was all too much; the overpowering ecstasy that coursed through your every being as you felt his cock throb inside of you, the rigid veins that stimulated the tight walls of your pussy, his thumb on your clit, his onyx eyes never drifting from yours. 

How were you to survive this night? 

Your body tensed and your lower back arched as you felt the first ripplings of your orgasm. Your third orgasm. Then - everything released. You writhed beneath him, eyes finally closing which was no choice of your own, all while his name and a mixture of other profanities echoed through the room. 

In the midst of your climax, your vision was hazy from the intensity, as well as the lack of oxygen greeting your brain. With every blink Noah’s face shifted; it went from the band frontman you had met that night to the dark stranger across the street earlier in the day, then back again, only to repeat the cycle. There was no way that's what was really happening, so you chalked it up to your overactive imagination and mostly drunken state. 

The mess you made meant nothing to you, nor did the added mess of his cum when he managed to meet his ending in tandem. Noah’s hips lost momentum gradually before stilling completely, though your cunt continued to collapse and clench around him until your body finally settled. 

It wasn’t much later that Noah laid sprawled across your bed, his face pressed to the pillow, breathing steady after drifting off to sleep. Unfortunately, you didn't have the same luxury. There was a darkness creeping into your mind, repeated phrases demanding things of you, things of which you had never considered before. 

“Do it,” the voice whispered in your ear. 

At first you assumed it was Noah by the brush of his hair on your face and the familiar grasp of his fingers around your waist. But when you glanced back, he hadn't moved a muscle. 

“It would be so easy…”

“You want to. I know you want to. I can smell it on you.” 

When your eyes opened, the blood red box from Nick’s shop sat at your side. It was unwrapped, the dagger staring up at you from its temporary home. Taunting. Begging. Screaming to be touched. 

You listened. 

Fingertips traced the metal of the handle, down to the tip of the dagger that remained sheathed. 

“Pick it up.”

The order from the disembodied voice was obeyed, the dagger soon resting in your grasp. Still, no one was in the room with you other than Noah’s sleeping form, so how did you feel a breath on your neck? 

Rubies embedded in the dagger shone before your eyes now that it was held up for you to admire. So beautiful. Just what you had been searching for all this time. 

“Do it.”

You knew what the voice was asking of you. You knew it would end in your demise. Yet, you felt no fear. If anything, you were…excited. Possibly even anxious for what was to come. 

“Do it!” The voice loudly rang out, deep and commanding in your mind. 

Both hands now gripped the handle of the dagger after you pulled it from its sheath.  Arms stretched out before you, the blade was perfectly angled just where you somehow knew it needed to end up. 

Right in your heart. 

“Do it! Now!”

With quick motion that held all of your strength, you impaled the dagger into your own chest. You could hear it break through the bone that protected your heart - your body no match to the power that lied within the weapon. 

“...going to the flames if you're on the end of the blade.” Nick's voice now penetrated your mind, a memory from hours ago. His words being that of the loosely translated curse that the dagger held. 

As soon as the blade punctured your chest, you felt a sense of clarity. You knew what the curse now was: die by way of the blade, go straight to Hell. 

Eyes wide, you looked down to the dagger protruding from you. Blood spilled from the wound, coating your naked body, staining your sheets. You tried to call out for Noah despite knowing he wouldn't be able to do anything to help you. 

Gathering what remained of your strength, which was next to none, you again glanced back to where you expected to see him sleeping. Instead, he was standing at the side of the bed, hands clasped behind his back, wearing the same smirk you had seen from the other Noah outside of Nicholas’ shop. 

In a blink you were then being cradled in his tattooed arms. His fingertips brushed your hair back from your face in the most loving of gestures, lips moving though you couldn't make out a thing he was saying. You couldn't hear anything. Couldn't feel anything. All you could do was allow yourself to be encased by the cold hands of death as it dragged you deeper and deeper down to the dismal abyss. 

“I'll see you on the other side, my love.”

× × ×

The forever night of the land taunted you as you gazed out the large window. Stars freckled the sky, twinkling and swirling cosmos in some spots, remaining still in most just as the night sky did back home. 

Home. 

Everyday that passed you forgot more and more what it looked like. 

You had remembered your death, all of your deaths, within minutes this time. Noah was beyond pleased, confessing that he always wondered if dying by your own hand was the trick though he had been nervous to see. Nervous to know what it would do to you. 

Well, now he knew. 

You were livid. Never had you felt so betrayed, and you made sure he was well aware of your anger towards him. Something told you that he felt it in your lack of appearances since you had yet to face him fully since arriving. 

“The Dark Lord has requested your presence today.”

A demon who had been appointed to your side ran a brush through your hair, gently ridding the strands of any tangles that had formed while you slept. You had told them day one that you could do it yourself but they insisted. Tending to you was now their duties and they had to do as commanded. 

“You can tell the Dark Lord to kiss my ass,” you mocked. 

The demon held back what you thought was the semblance of a chuckle, their unusually long fingers continuing to ready your hair for the day. 

“Forgive me for being so blunt, but I think it would be best if you spoke with him. Perhaps let your grievances out however you see fit?” 

Had you not done that the moment your memories returned? You very much recall throwing a heavy tea pot at his head, although he had dodged it with ease. Were your shouts of frustration not enough? Your tears? 

It wasn't that you were upset to be back with him. You were more so mad about how he had gotten you here this time. There had to be some other way that left out the whole dying part. 

“What's your name?” 

The demon paused briefly at your question. You could tell they had never been asked before, though you weren't sure if it was because everyone else here knew how things went or if no one simply cared. 

“I don't remember.” 

This confused you. Shifting a bit in your seat, you turned your upper body to look at the creature. They were definitely a sight to behold; scaly skin that glistened as if perpetually wet, yellow eyes with only the smallest white pupil appearing like a cat’s, a row of chipped horns going down the center of their head. 

You had stopped being scared of the demons here long ago. 

“Lowly demons, such as myself, lose their names upon becoming what we are. We are simply demon. The others, the ones you've probably heard of in some capacity within your mortal stories, are given new names when they become His strongest warriors.” 

Out of all of your ventures here, you had never been told about the inner workings of the land. You found it to be interesting. 

“Oh…” You felt silly for even asking, now also concerned that you had probably brought up a sore subject for the demon. No name? No identity? You couldn't imagine. 

Once the demon had somehow managed to weave deep red garnets and black diamonds into your hair, you were sent off to where Noah would be waiting. You tried to fight it, arms crossed over your chest as you sat pouting on the edge of the bed, but eventually the demon helped you realize that Noah would see you whether you wanted it or not. It was wise for you to go to him. 

And so you did. Like some sort of invisible string leading you to him, you managed to find him standing on the large balcony that jutted out from the castle, overlooking his land in silence. His posture straightened upon sensing your arrival, gaze now set only on you. 

“You look…” Onyx eyes raked up and down your body, no shame detected within them as he took in the black gown you had been instructed to put on. You didn’t want to admit to him the way his heavy stare made you feel. There was already a tingling in your lower stomach that radiated down between your thighs - no. You wouldn't fall for it that easily this time. 

“Don't,” you merely requested, a hand being held up to signal for him to stop any further words. Steps were then taken around him so you could approach the railing of the balcony, the carved stone cool beneath your touch as you tightly grasped it. 

“You're still angry…”

You said nothing. Silence overtaking you. 

“I…” he began, his voice falling while trying to gather his thoughts. Never had he been so concerned about anyone else before. Never had he been forced to wonder what the right thing would be to earn your forgiveness. 

“I'm sorry that things had to happen this way.”

Well, that weak excuse for an apology definitely made you want to yell at him to shove it up his ass. 

Your jaw clenched, knuckles turning white from the death grip you held on the stone railing. It would surely crack and splinter if any more of your strength was to be endured. 

“I liked your hair better longer,” you finally spoke, though you didn't look his way. Instead, your gaze remained focused out into the night, slowly cataloging and memorizing every dip and valley. 

“That you was nicer.”

Noah slowly shook his head as he reached out to lightly touch your hair, heated fingertips brushing the strands from your bare shoulder to reveal the curve of your neck. 

“Funny, because that was me, just in a slightly altered form to keep up appearances.”

As if he could read your thoughts, he continued. 

“I was never human, you know this. So, there are no other versions of me like there have been of you. There's only one. That's how it'll forever be.” 

Anger flared within you. “You're telling me…that you've been able to come to Earth this entire time? That I haven't needed to brutally die again and again to be with you? You are an insufferable mons-”

A strong hand grasped your arm, turning your body and pulling you in closer. You could tell that Noah wanted to speak to you as if you were one of his demons, someone for him to control, but he managed to contain his rage. 

“Do you know the danger I put my entire realm in just to walk amongst the living with you for an extended period of time? To go for my own selfish reasons and not because of my duties? To help guide you back to me? You're blind to the repercussions this land faced. Souls piled up, punishments halted, everything at a standstill. Do you think that has ever happened before?”

Silence as your eyes searched his. 

“We may have spent one night together on Earth, but the sheer amount of deaths within that singular night that went unprocessed…” 

Noah shuddered at the thought, his grip on you then loosening before releasing completely. 

“Think of me what you will, but what I did was for us. Everything I've done, and will do again and again, for us.”

You wanted to understand. You wanted to touch his face and tell him everything was okay. You wanted to press yourself into him and let his warmth overtake you. 

You wanted so many things, but none of it was what you did. 

Instead of giving into these wants and needs, you gave him one last look and then turned on your heel to saunter back into the farthest reaches of the castle. 

× × ×

The only thing you truly despised about this place was the lack of time. While you had an abundance of it, more than you could ever ask for, you still had no idea how much had passed. Days? Months? Hell, maybe a century? Time didn't work the same way here as it did on Earth, which you already knew, but it surely did drag when you were choosing to spend it alone. 

You had attempted to keep track of it at the beginning but eventually gave up when nothing fit the way it should have in your human mind. Noah even offered to set a sleep schedule, though that disappeared rather fast when his duties became too much to juggle along with it. 

A heavy sigh expelled from you as you flipped over onto your back. Your eyes stared through the darkness of your bedroom and up to the high ceiling where the same stars as the night sky beyond the open window danced along. A neat little trick Noah did when he knew you were restless. He may have been an asshole but he knew how to make you melt when showing his softer side. A side no one had ever seen before you. 

With another huff, you caved. 

Moments later you were standing in front of his bedroom door after having gently knocked. The door opened almost immediately, revealing his relaxed form sitting upon a grandeur bed with papers strewn about. It was always funny to see him do actual work especially when you had never witnessed anyone outside of the demons wandering the halls. 

Sometimes you'd hear other voices when he was locked away in his study, but nothing beyond that. 

“Stars didn't work?” 

You twisted your lips, head shaking in a single motion. 

“They're nice - beautiful - but it's not the same as…” you trailed off for a moment while trying to decide how much of your pride you were willing to spill down the drain. Not the same as when we're laying together. 

Noah noticed, he knew what you were going to say. He allowed you to keep the stubborn pride for now. In a snap the papers cleared away from a spot on the bed for you, an invitation to join him. 

Sitting against him, your knees bent to the side and your head resting on his shoulder, he continued to work. He would occasionally look over at you, brush your hair back, lightly touch your lips or cheek, then focus again. 

How you had managed to wrap Death around your finger, you would never know. 

“Can I ask a question?” 

Noah nodded, the paper in his hand being placed down so he could fully focus on you now. Another thing you loved about him: he never made you feel as if your presence was a bother. No matter what he was in the middle of. 

“Is this how you've always looked? Or do you only appear like this to me?” 

A crooked smile appeared on his features, his eyes crinkling in the corners just as you remembered from your brief time on Earth with him. 

“Why do you ask?” 

Avoidance - as usual. 

“I don't know…I mean, when it comes to humans, you are either shown as a skeleton in robes or this otherworldly beautiful man without flaws.” You shrugged. 

You didn't add on that you were also curious as to what was real. 

Noah didn't taunt you for your poor wording choice. He knew he was beautiful and he knew that you also knew this, but he understood what you meant. 

“Technically,” he began while rubbing his chin as if trying to find the right way to describe it to you, “I'm without a body because what I am transcends physical being.” 

Okay, that you could understand, at least for the most part. Was it still an odd thought? Yes, of course. All of this was odd. 

“But I've chosen to take on a flesh and blood form, even before you came along the first time. It helps to do so in my line of work…so the souls can relate, maybe feel a bit of comfort for a brief moment.” 

As he spoke you traced random designs and patterns into the top of his thigh, your fingertip slowly dragging along the soft material of his pants. You inwardly smirked to yourself when you noticed him shiver as your fingers traveled higher along his inner thigh. 

“I may have adjusted a few things specifically for you, though.” 

“That's why you have all the tattoos?” Your hand left his thigh so you could lightly touch the front of his neck, eyes focused on the inked designs that were quite an interesting choice for him. The religious visuals weren't lost on you - you knew why he had chosen those in particular. A cruel mocking to those above. A middle finger to the “Light Ones” who were always trying to act all better-than-thou. 

You didn't tell him that this was quite a human response just to spare you the glare he would surely respond with. 

“And the lisp?” You further teased, a smile finally gracing your lips again. 

“Again - makes me relatable.”

You hummed in thought, watching him as he watched you. Noah had yet to return to his work meaning he knew there was more you wanted to say. And while this was true, you were more so transfixed by how close you two were. You could feel his breath on your face and see the patterns of different brown shades within his irises, both combined drawing you closer and closer until finally your lips collided with his. 

Were you still mad at him? Yes, very much so, but that didn't change the feelings you had for him. The tether between you was far too strong, probably impossible to snap. 

Noah didn't waste any time as your kiss deepened and intensified. He leaned back into the pillows of his bed, drawing you with him until your body almost completely covered his. You touched along his face and down his chest, eager fingers tugging and pushing at the shirt he wore. You needed him now. 

There were moments when you both liked to take your time, each unwrapping the other like a precious gift, fully savoring the anticipation. Then there were times when it was impatient and needy, as if you couldn't get him inside of you fast enough. Simply a blur of hands until you were both naked without the pesky barriers of clothes getting in the way of your desires.

One guess as to which side you were both currently feeling. 

As your clothes were stripped away, flimsy lace being tossed aside, you further crawled on top of him. Knees pressed down onto either side of his hips, your nails scratching along his inked chest before firmly grasping his broad shoulders. The kiss you shared had yet to cease, both of you kissing the other with a desperate need; sweeping tongues and clashing of teeth. 

Noah released your hips to cup your breasts within his large hands, thumbs skimming and circling your sensitive nipples to pull a faint whimper from you. Chills formed over your heated skin, your teeth roughly sinking into his lower lip that caused him to hiss and pinch your nipples in return. 

“Behave,” he lowly threatened while you could only pout in response. 

Both hands then fell from your chest; one dropped to begin pushing his last article of clothing down as the other gripped tight into your hair. Noah roughly yanked your head to the side to further expose your neck, his lips immediately kissing a hot trail to your jaw. He knew exactly what teasing your neck did to you, arousal pooling between your thighs as you needily whimpered for him. 

“And you thought you'd be able to stay away.” 

You wanted to knee him right in the side for the petty comment, but he was already adjusting your position and tugging you higher up on his hips so you could hover above his hard cock. 

Noah smirked against your skin, his tongue flicking at the sensitive spot right below your ear. The moment his teeth nipped at the same spot he pushed your hips down so the wide swollen head of his cock could force through your tight entrance. You gasped and he groaned in unison, his own muscles straining from the vice grip your cunt already had on him. 

“I can stay away,” you countered. “I just didn't want to.”

The devilish gleam returned to his eyes while gazing up at you, knowing that deep down you also knew you couldn't stay away. It didn't matter what your stubborn protest said. 

Releasing your hair, both of Noah’s hands held tight to your hips. You were still trying to adjust to his size, slowly easing yourself down another inch, but he was clearly much more impatient than you were. This was proven when he forced your hips all the way down until they sat flush against his, the entirety of his cock tunneling through your pussy. Of course how wet you were helped, but nothing could ease the tight stretch. 

Your head tossed back as you released a loud moan, all other thoughts leaving your mind except for those of him. Sharp nails dug so deep into his chest that you swore you would draw blood - not that Noah would care. 

“Good girl,” the Dark Lord rasped. 

His impatience didn't end there. Although he wanted to be kind and let you find your bearings, there was truly no need when he was well aware that you liked things just as he did: rough, animalistic, whatever you wanted to call it. 

Keeping you steady atop him, his hips thrusted up from the bed in rapid succession, angling just right to make sure your body quivered and your cries of pleasure never ceased. Noah loved watching you come undone for him, loved seeing your stubbornness overtaken by your pure need for the sensations that only he could give you. Everything about it, from the sounds you made to the way your face contorted in pleasure, was addicting. 

You could barely contain yourself as he continued to drive his throbbing cock straight up into you. Your pussy fluttered, more and more of your arousal slipping free until it ran down his length and helped aid in his endeavors to completely ruin you. Noah knew that you were already close, he could tell by the way your moans became more frequent and heightened in pitch. 

“That's it,” he grunted as his hands tightened around your waist and he forced you down to roughly meet the upward thrusts of his hips. “Let go.”

As if on command, your body seized and your back arched. An orgasm ripped through you, claiming full control as you trembled and your hips jerked, the pleasure so intense that you couldn't even make a sound. 

Noah had no intentions of stopping, though. He settled down against the bed, still buried as deep as possible within the warmth of your climaxing cunt. His grip fell from your waist to your hips, now guiding you in a back and forth grind to keep you overstimulated and whimpering for him. 

“You're so fucking beautiful when you cum for me.” 

In a swift motion he had you on your back, the papers from his work crunching beneath you, some digging into your skin but it was of no concern to you right then. You were basking in the high of your orgasm, well aware that there was more to come. Noah never stopped at just one. He had to bring you as close to breaking as he possibly could before he was satisfied. Sometimes that could be done in as little as two rounds and sometimes you were at it for hours until you had lost count of your orgasms and forming any sort of coherent thought was impossible. 

Not daring to pull out from your warmth, Noah brought one of your legs over so your lower half twisted for him, leaving you open and vulnerable but still capable of seeing each other. You quivered as you felt the thick rigid veins that lined his cock throb when they shifted within you, every inch of you sensitive from the orgasm you were still coming down from. 

Noah had a hold of your ass in one hand and your thigh in the other to make sure you remained right where he wanted you as he slowly pulled out until just the head of his cock remained. Then, he used every bit of strength he had to thrust right back into you, the pace being set slow but impossibly hard. Your jaw clenched and your toes curled, your body barely able to handle what Noah presented to you. 

You shook your head, squeaks and whimpers of words unsaid escaping from your throat. He knew what he was doing to you, though. He knew exactly what angles to fuck you from that would leave you dumb - for lack of a better term. 

“Is it too much for you, my love?” He taunted, a mock sympathetic tone to his voice. 

To show that he didn't care, he only picked up his speed, the driving force behind his hips remaining relentless. The harsh slap as your bodies collided sounded through the room, followed by a piercing smack when his strong hand came down upon your ass cheek, mixing with your symphony of moans. Your walls ached and burned but you didn't dare request he stop, not even for a moment, though you didn't truly want him to. You loved when he would get like this, a sort of sadistic gleam flaring in his dark eyes despite trying to pleasure you to the best of his abilities. 

“Touch yourself.” 

The demand made you whine under your breath. Noah knew what he was doing. You managed to slip your hand down between your clamped thighs, a fingertip brushing the swollen nerves ever so softly, but it was enough to make your body twitch and your cunt clamp tighter around his cock. His brows pulled together, the hold he had on you tightening. 

It was too much. Your body was so sensitive, and touching your clit was that mixture of pleasure and pain that made your abdomen muscles tense and your hips writhe. 

“I didn't say to stop,” Noah hissed through gritted teeth. How he had known you paused your fingers over your clit, you weren't sure, but you quickly obeyed his demand again. 

“N-Noah…” you whimpered, tears brimming your eyes and threatening to spill over. You looked up at him through your watery vision, though you were still able to make out the smirk he wore upon his flushed cheeks. Not even the damp strands of dark hair could cover that look in his eyes as he gazed down at you, enamored with all that you were. 

“Uh uh,” he shook his head. “If you stop, then so do I.” 

Fuck. That was the last thing you wanted. It may have been too much and overwhelming but you were desperate to cum again. Not only that, but you needed to feel him filling you as well. You needed his cum seeping out of you, warming you from the inside out. Breathing a life into you that was ironic for Death. 

His grip remained tight on your thigh though his other hand slithered up to knead at your breast, his fingers digging into your flesh, pinching and tugging your nipple. You were getting close again, so so close. As your own fingers continued to rub your clit, each stroke sending electric shocks through you, you released moan after moan, crying out his name in pleasure. 

“Next time we should place a bet on how long you can go without my dick,” he spoke through his own groans, the strain evident in his voice. 

Noah released your breast and instead secured his long tattooed fingers around your throat. His grip was tight, a silent reminder that he could easily crush your airways if he ever had the desire to do so. Which he didn't - he would never lay a hand on you in ways you didn't beg for - but the danger of it, the possibility, radiated down to your core and helped build your oncoming climax. 

“I know you're constantly needy for it. I can smell your arousal when I'm near, so sweet and intoxicating…” 

His voice was raw and deep, each word sending you closer to the edge. Every touch to your body felt like a flame licking your skin, tears still welling in your eyes, your cunt desperate for both your release and his. 

“Please…” you begged in a breathless whisper as your fingers circled your clit in a messy rhythm, unable to get pace with his brutal pounding. 

Noah’s lips twitched within his lingering smirk when your pleas met his ears, the sound causing his cock to twitch and his hips to snap in a quick succession into you. 

A single nod was given, allowing you the gift of an orgasm, and also letting you know that even he couldn't find his words anymore. He was far too focused on the tight grip of your pussy that was swallowing him deeper, almost like he could hear it begging for his cum. If that didn't feed his already oversized ego, then nothing would. 

The pressure built until you couldn't stand it anymore. Your fingers and toes tingled, a white hot heat exploding throughout the entirety of your body as you were overcome with your orgasm. Sharp nails raked down his forearm, skin breaking in their path and sullying the tattoos, though you knew it would heal rapidly. Your cunt erupted in a rush that soaked the sheets and also managed to push Noah right over the edge with you. Typically he had better control, but sometimes it was even too much for him. 

“Fuck…you're so good at taking it, you always are.” 

A final thrust had him emptying inside of you, feeding you that particular warmth you had been desperate for. You hummed in delight, your eyes heavy lidded but focused solely up on him so you could witness his undoing. Noah’s eyes closed and brows furrowed, his jaw falling slack as your name was groaned from him once, twice, three times. You could feel his muscular thighs trembling and you just knew he was trying his best not to collapse on you from the power of his orgasm and also the workout he had just put himself through. 

Neither of you had fully calmed before he was leaning down and forcing his lips to yours. He held firm to your chin for the duration of the hungry kiss, though it didn't last nearly as long as you would have preferred. 

Breaking from the kiss, Noah sat back up so he could slowly withdraw from your depths. He groaned at the sight of your mixed finishes dripping free, only to gently slide two fingers into your pussy with the gathered cum so you didn't lose a drop. You whimpered at the feeling, legs now spread in front of him and knees shaking. 

“Noah,” you murmured in a faint whine. “I can't.” 

Your protest didn't stop his fingers from slowly working their way in and out of your sore pussy, the strokes gentle but still overwhelming. 

“I know, my love, I just wanted to see those tears again.” 

And tears you had - a couple of stray drops falling down your cheeks, mixing with the sweat that you both exuded. 

Only when he was satisfied did he remove his fingers, just to bring them to your awaiting lips. As if on instinct you pulled them into your mouth, cheeks hollowing and tongue swirling around his inked digits to clean his cum and yourself from them. 

“Good girl.” 

Thankfully, Noah let you rest. He easily could've gone again and again but he knew you were merely a mortal (undead or not) and he didn't want the fine line between pleasure and strictly pain to be crossed. Experiencing both was one thing, something you both enjoyed and gave consent to, but forcing you to entertain only the latter for his own selfish needs was not desirable to him. 

You drifted in and out of restful sleep as you curled into Noah’s side. Your head rested upon his chest, legs tangled, his strong arm encompassing you and keeping you close. The featherlight touch of his fingertips trailing up and down your arm brought goosebumps forward, though the loving affection had you luling to sleep again. That is, until he spoke what had been plaguing his mind. 

“They're going to come for you,” he murmured, a sadness in his voice. “The Light Ones.” 

A slight sound escaped you, your head slowly shaking. Your own arm circled around his bare torso, now hugging yourself even closer to his form. Even though he was Death, something everyone feared, he had always brought a sense of peace over you. 

“Why do you let them?” 

In the past Noah had protested when they'd come for you; he would yell and threaten and make them force you away from him if they were going to take you. Never did he truly fight, though. 

A deep inhale caused your head to drift up, and then slowly back down when he exhaled. You knew he was trying to find how to word his response in a way you would understand, or at least so he wouldn’t inadvertently offend you. 

“Because at least then I know I'll see you again. If I fight, go to war for you, the Light Ones could end your bloodline completely.” 

“As in…”

“You would cease to exist. No other versions. No rebirths. I'd only have my memories of you to keep me going for the rest of eternity.” 

All of that for one lousy human? That was the main thing that had always confused you. You didn't understand why you being with Noah was so frowned upon. Why they wanted to make him suffer. Why they were determined to keep you apart. What sort of threat did his happiness pose? 

“It's not 'normal’ for us to love because it's not what we were created for, especially not me. The Light Ones claim to have love for all, whereas I'm supposed to be the other side of the coin - the hate.” Noah took in another deep breath as if explaining it all to you physically pained him. Having to admit what his purpose was…it brought him hurt, and in turn, that hurt you. 

“So for me to love, and to place all that love in one person, it makes me…” he paused and his arm around you tightened. 

“It makes us dangerous.” 

This is when you tilted your head up to look at him. Your eyes met and you offered a gentle smile, one to show him that you understood, but that didn't mean you had to accept it. You wouldn't. Not anymore. 

“I'm tired of only being able to see you in death,” you softly spoke. Your fingertips grazed slowly along the underside of his jaw and then down the curve of his neck, your gaze following the trail. When you got to the snake you paused, your nail lightly tracing the outline. “I want to fight.” 

Noah shook his head and soon his hand clasped around your own, your fingers intertwining together. “I won't risk losing you forever. I can't.” 

“And I will,” you challenged, your voice stern. “What you do here in your realm should be none of their concern. You're the fucking King, remember? Or have you already forgotten yelling that at me millenia ago?” 

The faintest of smirks tugged at the corners of his lips - of course he remembered. Noah remembered every minute, every second, that he has ever spent with you. Nothing could take those memories from him. 

“We'll discuss this further in the morning, after you've slept and had some breakfast.” 

With that, Noah blew the candle out on the conversation. The dark now surrounded you both, only the twinkling of the stars he had summoned able to be seen on the ceiling above. 

[apocalypseornaw]

Real or Not (Pt 2/5)

Dean Winchester x Female Reader

Just as you're beginning to feel like you overreacted the biggest challenge yet gets thrown your way

@lacilou s idea

You sang lightly along with your Playlist, Kaleo cranking through the Bluetooth speaker you'd hooked your phone up to as you worked through the stack of lore books the boys had stored in the small room just outside of the "dungeon" as they called it. They'd gone on a supply run into town and despite Dean asking you to tag along you'd chosen to instead stay behind at the bunker.

A couple weeks had passed since that day you'd overheard him and Sam talking about Camila. You'd been more careful of announcing your presence coming into rooms hoping to not walk into the middle of any more reminiscing. A part of you hoped Dean hadn't noticed any change in you while another part of you was nearly desperate for him to notice, to soothe your worries.

You let out a louder sigh than you'd meant to, noticing the legal pad in front of you was still blank despite the fact that you'd come in here with intentions to gather more information for the hunters journals you and Sam had been compiling to make assisting other hunters easier. "That thing say something bad to you? Cause I'll kick its ass" your eyes flew up to where Dean was now leaned against the doorframe watching you.

A small smile slipped onto your face "How long you been there?" He shrugged "Long enough to see that you looked like someone kicked a black kitten in front of you" you tried to look genuine when you said "Nothings wrong Dean" he nodded slowly "You sure?" "Of course" he smiled before walking closer, leaning down to press a quick kiss to your lips he tapped his knuckles against the legal pad before playfully saying "You hurt my girl's feelings again I'll set your ass on fire" you laughed despite yourself. Why were you worried when here he was threatening an inanimate object for you?

Yet again you found those three little words warming your lips begging for escape and yet again you choked them back down denying them the freedom to be released into the world. You did love Dean, you were in love with him but you wouldn't say it first. Take away the doubts lingering in your mind you knew him well enough to know the man didn't commit often, you were one of few lasting relationships and wasn't about to say it first just to freak him out.

You realized you were staring at him and felt the tips of your ears warm. Why you weren't sure considering you shared a bed with him and had for a while now. A smirk slipped onto his face before he said "Don't be shy sweetheart. You can feel free to check me out whenever you want, I'm all yours" your head flipped in your chest.

"I just fed your ego even more didn't i?" You teased and shrugged "Maybe just a little" you laughed and shook your head before pushing back from the table and grabbed his hand "Cmon I need a break. I'll help you and Sam put everything away"

You were beginning to think you'd simply over reacted to the mention of Camila. You had a few exes that you ended on good enough terms with that you still spoke to them occasionally and would back them up if need be on a hunt. While it was true none of them came near holding a candle to Dean you had cared about a couple of them.

--------------

You hissed lightly when Sam touched the ragged slice across your arm. Fucking ghouls, you hated the little scavengers. "Easy Y/N" he comforted, the antiseptic cold as he applied it to your wound.

Dean looked up from across the room, the slice across his cheek somehow added to his looks. It wasn't fair he always looked amazing, even when he was bloody "Sweetheart I haven't seen someone take down ghouls that fast in a while" you grinned slightly "Coming from one of you two I'll take that as a compliment"

----------------

Once Sam was through throwing a couple stitches in your arm he placed a bandage over it and smiled over your shoulder at you "all patched up" you nodded "Thanks Sam" He wished you and Dean goodnight then headed for the door that connected the two motel rooms you'd gotten.

-------------

Normally the three of you would just drive back to the bunker but considering you'd had to make the drive down to New Orleans to help a coven with their ghoul problem it had been a unanimous decision to crash halfway back for the night.

When you suggested just getting one room Sam had shook his head "No, I am not risking waking up to the sight of you and Dean being handsy with each other" you had ducked your head from embarrassment but Dean had simply shrugged "She's gorgeous, what can I say?"

--------------

Once the door shut behind Sam, Dean raised an eyebrow at you "What's that look about dee?" You asked and he shrugged "Just thinking you'd be a lot more comfortable out of those jeans"

You felt a smirk slip onto your face "Oh really?" You held his eyes as you unzipped your jeans and pulled them down your legs, kicking them behind you. A smile worked across his face as he took a step towards you "Now let's get you out of that shirt and bra"

You laughed as he reached for the hem of you shirt "So I'd be more comfortable naked?" He caught your lips in a hungry kiss before saying "Yeah, you would but don't worry I'm gonna get comfortable with you"

When you woke up Dean was curled up to your back, his warm breath hitting your neck with every slow exhale as he slept. Your arm wasn't that sore considering although some other body parts were after the night before. A warmth spread through your stomach and lower at the memory of Dean's lips on your body, the way his hips had rolled into yours both of you clinging to each other, a solid chorus of moans mixed with the skin meeting had filled the room.

As if he could hear your thoughts Dean started to stir behind you, his lips finding your neck "What you thinking about?:" you smiled, leaning back into him "A gorgeous guy" he murmured against your skin "Lucky asshole" before his hands began to roam lower on your body.

--------------------

You'd just gotten out of the shower and was getting dressed when you heard Sam's voice in the other room talking to Dean. You caught a few words like "Gotta talk to Y/N"

You quickly got dressed and brushed your hair before heading into the main part of the motel room. Both Winchesters snatched their heads towards the sound of the door opening "What's wrong?" You asked and they exchanged a look "A hunter nearby called for an assist" Dean said matter of factly so you nodded "Ok, what's the case?"

They exchanged another look before Sam said "Thinking changling" you groaned inwardly, the last case had been horrible. "Let's get on it. Who is it?" With one final look exchanged between the boys Sam finally said "Camila"

@lacilou

@saranghaey

@stoneyggirl2

@marimarvelfan

@roseblue373

@suckitands33

@backtotheshitshow

@jackles010378

@badassbitch-21

@leigh70

@diagnosedpsychosis

[jesterwriting]

JESTERRRR okay first. HI I HOPE YOU'RE HAVING A GOOD DAY!! I'm absolutely taken by the magnificence that is the damn timeloop trope and that HIT HOMEEE and your other works as just as wonderful omg!! goodness i love how you write 😭 i really wish to know more of your ideas soo PLEASE IF YOU HAVE MORE SHARE that's my request for you!! whichever character it is!! (ofc do it at your own pace if u decide to take it :) ) i have some too and omg i feel like spewing them all out is it okay if i do 😭😭

what if you were an angel drabbles

pairing: shanks x reader & law x reader (separate)

contents: can be read as platonic, angel!reader, slight body horror especially in law’s, your body is Wrong, if you squint you’ll see nonhuman character as a metaphor for autism in here, angel lore that i made up on a whim don’t think too hard about it

word count: 1.8k words

note: first off feel absolutely free to come into my inbox and spew ideas!!! i'd love to hear it and you're always welcome <33 secondly, i would literally never post something like this normally, but because you asked for more of my ideas, here it is! something squished out from the creative recesses of my mind.

playlist: man on the moon - zella day

Curiosity killed the cat, but satisfaction brought it back. That was your motto. Even in your younger years, questions poured from your tongue like honey, coloring your world in rich, vibrant hues rather than suffocating shades of gray. You could speak for hours, annoying your instructors at the academy with your incessant questions.

It would be better if you learned to hold your tongue, they'd say.

How would I sate your hunger if I were silent, you would shoot back.

It would be easier if you could join the humans; ask them your questions face to face. Why couldn’t you walk among them? Such things were not forbidden, though they were rather frowned upon. As an angel, you were meant to observe, not intervene. If anyone were to be sent to the surface of a world, it would certainly not be an angel who couldn’t keep their mouth shut. Since time immemorial, your kind had lived in secret, housed in the spaces between stardust.

You would not be the one to ruin that.

That was what you promised yourself as you packed your bags and snuck out into the night. You could do both, get your answers and keep your secrets. For once, you wanted to live. Smile like a human, laugh like a human, love like a human. All of it was at your fingertips, the only thing you had to do was reach out and grab it. So, you did. You sent yourself spiraling to the surface of a beautiful blue pearl, a planet that was more water than land. This was where you would make your home.

For the first time in your centuries of life, you felt happy. The people of the island you found welcomed you with open arms, embracing your oddities instead of pretending they would go away. You were eccentric, both wise beyond your years and hopelessly naive. Fruits that were common were treated like precious jewels in your hands, work that no one wanted to do, you met with enthusiasm despite your clumsy hands. You told the children stories of faraway worlds, who would then parrot your truths to their parents. It was no secret that there was something off about you, but you were loved, and most importantly, you were free.

Though you were happy, your curiosity could not be sated. You wanted more. To see the world and all it had to offer. When a pirate ship appeared on the horizon, you asked the captain if you could join them on their adventures.

The villagers were sure to give you glowing reviews, you said with a broad grin.

Thus began your life at sea. In closer quarters, it was harder to keep your secrets. Your wings itched beneath your skin, feathers tickling your spine, begging to be set free. When asked of your hometown, you could only dodge the question with a laugh for so long. It wasn’t as if you could tell them the truth: that you fell from the stars like a meteor, never to return home again. You had created a niche in the crew, you would hate to be run off so soon.

Now, you were certain that this was the end of all you had built.

It had been a mistake. A simple one. An avoidable one. You were alone with him when his foot slipped, and you were alone when you dove after him, white wings unfurling to catch him. You were stronger than the average human, easily carrying his weight as you glided to the bottom of the ravine.

This was never meant to happen. Not in a million years, ever. There were rules in place to keep such situations under control, and you, somehow, managed to break every single one within seconds. Your wings ached from being confined within your vessel for so long, and though you longed to stretch them, you were well aware of the pair of eyes that studied your inhuman form.

“What are you?” His voice was soft, barely audible on the wind.

With a slick noise, your wings slotted themself back against your spine, gone as if they were never there in the first place. It felt better to have them back under your skin. Safer, especially under his scrutiny. With a deep breath, tongue gliding over your sharp incisors for comfort, you wondered if there was any way to salvage this.

Red Haired Shanks

Before you could start explaining yourself, Shanks cut you off, his expression morphing into a broad grin. “You can fly? You can fly and you never told me? I should be mad about that, you know.”

“Sorry.” You weren’t sure what else to say. Whatever you expected from your captain, it wasn’t this. Betrayal, maybe, but not excitement. Your stomach churned at the thought of what they were saying about you back home. It was no secret that they were watching you, you were not the first angel to fall from grace, nor would you be the last. Your fingers found the hem of your shirt and began to fidget. “No one was supposed to know.”

Shanks took a step closer to you, breathing heavily. Adrenaline, perhaps. He did just glide thirty meters off the edge of a cliff within the arms of a previously wingless crewmate. Besides, you couldn’t fault him too much, your heart was thundering inside your chest too, both from fear and exhilaration. You had forgotten how wonderful it felt to fly. A part of you couldn’t wait until you could do it again.

“Don’t be,” He said. The wind had swept his hair from his forehead, causing it to stick up at odd angles. You fought the urge to flatten it back against his head. “You saved me from losing a leg, at least.”

You cocked your head to the side, large eyes blinking owlishly at him. “You’re not mad. You should be mad. I’m a liar, and I can never tell you the truth.”

Shanks laughed. You liked his laugh. “Who cares about that? You save me and then expect me to be mad. You really are odd.” Craning his head to look above you, he put his hand on his hip when he caught sight of the edge he stumbled off. “Do you think you can get us back up there?”

If you were odd, Shanks was odder. That was his only question. You grew wings out of nowhere, and all he wanted to know was if you could fly him back up to the top of the ravine. Was it really that simple? You shivered, remembering the first words that left his mouth.

“What are you?”

You didn’t get to answer him. Maybe you never would. With your captain held in your arms, his head against your chest as he whooped against the wind, you wondered if the price of getting to keep your secrets would be simple. You had a feeling that this was not the first flight that Shanks would ask to be taken on, and certainly not his last.

Trafalgar Law

Law stared you down, lips pressed into a thin line.

Your wings fluttered against your spine, wanting to fly you away from this conversation to somewhere you would never be seen again. You were fast, easily able to outrun the Polar Tang even without your headstart. Still, if you left Law at the bottom of a ravine, you would never forgive yourself.

“Um,” You started.

Law crossed his arms. “And don’t you try and tell me you’re human. I’ve known for a long time you’re not.” He glanced down at your hands, palm too wide, fingers too long. “Your bones are in the wrong place.”

It was no secret that you were built… different, with limbs that were too long, disproportionate to the rest of your body, and eyes that reflected light, glowing when the sun dipped under the horizon and stars blanketed the velvet sky. If you weren’t careful, both your elbows and knees bent backwards. It had scared Shachi and Penguin more than once, their screams that you were broken echoing through the Polar Tang. You hadn’t meant to build your body so strangely. In your defense, you had never met a human before until a few months ago.

“My bones are all wrong? But I worked so hard on this body.”

To his credit, Law’s confusion at your strange statement was betrayed by a barely noticeable blink. “You need anatomy lessons if you think that’s passable enough to fool anyone.”

“You should be happy with what I look like. If I showed you my true form, your eyes would melt out of your skull,” You said.

Law scoffed. “I doubt that.”

You bit your tongue to keep from arguing. The only way your captain would believe you was if you tore free from your vessel and bestowed upon him your true holy splendor. Which you would rather not do. Not only did you not want to blind him, but the entire situation would be rather intimate. Angel’s did not show their true forms on a mere whim, and they definitely did not do so to win a petty argument.

“Alright.” The two of you stood in silence. Law was still while you kicked a rock with the toe of your boot. “If you must know, I am an angel.”

You could practically hear them booing back home.

Law was quick with his response, “Angels don’t exist. If you’re going to lie, at least make it believable.”

“Sorry.”

Sighing, Law approached and gave you a stern look out of the corner of his eye. He stood so close, you could feel his body heat. “If you don’t want to tell me the truth, then don’t. All I need to know is how to properly treat you when you get sick or injured.”

Despite his assurances, you could see the curiosity burning in his golden eyes, and you knew the conversation was far from over. With a shrug, you unfurled your wings, grabbing a hold of Law as you launched yourself to the top of the ravine with a single push. Surprise caused him to struggle in your arms, though you kept your grip on him firm.

You didn’t care how stubborn Law was, nor did you care about the inevitable onslaught of questions that awaited you back on the Polar Tang.

If there was one thing you respected, it was curiosity.

[vermillioncourt-if]

Hi! I hope you're doing well I 'm super excited for your IF all the lore you've given has been mmm wonderful! I was wondering if you'd mind doing the classic: MC dies in RO's arms (preferably as the result of saving the RO). scenario ask?

If that's to angsty I understand and no matter what I wish you all the best! ♥

Hello! ❤️

I'd be happy to write this! Angst (and smut) are my specialities. There really isn't anything too angsty for me! Although I fear this might be TOO angsty for some! People who are part of my other blog/IF will attest, though, I enjoy ripping hearts out and stomping on them! 😊

I also added on the Aftermath since I couldn't help myself! 🤭 I feel I may have girlbossed too close to sun, cause these ROs are VERY codependent on MC and it shows!

Please heed the TWs!

General TW: lots of death, deaths of 3 ROs, death mentions, dying, trauma, blood, heavy angst

RO Death TWs: Suicide Implied, Childbirth Implied, Murder Implied

MC Dies in ROs Arms After Saving/Protecting Them (and the Aftermath)

Si Huaiqiao - Huaiqiao will be so devastated and will blame himself. He's your personal guard, he should've never even gotten himself into that situation in the first place! He'll try not to cry and will hold you in his arms until you do die. He won't try to staunch your bleeding. He knows what death looks like and it's on you. It will be a bit of a struggle to free your corpse from his grip. He won't be the same after. He'll retire from being a guard and go back home. Depending on how serious it was of a misstep, he would feel so ashamed of how it turned out, he'll just waste away, really. He's... not quite long for the world without you in it.

Xu Chanyu - Chanyu will be in disbelief. She can't believe that happened. You're so stupid! She's an assassin and could handle herself! She'll try to staunch your wounds, yelling at you to stay awake. She's trying to act strong, but her hands are shaking as she tries to apply pressure. She'll beg you to not go, but it's futile. Your body is found a little later, but she's not there. After you die, she disappears. Your friends and family will look for her, but she's nowhere to be found. Years later, a rumor would surface of a small old storyteller woman who lives alone in a tiny shack in the forest. If you pay her price, she'll tell a story of how a generous royal saved a street orphan's life.

You Kounao - Kounao would be horrified. He'd loudly scream and cry. He's panicking, really. He's clumsy as he tries to apply pressure to the wound. He can barely even hold the makeshift cloth/bandage to the wound. He doesn't know what to do, so he just holds you and talks to you. His voice is wavering and hiccuping, but he pushes through. About your wedding, how excited his family will be to meet you, how beautiful his kingdom is during the spring. He doesn't really realize you're gone until someone pries him out of his arms. Afterwards, he goes back to the Chuntian Kingdom, but it all feels wrong. He doesn't talk as much and he just goes through the motions. His family ends up sending him to a monastery to become a monk. It helps, only slightly.

Shen Sandong - Sandong would be mortified and frozen. She'd watch you collapse onto the ground and stand there. It takes her a minute to gather herself and run to you, cradling you in her arms. She tries to stop the bleeding, but at this point you have nothing left to lose. She doesn't say anything, but you know from her face that she is devastated. She barely emotes as is but the last thing you see is her attempting a wobbly smile. You feel proud for her. After your death, she goes home. She's always been solitary and quiet, so no one around her really cares or notices. She goes on with her life and marries a noble, like her family wants, and it takes her a while to conceive a child. She's happy when she does and enjoys telling it about your adventures together. At the end, she thinks she shouldn't be this happy bleeding out as chaos surrounds her, but she can't help herself. She gets to see you again after all this time. She's been practicing her smile since you last saw it. She can't wait to show you.

Wei Duqiong - Duqiong will let his mask slip this one time. He gathers you in his arms and tries to find a doctor or a healer or anything, but sees it's useless and he's losing precious time with you. He sits on the ground and hold you in his arms and tells you all of the things he wishes he did, if he wasn't like this. He wants to show you off to everyone he knows, hold your hand on walks, kiss under fireworks at festivals. He begs you to hold on, but you both know you can't. He then curses himself for letting you in. If he pushed you away and never entertained you, you wouldn't be dying in his arms, would you? Afterwards, he doubles down on his mask. He doesn't do small talk with customers anymore. He doesn't let anyone as close to him as you were. He ends up incredibly prosperous, his business now more efficient than ever, but the growing mountains of gold can't bring you back. They laugh in his face about what he lost, a sore reminder of what could have been but never will be.

Wu Nahou - Nahou is numb. She catches you before you go down. She frowns and tries to staunch the bleeding, lecturing you about how stupid that was. She gets angrier, yelling for help as loud as she can, as you ebb away. At who? You can't tell. She tells you to keep your eyes open and stay awake. But you can't. She stays by your side until someone arrives to collect your body. Afterwards, she takes a hot bath and scrubs until she's raw, just to feel something. Anything. After your death, she becomes a loose cannon. She drinks heavily and picks fights. She takes on physical courtesan work, but is kicked out eventually. No one wants to hire a drunk mouthy courtesan. Nothing she does quite reignites her spark. She thinks dying in an alleyway is fitting, considering how far she's fallen. She didn't expect to die the same way as you either, bleeding out. She wonders what you'll think of her, when you see her like this. She's not sure she'd be able to handle it. She asks to be sent somewhere else. She can't bear to face you again.

[amngtheflowers]

Hello, I would like to address some things recently that have bothered me:

Please don't ask me for art requests. Unless I ask for suggestions on what to draw, normally no, I won't do it. Even if you don't necessarily have ill intent/aren't forceful about it and ask nicely, it's rude and unbecoming for a stranger to go around begging random artists for free artwork. You either learn to commission others for their hard work, or learn to put the pencil in your hands.

I don't allow usage of my artwork on profiles, even with credit. You're fine to use them as desktop backgrounds, etc - places that don't involve printing them out or reuploading them. It makes me deeply uncomfortable to see my artwork being used to 'identify' one's self on SNS if that makes sense, of course there are exceptions: Like if I drew certain artwork for them, and I'm aware I can't entirely prevent this as long as my artwork is on the internet, and as long as people simply don't care about my feelings, but to the ones that do have the capacity to understand: Please refrain from doing so. Also, credit should not be used as a free card for you to do what you want with others' intellectual property unless they gave you the ok - unauthorized use even with credit, is still unauthorized use.

This is more specific and might offend and upset people which I apologize for in advance but please do not make my Lucilius art about other characters and ships when they're not mentioned or necessarily being alluded to... and especially when there's no indication of me enjoying the ship on my blog at all. Please also don't say stuff along the vein of 'Lucilius wouldn't do this in canon but (compliments anyway as if it cancels out the previous unwarranted statement)' on my ship art. I find it rather rude and upsetting. I read my tags even when I don't seem to be reactive or responsive. I see this stuff. It's disheartening. It makes me feel bad. I should be allowed a space where I can freely be deluded and draw what I want even if it doesn't directly align with others' view of canon, if it upsets people, they have the necessary means to avoid and ignore my work. What I draw isn't intended to be an accurate representation of lore. That's why I refer to them as delusions or draw them under the premise of an alternative world where things have occurred differently. I recognize that the tags I saw also weren't carrying ill intent at all and perhaps thought they were being playful, but they still left a bad flavor in my mouth. There are just some comments better kept to oneself. And besides, there's already a lot of fanwork for other ships for you to enjoy out there.

That is all. Thank you for your love and kind words towards my drawings.

[sweetlikehoneystingslikeabee]

ok, loving the vampire au so much rn. obsessed with the world building and i love me some riddlers

but now i'm thinking,,, can we have jervises (jervi??) as vampires???

"Vampire Backgrounds" Mad Hatter Party

YEAAAAA LETS FUCKING GOOOOOO. Lol sorry these got long! I went into a lot more detail on backgrounds for these. Please feel free to ask if I left out something you wanted to know. Also please reference this post for base lore for the au!

Tw: Discussions of mental asylums, ableist and inhumane treatment of the mentally ill, fires, suicide, vampirism, blood, violence, animal dissection and brain experimentation

BTAS

- Mid 1800s around the actual release of The Adventures of Alice in Wonderland. His colleagues find it frivolous and ridiculous a man of his standing and intelligence should like a nonsense children's book.

- You see, Jervis Tetch is what would now be known as a neuroscientist. Unfortunately, it's several decades before several major discoveries in the field and certain... closed-minded beliefs are rampant. He insists phrenology is a fad that will pass as the Humours have in medical treatment. He was right, but it wasn't a popular opinion.

- He finds himself disappearing into that whimsical world as he dissects animals to study the nervous system. Ah, yes, Alice and the Mad Hatter... tea parties and unbirthdays and...

- Jervis holds a lecture on brain dissection and anatomy. He theorizes that it may even be possible to control the movements of other people if certain parts of the nervous system could be isolated- once they figure out what effects what, of course. That's when he meets... her. She introduces herself as Alice. Dark blue eyes and straw blonde hair. A wisdom that he couldn't place. And she wanted to talk to HIM of all people after the lecture!

- It isn't long until she shows her true nature. Alice is a centuries old vampire and she's chosen Jervis with all his intelligence to be her mate. She believes he will give eternal life meaning with his research.

- You see, Alice believes humans are lower beings, a feeling Jervis does not share. She thinks humans should all be controlled, rather like cattle. But, quite frankly, Jervis becomes so enamored with her, particularly after the change... all red flags just look like flags when you're wearing rose-colored glasses.

- ironically, his powers end up allowing him to control people's nervous system for a short duration of time. Together, the two of them drain several cities of blood. Him guiding victims into their hands and Alice trapping them in her weaving web.

- Essentially what happens is she tricks him into luring children to her because she believes "youthful, virgin" blood will sustain her better and increase her powers. "It's not like they matter if no one will miss them." When he sees her gorging herself on the wee babes until they only have droplets of blood left... he sees the horror of it.

- When she offers to turn the children so they can have a "family", it's the last straw. He realizes how much he's been manipulated over decades. He leaves her as shes begging him to stay.

- He continues his research on his own while fully indulging in his more whimsical interests. At one point or another he even took up sewing as well to help with that! He creates a device that magnifies the control he has over someone. There's a whole room of neurology textbooks he's kept track of over the years.

- Still obsessed with the idea of meeting the Alice to his Mad Hatter.

- When he feeds, he's actually a little clumsy because he has large fangs. In his world vampires are out and about. He wants to ask for direct consent for feeding as if its part of an obscure courting ritual. Usually drinks not fresh.

Powers: mind control/puppeteering (enhanced w/ technology), some shapeshifting (rabbit), invisibility.

Arkham

- A true mad hatter in the late 1700s. Unable to get an education to become a neuroscientist here, Jervis went to his second love: clothing and hat making. He had always been an eccentric fellow, but it had made his art flourish and popular. Then the shakes began. The vomiting, the loss of sensation in his fingers. Ever the hard worker, smoothing over pelts for felt, he would not seek treatment.

- The mercury poisoning just got worse, he became irritable and unpredictable in personality. His neighbors reported him as unwell- and he attempted to fight officers. Mr. Tetch was sent to a local overcrowded and understaffed asylum for the mentally ill.

- it was the "treatments" at the asylum that made his mind truly "break." Hours sitting in a freezing bath, isolation in straight jackets, bleeding, mistreatment/abuse by guards, forced sedation and feedings- With each one, his symptoms grew in severity. He began to babble in rhyme and at times acted feral. The only one to provide him true serenity was a night nurse named Alice.

- She was kind. She was sweet. If she had lived longer, she might have even served as a beacon for asylum reform. Alas, there was another patient she showed kindness to, one that spoke of vampirism and madness. He tore the poor girl's throat out. Jervis was turned on accident after attacking the vampire, spilling and mixing their blood.

- Staff attempted to experiment on the brains of both. His master died when the surgery did not work and they attempted daylight therapy. Jervis broke through his bonds with new strength and hunger, massacreing everyone in the room. An escape into the night.

- He would live in the abandoned building where his hattery once was, feeding on stragglers who passed him by. After some time, he found his voice very Suggestive to victims, merely having to look in their eyes and tell them to come to him. He would end up finding a copy of The Adventures of Alice in Wonderland on one of them. He proceeded to make that his entire personality.

- Years passed. The building would be demolished. He was forced to blend in with humans. Using the book, it serves as his blueprint on how to interact with the world.

- yes to this day. No the rhyming never stopped. Most people put him as being really eccentric, thankfully. Even when he talks about Alice and wanting to find them.

- Searching for his Alice has led him to Gotham. It's so difficult trying to find an Alice. So many naughty, wicked creatures posing as Alice. He'll just have to use them to satiate his hunger until he finds the real one...

- Tends to be a little more vicious with feeding. Unless he's actively trying not to hurt someone, it's usually a kill as he drinks deeply.

Powers: Not as strong as he could be because he was not nutured properly. Suggestion/hypnosis, vampire strength, he can float a couple inches off the ground.

Gotham

- technically the youngest- Late 1920s/early 1930s. Life is difficult, particularly when both your parents pass at a young age and you have a sickly younger sister. There was a little money left behind... but not enough to live.

- He runs a hypnosis and magic show to try and make a living for them both. Because of natural talent and skill, he gains a moderate amount of popularity. One night after a show, he was turned by a devoted fan. Alice was allowed to be turned as well due to her illness progressing.

- Their master wasn't unkind, but had an odd sense of... morality. So many people suffering. Starving. Even children. Wouldn't it be better to ease their suffering? Between their hunting and Jervis's hypnosis, there was plenty of blood to go around. Easy enough to justify killing.

- Over the course of several years, Alice would become more and more disillusioned with being a vampire. She attempted to not feed for a while, only sustaining on rats and other small animals. It didn't take long until she became ravenous and killed someone because of her hunger. She came to hate her master and Jervis for turning her into a monster.

- Yet it would be her love for her brother that saved him the night she threw a lit oil lantern into their masters coffin. Jervis pulled them both out of the home when the flames began to spread. He reassured her they would be together forever.

- It was then Alice made an important decision.

- As the fire burned, Alice told her brother goodbye and walked back into the building. She didn't scream as the flames licked her nightgown and then her skin. She smiled and closed her eyes. Peace at last.

- Needless to say, that was all deeply traumatizing for him. He still vividly remembers the smell of her hair burning all this time later. The only thing he has left of hers that wasn't lost is a slightly singed, battered copy of The Adventures of Alice and Wonderland, their favorite. He remembers long distant afternoons where they'd pretend to be in that world when they were hungry and alone. All ash, now.

- He would return to his work, this time traveling with a carnival to avoid too much suspicion before he was already gone in the night.

- When his time went on too long, he'd simply change his name and move to a different group. It isn't until shows like that fell out of popular favor that he branches out on his own. Not allowing anyone too close to keep his secret. It's this isolation from a "normal" life that he realizes how dearly he misses company. His sister had always been with him from the moment she was born.

- Jervis would simply have to find a new Alice. Not his sister, no... a companion. Someone he would protect forever.

- Rather romantic when feeding. Soft kisses and a bite you barely feel. He's dangerous in that you won't know how much trouble you're in until it's too late.

Powers: while his hypnosis is a prior skill rather than a power, he gained the power of Telepathy which just made it that much stronger. Reading minds is a bit of a challenge but he can speak into someone's mind and hear their responses from great distances. Extrasensory perception, mild animal control (they act as familiars).

[nakitengoku]

Hi I see u reblog posts all the time with 'vex' and 'vance', who are they?

I'm so glad you asked! Buckle up, this'll be a long one.

In Short, Vex is my cyberpunk 2077 self-insert turned oc through Character Development and Quirks that I don't possess! You can find all the posted drawings I've done of him here, here and here, but I can give you a rough summary bc I love talking about him and he makes me ill <3 I've even made him his own Spotify Playlist

First off, Vex's original concept came a while ago when I had first watched Cyberpunk: Edgerunners. (Original designs below) I named this self insert Ghost and he was supposed to operate as a shady BD dealer

I wouldn't come back to this idea for a whole year, where a friend of mine who had been posting about the game convinced me to play. I decided to revamp Ghost, including his Name Change to Vex (to fit the theme of the main characters name starting with V). Through many back and forth a between me and my friend, and through playing the game, I had eventually fleshed out Vex.

Crash course in Vex Lore, due to rough circumstances and having no other options, he signed a contract with an upstart xbd (hyper-realistic 3d experiences plugged straight into your brain. Vex's specifically was in the pleasurable kind (he's a pornstar)) producer. For Nine year, Vex worked under this Producer, slowly becoming more and more of a hit star, especially among fanatics. But he wanted to be done with it and move on with his life, and lean into his side gig of being a Merc for hire. The producer, learning that Vex was gonna quit, begged him for once last recording. During which, the Producer tried to have Vex killed by the hands of his co-actor. Vex learns this in the middle of a scene and flips it around, instead Killing his co-actor and his producer.

He then hides the body, moves and tries to make a job for himself in Atlanta, but after nearly 2 years of miss after miss, he's forced to return to Night City, thus kicking off the start of the game!

Other than his backstory, he is part of the Worlds worst polycule composed of the Canon Characters, Kerry Eurodyne, River Ward and Johnny Silverhand, and the Non Canonical (though they're both canonical in my heart) Vex and Vance.

You may now be at the point of 'Phoenix, you've only been speaking about Vex, who the hell is Vance' Well, my dear beloved Mutual, Vance is @mail-me-a-snail's V! They're more inclined to talk about him and if you're really curious, they have an entire tag about him on their blog! Just know that I love Vance so strongly that Vex has to deal with it

(They've also recently posted one of their drawings of Vance and Vex and I'm over the moon about it)

There's also our mutual Bad Ending for Vance and Vex that you'll occasionally see me mention in Tags. That's the ending where Vex never escaped his Producer, instead continuing his work and becoming extremely popular and Vance never leaving Arasaka (a huge corporation). This ending is just for the two of them to rip each other apart in mutually assured destruction done out of love, commitment and understanding <3 (of which has its own Spotify playlist)

General rule of thumb is if you see a Vex with short hair and a blue collar, that's normal Vex. If you see him with long hair and he's missing his collar, That's the Bad End Vex.

That's it for Major Plot Points! He's a pretty kind and caring guy, but Hates Johnny's guts and will only refer to him as Silverhand (for multiple reasons). He's main weapon is a katana. He'll eat random food off the street bc of ingrained habits and won't think twice about how nasty that it. His preferred mode of transport is a motorbike bc he can't drive a car for shit. He's my sopping wet cat of an oc that I shake around like a limp piece of prey between my teeth.

Hope you enjoyed this rant about him! Thank you so much for asking ! (And feel free to keep asking, I love talking about him)

[ramblingdruid]

Fey'ri

Meet my absolute FAVORITE (official) d&d race: the Fey'ri

The Fey'ri are to elves as tieflings are to humans. Instead of an infernal heritage originating in the nine hells (or the inferno, depending on who you ask, they are the same thing), the bloodline of the Fey'ri originates in the Abyss.

For those of you who aren't obsessed with the Forgotten Realms like I am, there is a very distinct line between devils and demons. Devils reside in the hells, and demons reside in the abyss.

You can do your own research on the incredibly deep lore behind demons and devils and the war they experienced against each other, but to be brief, devils are from the nine hells of Baator, the plane of lawful evil, and demons are from the abyss, the plane of chaotic evil.

Devils are Tyrants with a strict class divide, and Demons are Anarchists who care about nothing but destruction and chaos.

Tieflings are descended from devils, and Fey'ri are descended from demons. Fun!

Sadly, Fey'ri aren't officially a part of D&D 5e, and I don't want to put that much work into it... at least not today. But I did write a short thing about them and made some abilities! :)

Sel'Aryshal drifted through the sanctum of the Seldarine, the elven pantheon, with her sword in hand - a birthright given to her by her father, a cleric of Angharradh. Upon her birth, Sel'Aryshal has been marked as different, seen as an abomination among her people. She was born with a barbed tail, and a forked tongue. When she turned 20, two horns began poking out of her hair, giving her peers a front-and-center view of her greatest shame.

Sel'Aryshal's mother passed in childbirth (Which her father viewed as another sign that she was worthless). She had spent her life before meeting her husband studying the hells of Baator and the Abyss. Her parents told her she was too curious for her own good, and she learned that the hard way. After accidentally summoning a demon, Sel'Aryshal's mother made a pact- spare her life, in exchange for her firstborn child's. When Sel'Aryshal was born, the demon appeared before her mother, ready to take his end of the bargain. She begged for her child's life, and ended up offering her own. A soul is a soul in a demon's eyes, so he accepted. Her soul was corrupted by the tendrils of the abyss, however, so her child was cursed with a demonic bloodline.

Sel'Aryshal dropped her sword at the base of the altar of the elven pantheon, giving up on her promise to her father. She had promised to prove herself to be a part of their civilization, a part of their religion, in order to be accepted by her peers and her own father. She hated every second of it. She hated hiding her tail, her horns. She hated refusing to speak to hide the fork in her tongue. She hated straightening and coloring her hair with her father's magic to hide her heritage. She was tired of feeling ashamed of the cards she was dealt at her birth.

Her father never knew of her mother's pact, but the demon had appeared to Sel'Aryshal in a dream, in an odd act of compassion, explaining to her why she was born the way she was.

Years later, she wanted to finally make her life her own. She was tired of hating herself, so she laid the ceremonial blade at the altar, and turned her back on the religion her father pushed onto her. Magic flowed through her veins, finally freeing her from hiding. The magical dye in her hair faded to black, and her skin shifted from white to gray. The illusion hiding her horns vanished, and her tail unfurled behind her. Sel'Aryshal was no longer just another high-elf.

Sel'Aryshal was the first Fey'ri to step foot in Faerûn in centuries.

Hope you enjoyed! I may make an elf with infernal heritage another time :)

[asmo-cosmetics]

i didn’t mean to send that yet and i was trying to say that virgin levi is a big thing in the fandom but i can’t imagine it as a reality.

like you can’t tell me he doesn’t have sex with mammon when they’re both bored or angry, that the twins haven’t tag teamed him in their room while he was begging for them, that asmo hasn’t ridden him until he was near knocked out.

virgin levi doesn’t work for me bc the other members of the house of lamentation are right there

asks that were designed in a lab specifically for me. there are layers to this anon take my hand

in one master, none of the brothers are virgins, but in the nightbringer timeline, there's an argument to be made that they all are, because

all angels are virgins. this is a headcanon of mine and reasonable people can disagree but let me explain to you why it's so fun

SHAME. GUILT. it's canon that angels in the om! universe can be tempted by and even driven to disobedience and sin. they are naturally pious, not naturally pure – but they seem to believe they're supposed to be naturally pure, e.g. asmo asking mc if they thought the brothers were supposed to be demons all along.

it's a whole cruel mess, basically. god is the main villain of the obey me universe and i'll die on that hill.

but the result is an entire race of beings that experience sexual maturity, but due to the way their society is structured, each individual believes it to be a unique experience happening to themself exclusively, and happening to them because they are morally weak.

they're not ignorant of the concept of sexuality, because they're the guardians of humans, and humans experience sexuality. but angels shouldn't. angels, as far as any angel knows, don't.

the purest/most naïve/most loyal angels (think raphael) might not even recognize it for what it is within themselves either out of denial. like. "my brothers and sisters are so beautiful and wonderful and have such stunning features and graceful bodies. i love them very much and i love serving our father together with them. i am having a completely pure and normal reaction to them interacting with me." etc.

THIS ALSO FITS WITH THE GAME LORE. THINK ABOUT IT. LILITH IS THE FIRST ANGEL THAT EVER HAD SEX, WHICH MEANT SHE HAD TO DIE, BECAUSE IF AN ANGEL AND A HUMAN WERE TO PROCREATE IT MIGHT RESULT IN A BEING THAT DISRUPTS THE POWER BALANCE BETWEEN THE THREE REALMS. OTHERWISE KNOWN AS GODDAMN MC. GOD KILLED HER AS AN EXAMPLE TO THE ANGELS NOT TO DIRECTLY INTERFERE WITH HUMANS BECAUSE HUMANS ARE HOW THEY KNOW ABOUT SEXUALITY AS A CONCEPT okay i'm done shouting but do you understand??

(thank you diavolo for saving our grandma. you also kind of fucked up the whole universe by doing that but it's okay i get it i'm down bad for lucifer too)

anyway back to the incest stuff

the brothers were not the type of angels mentioned above. like it's been noted in the game, they were never just siblings the way all angels are siblings. they were always close. always a family. so they all experienced the solipsistic torture of loving each other and wanting each other and being sure that these feelings exist in them because they are bad and dirty and wrong

and then they were demons, and they were... free

it would've taken them a while to deconstruct everything, though

in my head, the aftermath of the war is when they became super codependent trauma-bonded weirdos. satan too, though it takes him a little longer to admit it. they start needing a lot more physical touch with each other for reassurance (cries in all sleeping in one room is canon now) and are more affectionate than before with hugs/kisses, and then asmo's sin kicks in and, well, they feed beel. they let belphie sleep. they deal with satan's meltdowns, mammon's sticky fingers, lucifer's superiority complex. they help each other. that's what brothers do.

so there's my giant lore essay. now to what's actually in your ask

you are correct

and i don't get it either (i do get it it's because obey me fans are idiots who go "ewwww incest" despite all the canon incest)

but seriously i do get why the boys as virgins is fun and i guess i could see it in the context of the brothers all being super repressed and not wanting to admit their feelings for each other? but then again. asmo.

and i get the virgin levi thing because for one thing it's cute. and for another thing he canonically has a humiliation fetish

but like that still works with demoncest levi. in fact that works better with demoncest levi. he's never had sex with anyone except his brothers. that makes him even more of a creepy shut-in freak loser.

the other brothers (especially asmo and satan) would literally teach you how to degrade him best!! hello

it's so obvious to me like bye.

also all of your suggestions are so incredibly correct. levi begging for the twins' cocks in specific has... done something to me

i will raise you, however: them DPing him. i think he could take it. and it seems like something the twins would want to do.

as i've said before levi and mammon switch bc they're both subs but mammon is the only brother i think levi's a bossy bottom with. with lucifer and satan it's "please, sir" and with asmo it's "i need you, princess" and with beel and belphie it's "as rough as you want, you won't hurt me," but with mammon it's "i swear to our fucking father if you don't put your cock in me right now i'm gonna kill you" and "harder. now." and "jesus, belphie fucks me better in his sleep, if you're gonna be this lazy turn over so i can ride you"

while i do not personally subscribe to the levi has two cocks theory i do headcanon that he is like. incredibly hung.

levi asmo belphie biggest dicks in the family. no i do not take criticism

anyway asmo's a size queen and also loves throwing shade. perfect combo

but also levi feels safest telling asmo about kinks he saw in hentai wants to try out but is embarrassed of. the first time asmo choked him out it made him come so hard asmo made the executive decision to quietly inform everyone else, who all showered him in praise after they got the same results~

[bebouhito]

{ JJK OC lore, past shiunao, mpreg, nobamaki, tw: mention of suicide attempt, tw: alcohol mention, 1.6k words }

Part 3

Part 2

Part 1

Later that day, as she said she would, Naomi called. Shiu was still fighting a headache, but nothing that wasn’t manageable. The effects of alcohol had lessened over the years, he had just gone overboard the night before.

It was the twentieth anniversary of the day Naoya had told him he was pregnant.

He could barely remember this girl from the bar. He just knew she’d shown him more kindness than he deserved. So, although the ringtone split his head in half, he picked up the phone.

She was evasive. She said she had something important to discuss, and Shiu’s mind wandered.

Had something happened last night that he couldn’t recall? But he was still fully dressed when he woke up this morning… Maybe they’d done it in the bar’s bathroom. He shuddered at the thought. She was so young, she could be his…

“Can I come over?” She asked. “With my moms.”

Shiu’s worries deepened. Was it bad enough that she had to bring over her parents?

“Did I do something wrong?” He asked, and Naomi chuckled nervously.

“No.” She said. “It’s just… When we talked last night, you mentioned someone my mother knows. Someone she’d like to talk about, and there’s nobody else left to do that. Are you free this afternoon?”

She didn’t really leave him time to question her reasons, and Shiu happened to be free that day.

So he said yes, not knowing what to expect.

Who had he mentioned the night before?

His interrogations were left unanswered until a few hours later, when the doorbell rang and he opened the door.

The girl from last night. She looked so much like /him/.

Shiu was far from having met every member of the Zenin clan, and she was too young anyway, but maybe they were related? The tallest of the two older women who followed did look like a Zenin.

By the time they sat down in the living room, Shiu was feeling lightheaded. He’d heard of the Zenin clan massacre, none of them had survived except for-

“Maki Zenin.” The woman introduced herself.

“Zenin…” Shiu let the name roll off his tongue.

“I’m Naoya’s cousin.”

Suddenly it all came back to him. The many times Naoya had complained about his useless baby girl cousins, so often it drove Shiu crazy, and how he suddenly stopped after learning the baby they were expecting was a girl.

“He didn’t go easy on you, did he?...” Shiu sighed, and Maki remained expressionless.

“He definitely wasn’t the caring kind.”

“He was different around me. I would’ve never thought, but he almost became… nurturing. He changed a lot after finding out we were having a girl.”

Shiu felt his eyes water, and he regretted bringing the girl and her mothers in.

“I guess you know what happened to him.” He said, and Maki shuffled closer to Naomi.

“Actually, I never got the whole story.”

Shiu braced himself. He was dying to tell someone about the events that had haunted him for the past twenty years, but he was afraid of how broken he would be by the time he’d reach the end.

“I… I was away when he went into labor. He called me, but I couldn’t be there until an hour later. We didn’t live together, his father forbade it until the end of the pregnancy. He wanted to keep Naoya close, I suppose, and it makes sense considering what Toji told me about Megumi. But I should have remained within reach, not away on some stupid, meaningless business…”

Nobara hadn’t said a thing since they’d come in, but she reached for Naomi’s hand.

Naomi was pale, and her heart was threatening to leap out of her throat.

“When I got there, Naoya’s father greeted me at the gate. I’ll never forget the look on his face. He looked displeased, but not shattered or devastated as he told me I was too late, and that… Naoya and our b-baby… hadn’t made it.”

Shiu was looking down as tears fell on the hardwood floor.

“I asked to see their bodies. I begged, but he told me they were already being cremated. It made no sense, I called him a- an old motherfucker, a liar, a stupid bastard, I was on the ground asking for my lover and my baby- I’d built the rest of my life around them. I’d begun to furnish the apartment Naoya’s father had promised us in exchange for Naoya to remain with the clan until the birth. I wanted to surprise Naoya with how nice I’d made the place where we were going to raise our little girl, and now I hate myself for accepting such a bargain. I should’ve taken Naoya with me as soon as we learned we were expecting, I lost him to a free Tokyo apartment. Still, I couldn’t believe Naobito’s words. I told him I’d be back eventually. As I left, I took my phone and I called and texted Naoya. For an entire day I did everything I could to reach him, but I never got an answer. I’d never been more afraid in my entire life. It was like losing Toji all over again, but it hurt in different ways, because I loved them differently. But I loved them. I loved Naoya, but it took me too long to tell him. I didn’t tell him enough. I never got to tell my baby.”

Naomi didn’t cry easily, but Shiu’s distress brought tears to her yellow eyes. Nobara kept her gaze on her, squeezing her hand while Shiu didn’t look at either of them.

“The next day… I’d lost all hope. I wasn’t thinking straight. I didn’t think twice, didn’t even take my shoes or my jacket off as I jumped off a bridge. When I woke up in the hospital after a long coma, I asked for the personnel to call Naoya’s number. I was too weak to do it myself. They told me they’d left voice messages, but never got an answer. After I was discharged, I used a burner phone to call him again. I’d lost mine in the water when I jumped. Then, I learned about the Zenin clan massacre. I never… never got the courage to look up each name. If he was somehow still alive and I hadn’t fought my way inside when Naobito told me he was dead… There were already so many things I couldn’t forgive myself for. So I moved into the apartment we were promised our baby would grow up in, as a punishment for my failures, and also because it was free. I was despicable right until the end.”

When he finally looked up from behind his tears, he saw two women crying and the third one taking a deep breath.

“Naobito lied to you.”

Shiu let out a shaky exhale. “How do you know?”

“Because I was the one who found Naoya’s body.”

Shiu sank into the couch, his reddened eyes wide and his mouth agape.

“Found?...”

“On November 12, 2018, after finishing off every single remaining member of the clan, I found Naoya’s corpse on the floor with a knife in his back. I could tell from the blood trails that he had tried to crawl towards another room, where I found a baby crying in a crib.”

Shiu looked like he’d been punched in the sternum and had the breath sucked out of him. His eyes went from Maki to the younger girl and he fought to get words out.

“What’s your name?...”

Yellow eyes seemed to stare into his soul, wet with tears but still carrying the same fierceness and insolent defiance as the man Shiu still loved with his entire being, and who he had never replaced.

“Naomi.” She said, and Shiu broke down.

He leaned forward, elbows digging into his knees, and pressed his hands to his forehead as he sobbed. His cries echoed in the apartment where there was still a room with a crib, a changing table and toys Shiu never had the heart to throw away.

He couldn’t get any words out. He just wailed, whining with each breath and shaking uncontrollably.

Naomi eventually got up from her seat and kneeled in front of him, gently taking one of his hands to remove it from his face.

“Hey…” she choked out, laughing softly through the tears. “I’ve only seen you twice but you… You seem like a good man, and I can tell you would’ve raised me with so much love. You don’t have to worry, my moms took great care of me until now.”

Shiu leaned into Naomi’s touch, and the tears clouding his vision turned her eyes into two blurry golden pools.

“If you’re okay with that, I’d love to have you in my life.” She added, and he could just nod and sob. He sniffled, moving his hands to cup Naomi’s face, and she pressed their foreheads together.

“I didn’t even ask for your name.” She chuckled as they were standing so close to each other.

“I-It’s… Shiu Kong…”

“Shiu…” Naomi repeated barely above a whisper. She wasn't ready to call him “dad” yet, but she could feel how strong their bond was already.

Shiu kept sobbing her name and brushing his thumbs over her tear-stained cheeks as Maki finally shed tears in Nobara’s arms.

After a while and once Shiu’s whimpers had died down, Naomi sat by his side on the couch and rubbed away her tears with a smile.

“Say, Shiu, don’t you think I’ve got your nose?”

[megistusdiary]

edging mona. that’s it, that’s the ask.

i like the way you think, anon. also i love mona so much! her design is so pretty and her lore is interesting fr. also this one turned out a bit longer than usual :0

warnings: kinda mean-dom!gn anatomy/pronouns reader and sub!mona

edging, oral/fingering (character receiving), some dacryphilia, teasing, begging, slight power imbalance (1 person clothed, 1 person stripped), reader calls mona petnames, also mona is in her updated costume because i actually prefer the updated skins ngl. the thigh highs stay ON during sex.

mona writhed on the bed, hair splayed out around her, finally free from the usual pigtails. she was stripped down to her underwear and thigh highs, leaving herself on display for you.

you were hovering over her, kneeling between her spread thighs, still completely clothed. something about the slight power imbalance made mona shiver in delight, enjoying the chance to let someone else take the lead for once.

you dragged your lips down her neck and across her chest. deliberately kissing around her nipples, she huffed as she tried to push her chest further into your face.

"hey, none of that. you were already a brat today." you warned her, nudging her chest back towards the bed. "this is your chance for redemption. show me you can be a good girl, hm?"

her cheeks turned red as she nodded, watching your hand trail down. she could feel your fingers skating across the waistband of her panties as she forced herself to remain still.

"pretty. were you expecting this, by any chance?" you teased, tracing the lace on the white panties. your eyes trailed lower, settling on the prominent wet spot that showed through the thin fabric. "it seems like you were. how cute."

you slowly moved your fingers across the crotch of the panties, rubbing soft circles on her clit as she quite literally mewled. "oh, please- please, more-"

"more what, princess? be specific." you reminded, continuing to slide your fingers around her clothed pussy.

"i want more of you! touch me more!" she demanded, voice airy.

"do you think you deserve it, though?"

mona looked up at you with wide eyes. "please, please. i want it so bad. i- i'll do anything!" she promised.

"you want to come that bad huh?" you asked, a devious thought popping into your mind as she rapidly nodded. "if you're sure." you sent her a smirk.

your fingers hooked under the waistband of the panties, dragging them down her thighs as she gasped. you watched strings of her slick stretching with the fabric, snapping as you pulled them past her thighs, and down her legs.

once the cloth was at her feet, you allowed her to kick them off before you kneeled between her open legs. gripping her thighs, you pulled her across the soft blankets towards you, putting her legs over your shoulders and leaving your nose inches from her bare clit.

she let out shaky, bated breaths waiting for you to touch her. you opted to move forward, pressing a careful kiss on the bud, watching her shift slightly.

you continued to press kisses to her pussy before finally allowing your tongue to press against her clit. she gasped, hips twitching as you smirked against her, enclosing your lips around her clit and sucking gently. she desperately tried not to move, but she couldn't help but push her hips against your mouth.

she felt you move your hand that was resting on her thigh further up, rubbing your thumb along the smooth skin near her pussy. and then you pulled your mouth away as she whined from the loss of contact.

you leaned up over her body, tapping your fingers on her lips. "open up."

her lips slowly parted as you allowed your fingers to slide into her mouth, pushing down on her tongue gently. she closed her mouth, lapping her tongue against the fingers as much as she could. she sucked gently on the skin, putting on a show for you as her eyes stared up into yours.

"naughty." you smiled, pulling your fingers away and prodding at her hole. you moved back down to kneel on the floor, lapping at her clit to ease the stretch as you inserted your fingers into her.

she let out soft moans, fingers finding purchase in your hair. "you feel so tight." you mumbled into her pussy as she writhed from the different sensations.

once your fingers were fully in, you began to slowly move them in and out, experimentally curling and angling them to find that spot that made her arch off the bed.

mona let out airy gasps and moans, head tipped back into the fluffy pillows. when you finally angled your fingers just right she let out a breathy moan, thighs shaking on your shoulders.

"right there, princess?" you asked teasingly, feeling her hole clench. pressing the pads of your fingers into the spot, she cried out, gripping your hair tightly. you went back to circling her clit with your tongue, kissing over her pussy.

"i'm close- i wanna come. can i please?" she begged in the sweetest voice she could muster. her thighs shook in anticipation as she neared her high. her eyes fell shut once more, mouth falling open-

and just like that, you pulled away. easing your fingers out of her, you pressed one final kiss to her pussy before you moved away.

her head shot up, eyes wide and teary as she looked at you confused. "why?"

"you told me you wanted to come? you better earn it then. i didn't like being teased all morning."

you waited until her body relaxed onto the bed before circling her clit once more as her body went stiff, canting her hips up into your hands.

everytime she thought you would finally take pity on her and send her over the edge, you pulled away.

"i just wanna come! i'm sorry! i won't tease you anymore, i swear by the archons!" mona finally cried out as you smiled, watching her watery eyes look up at you.

"i like that apology much better, baby...but i think we can edge you one more time, don't you? maybe after that i'll see if you've really earned it."

[leossmoonn]

Opposites Attract

masterlist

pairing - stefan salvatore x fem!reader

type - fluff, angst

note / request - requested by anon “AHH ok a concept- you and stefan are both show/movie nerds and you find out he watches the same stuff you do and all but you're from a hunter family so you're supposed to hate him and all but you really don't want to break contact with him so you guys call each other while watching a show or smth together and then banter over each other's opinions over the phone and this routine goes on till days until you guys decide to have an actual sleepover at your place and then you fall asleep on his shoulders while watching some drama show and arguing about it 🥺” okay so obvs I added more to this. honestly I’m not really caught up w the tvd hunter lore but from what I’ve seen it’s kinda impossible for a hunter to love a vampire if their mission is to kill them… but let me bend the rules for this fic lol

summary - you’re a hunter and stefan is a vampire, so why do you two fall for each other?

warnings / includes - mild language, violence, steamy make out sesh, food and alcohol consumption

————

*gif isn’t mine*

You knew you should hate him. You should want to kidnap him, drag him into the forest, stab his heart with a stake. But you couldn’t. The first time you looked at him and into his eyes you couldn’t.

You were one step away from ending his life. Your hand was around his neck, your foot on his chest as to hold him to the ground. You had already used wooden bullets to penetrate his skin, weakening him with each shot. Now he was bleeding on the ground, begging you to have mercy on him.

“Please, I-I have a brother that you will be happier to kill. He’s an asshole and —”

“Ratting our family? Now you really deserve to die. For real this time,” you remark.

You hold the stake up in the air, ready to plunge it into his dead heart. But you stop at the last second as your eyes meet his. Something about them makes you halt all your movements. The sincerity in the and the true fear they held. The kindness and softness that was knitted between his eyebrows, although he looked scared shitless. His eyes were pretty green, matching the color of the pine trees you were surrounded by. His pupils were wide and you could see your reflection in them. You didn’t realize how ugly you looked with the face of a murderer.

“Are you going to kill me or what?” He asks.

You snap back to reality, stumbling backwards. You allow him to get free and you expect him to try and kill you, but all he does is get up slowly, putting his hands up in caution.

“What are you doing? Is this some game you’re playing?” Although he puts on a brave face, you can hear the panic in his voice as it breaks and shakes.

“I…I…” you fail to make words. You can’t stop staring at him. Even though he got free and had the chance to kill you, he didn’t. There was something so different about him. You could feel it.

“Are you okay?” His body relaxes and he takes a step over to you.

“You’re asking me if I’m okay?” You scoff. “Well, you were just about to kill me and you didn’t. Now you look like you’ve seen a ghost,” he explains.

“I just… I don’t know. I know I should kill you. I should want to, and I do, but I can’t,” you say.

He raises his brows. “Is this some kind of trick to catch me off guard?”

You shake your head. “No. I’m just as shocked and confused as you are. This has never happened to me before.”

“I don’t know much about hunters, but I’ve never heard of one breaking their mission.”

“Me neither,” you say. You then groan, running your hands all over your face. “My dad is going to be so pissed. He’s expecting me to come home with your head on the stake.”

He chuckles, “well, that sounds like a great reward.” “Yeah, to him,” you sigh. “Look, I don’t know how long I’ll feel this way, so I’ll just leave. You can thank me for sparring your life. Pray that you won’t run into me again.”

You spin on your heel, walking a few steps before he stops you.

“What’s your name?” He asks. You laugh sourly. “Why do you want to know?”

“You showed me kindness which means there’s more to you than meets the eye.”

“You always use cliché phrases.”

“It’s kind of my thing.”

You turn around slowly, smiling at him. “Like ratting your brother out is your thing?”

“If you knew him, you’d know he deserves it.”

Something in you wanted to invite yourself to his home, meeting his brother only to get to know him more. You knew that the fact you didn’t kill him meant something. The sick feeling in your gut meant something.

Could you afford to be selfish and seek it out?

“I’ll take your word for it,” you chuckle. “I gotta get home. See you never — probably.”

“Wait, don’t go,” he frowns. “Do you like being in the company of danger?” You raise your brows.

“That’s another one of my things,” he smirks.

“Well, good for you, but I don’t like mixing business with pleasure. If you want to keep living, then I should go.”

“I can keep living if you stay.”

“I highly doubt that.”

“You won’t know if you don’t try.”

“I’m not willing to take that chance. Look, you’re a nice guy, anyone can see that. You don’t deserve to die, and I really wish I wasn’t who I was because, admittedly, I am interested in you. I don’t know why, but there’s something about you that pulls me to you. But we’re so different and nice people don’t deserve bad things.”

He smiles, “you’re interested in me, huh?”

You roll your eyes. “Don’t let that go to your head.”

“I won’t.” He crosses his arms against his chest. “But it does make me optimistic.”

“About what?”

“That you’ll say yes to having lunch with me tomorrow.”

You snort, “fat chance.” “C’mon, it’s been ten minutes and you still haven’t killed me. Do you feel an urge?” He asks.

“No, but —”

“So take a chance! I know the circumstances are weird, but, you meet the best people in the most unconventional situations.”

He wasn’t wrong. You let out a sigh as you thought over your decisions. You could say yes. You two could potentially develop a friendship, maybe even a romance if your feeling for him became that deep. But on the other end, you could say yes and eventually kill him. Not on purpose, of course, but your instincts could suddenly kick in at any given moment and you wouldn’t see him as the man you would get to know. You would see him as a vampire: vile, dead, a menace to society. And then you could say no. You could never see him again and always have him in the back of your mind as the man who changed you for a fraction of time.

“You don’t have to decide now, but if you do say yes, I’ll be at The Grill at noon tomorrow. Show up if you want. No shame in not showing up, though,” he says.

“Okay,” you nod slowly. “Alright,” he smiles. “I’m Stefan, by the way.”

“Y/n.” You give him a small smile. “Hopefully I’ll see you tomorrow,” he says.

“Don’t count on it.”

Oh, but he did. That night you couldn’t stop thinking about him. He was the last thing you thought of before you went to bed and the first thing you thought about when he woke up. You decided that it was a sign and that you should at least take a chance. And so you did.

You walk into The Grill, looking around for Stefan’s face. You found him in a corner booth, sipping on a glass of bourbon.

“You day drink a lot?” You question as you walk up to him.

“Nah,” he shakes his head. “I just gotta settle my nerves, you know.”

“Oh, are you afraid I’ll kill you?” You grin. “Nope. I’m just nervous. You’re a pretty girl and I want this date to go well,” he explains.

Your face warms and you look down shyly, sliding into the booth. “A date, huh?”

“What did you think this was?”

“Mm, hang out? Chilling with a friend? Getting free food.”

“Oh, you think I’m gonna pay?”

“If you’re a gentleman,” you smile. “Lucky for you, I am,” he smiles back.

“It’s okay. I can pay for my own food,” you say. “No please, I insist. I was the one who invited you,” he says.

You nod, “alright. Next time I’ll pay then.”

“Oh, next time?” He grins.

“No promises,” you wink.

You two have a great time. No surprise there. You spend two hours at the restaurant before you realize what time it was.

“I gotta get home,” you say. “Is your curfew this early?” He asks.

“No, I just have something I need to do for my dad.”

“Let me guess, I don’t wanna know?” He asks. You chuckle, “probably not.”

“Okay. Well, when can I see you next?”

“Who says this is gonna happen again?” You smirk. “You always give people a hard time?” He raises his brow.

“Only when I like them a lot,” you remark. He smiles, “great to know, then.”

You force yourself to leave. It was honestly painful. You wanted to stay and talk to him. You wanted to get to know him more, laugh more, smile more. This was the first time in a while you had actually felt like yourself. You felt free and safe. You felt like you could be someone else than the hunter your father raised you to be. It was refreshing that someone saw you in a different light for once.

You and Stefan decided to continue your friendship in secret. If your dad found out, then he would literally kill you. If Stefan’s friends found out, they would also kill you. It was better to live your lives in secret for a good while.

You two usually hung out either at The Grill, in the woods, or sometimes if you two were lucky, you would be able to sneak him into your ranch house for a few hours during the day. You two would just talk for hours on hours on hours about everything and anything. You learned so much about him. You could retell his stories like you lived through them, too. You weren’t much of an open book, but you slowly told him bits and pieces of your childhood and your life growing up with your family until he was also able to tell your stories like they were his own.

Tonight was a special night, though. Your father was out of town and your brothers and sisters were either at friends’ houses or with your father. You had the whole night to yourself, which meant that you were finally able to have Stefan over in your house.

“This is the kitchen,” you say as you walk him around.

“This is nice,” Stefan comments. He runs his hands over the marble finish of your counter tops. “It looks really neat. Do you guys clean a lot?”

“No, our kitchen is just never used,” you chuckle. “We’re always eating out and stuff. The only homemade meals I’ve had are from my grandma, and she’s dead, so.”

“Right,” he nods. “What if I make you something?”

“Oh, it’s okay. My dad will come home and smell the food and definitely know you were here.”

“But you deserve a home cooked meal. And you’ve tasted my past. You know I’m a good cook.”

You smile, “you are. But I’m just worried that —”

“You, worried? That’s not an emotion I ever picture you feeling.”

You laugh, “I know I put up a front, but it’s different with my dad. I don’t want to take a chance at exposing you and us.”

“I promise I’ll be quick and I’ll clean everything. It’ll be as if I was never here.”

You hum in thought. “Alright. Please don’t make a mess.”

“I won’t. I promise.”

He makes you your favorite dish. You sit on your island table and watch him cook. He was so skillful and graceful with each movements. The way he cut the vegetables, seasoned the sauce, even poured the wine. You realized that there was never going to be a better sight than him cooking. He was in his element.

“This tastes amazing,” you say with a mouth full of food. He smiles, “I’m happy you like it.”

“Oh, I love it. You should cook for me more. Can I hire you as my personal chef?” You ask.

“I’ll be whatever you want me to be, baby.”

You grow shy at the pet name, ducking your head down and taking another bite of food.

You two weren’t an official couple. Despite almost kissing and always cuddling and holding hands. You two never saw other people, either. You didn’t know what you were waiting for. You weren’t the type of girl to wait for the guy to make the first move. You were assertive and bold and didn’t like to waste time. But like with everything, it was different with Stefan.

You enjoyed taking it slow. If he was someone else, you would’ve already slept with him. But you liked talking for hours, holding his hands, sitting in silence. You relished being in his arms and spending uninterrupted time with him. It was heaven.

“When will your dad be back again?” He asks. “Tomorrow around noon, but he might come home sooner, so you’ll have to leave earlier if that’s okay,” you answer.

“All good,” he nods. “Can I, uh, see the upstairs after you’re done?”

“Yeah, of course,” you nod. You finish your dinner, washing the dishes quickly before you have a tour of the rest of your house.

“This is my dad’s room,” you slowly open the door.

“Wow, it’s big,” Stefan says. His breath catches in his throat as he sees heads mounted on the walls.

“Yeah, he’s real proud of his work,” you mumble. You hold Stefan’s hand, pulling him away to the next room. “This is my brother’s. He’s the oldest.”

You walk down the hall, showing Stefan everyone’s room and the bathroom before going to yours. He smiles as he sees the picture of you and your mom on front of your door.

“You look cute in this picture,” he says. “Thanks. I was seven,” you reply. You open your door, stepping in and letting Stefan see all of it.

Your room was similar to the others, but also different. It was lighter and smaller. Stefan could feel the homeliness in it.

“Your room is really you,” he comments. You chuckle, “thanks. I try.”

“These your siblings?” Stefan points to a big family portrait on the wall.

“Yep,” you sigh. “We get family portraits done every year to show our “growth”,” you use air quotations.

“You have some from when you’re a kid, then?”

“Yeah, and no, you can’t see them.”

“Aw, why not?”

“One, it’s embarrassing. Two, I don’t know where they are.”

“I see. Well, looks like I’ll have to bring a search party in here.”

You smile, “good luck getting past me.”

“I think I’ll survive,” he smirks. “So, what do you wanna do now?” You ask.

He shrugs, “whatever you want. We have the whole house to ourselves.”

“Wanna watch a movie then?” You suggest. “Sure. You can pick,” he nods.

You two go back downstairs and you put in your favorite movie. You pop some popcorn, snuggling into Stefan’s side.

You two cuddled in silence for half of the movie. You began to feel tired and you put your head on his shoulder, wrapping your arms around his middle and using him as a pillow. He smiles down at you, his chest warming at the sight of your pretty face snuggling into his shirt. Your scent immersed him, making him focus on you instead of the movie.

He hugs you closer, gently resting his cheek onto your head. He starts to play with the hem of your sweater, shamelessly staring at your lips.

“Y/n?” He says a little bit above a whisper. “Yeah?” You hum, looking up at him. You notice where his eyes are and best begins to rise to your cheeks.

“Thanks for not killing me yet,” he says. You smile, “it’s not hard. You don’t make me want to kill you.”

“I’m glad,” he laughs.

Your eyes flicker down to his lips and you find yourself wondering how he tastes, how he kisses. Would he feel as good as you imagined? Would it be as magical as you wished?

“Can I kiss you?” He asks.

You look up at his eyes. Those beautiful, kind, green eyes you love so much. You don’t verbally answer him. You just lean in, closing the gap between you two.

One of his hands wraps around the back of your head and cradles your neck. His other arm supports the small of your back, pressing your chest up against his. You wrap your arms around his neck, running your fingers through his soft hair. You hum in content as he moves you onto his lap. You straddle his waist, pulling him towards you to deepen the kiss.

It felt better than you had imagined. It was even more magical than you could wish for. He kissed you gently, but you didn’t miss the passion behind each movement. He held you like he was hugging you. Like he never wanted to let go. His lips fit between yours perfectly, just like a kissing puzzle piece. And he was one hell of a kisser, too.

You pull away, your lungs begging for air. You rest your forehead against his, a smile lighting up your face.

“You have no idea how long I’ve wanted to do that,” he breathes out.

“Me, too,” you laugh.

“I wanna do it again,” he says. You nod against him. “Let’s take it to the bedroom, yeah?”

He grins, “that would be a dream come true.”

————

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[sally-mun]

Any general tips for someone who is about to get into writing Sonic related fiction?

Know your lore without being a slave to it.

Writing, in general, necessitates a lot of research before you get started, whether you're doing a fanwork or not. There's a reason the adage goes, "To write well, you have to write what you know." Trying to write about something without adequate research will obviously open you up to things like misinformation and personal bias, but beyond that it also means your work will be incredibly shallow and flat. Readers will bounce right off and probably not come back for anything else you write, either.

This goes for fandom works just as much as it does for original works. You need to know the canon to expand upon it, or else your work won't come across to your readers as authentic or sincere. We're all familiar with how it feels to consume a piece of media (including official sources) that clearly came from writers that didn't know what they were talking about; depending on how important that story is to you, even one uninformed writer can make a work feel downright offensive for so badly disrespecting the source material. No one wants to give that feeling to their own readers, so I BEG of you, do your research before you even start.

HOWEVER, familiarizing yourself with canon does not mean you've been handed a rulebook. At the end of the day, you're the only one that can decide what does and doesn't help the story you're trying to tell. If there's a piece of canon that's in your way, don't feel like you have to write around it (or worse, forcibly incorporate it); you are completely free to yeet that shit into the wild blue yonder if it's not working for you. I literally can't even tell you the amount of things I've outright omitted from my stories because I decided they were unnecessary, nonsensical, out of character, a deus ex machina, conflicted with other established info, or just plain boring/stupid. Canon's not your real dad, it can't tell you what to do. Provided that you clearly establish early on to your readers 1) what you have changed, and 2) why you have changed it, they'll usually be willing to go with you on it.*

That said, though, it's very important to be well-read on the fandom you want to write fiction for. Even if you're not directly drawing inspiration from or utilizing a piece of canon, there are countless ways you can incorporate bits and pieces of it to fill in fine details and give your story more depth. It can be as simple as a particular item turning up as a set piece. Those little references are the things that make readers go "Ah, I see what you did there!" and pats them on the back for recognizing the same bit of lore that you did. Small acknowledgements like that are little ways in which you can indirectly thank your reader for spending their time reading YOUR story as opposed to anyone else's.

If you're working from a fandom that has multiple branches of canon -- as the Sonic series is well-known for -- it would be in your best interest to have at least a passing familiarity with as many of those branches as you can, by the way. Lots of readers are going to be familiar with more than just the specific branch you're drawing from, so that's extra opportunities to reward them for giving your story a chance! More importantly, though, you'd be surprised just how much inspiration you can find from transferring a piece of lore from one canonical branch to another. It prompts you to think more deeply about your existing story and ask yourself questions that may not have otherwise crossed your mind before. Even if you don't end up using that transfer in the end, it's still a great exercise to engage in, because you can still uncover new ideas that DO ultimately make it into the prose.

---

*As far as establishing the what and why of the changes, this can be done in-story or simply be a notice in a description. I personally prefer establishing these things in-story with context clues or this-therefore-that events, but if that doesn't work for you, a brief explanation outside of the story itself is perfectly acceptable.

Also, keep in mind that not all readers are going to be interested in the changes you've made -- and that is NOT a reflection of the quality of your work, so don't take it personally. We all have specific tastes in our fiction, and not every story is going to work for us. Likewise, the fandom you're writing for isn't a monolith, and the individuals that make up that fandom also have their specific tastes and preferences. Your story isn't going to be for all of them, so just focus on the audience you are writing for and give them the best story you can craft.