#honestly this writing came out of nowhere lol

[bunni-v1]

Heyyaaa

May I request dorm leaders finding out you’re a girl please? If it’s too much u can make a part 2

Dorm Leaders Find Out You're a Girl?!?!?! (NOT CLICKBAIT!!!)

TW: Mentions of transphobia (nothing awful, just literally dropping the word lol); Idia is creepy

Info: Riddle, Leona, Azul, Kalim, Vil, Idia, Malleus x Reader (Platonic or Romantic); Fluff, Comedy(?)

🍓This one is gonna be long, like 5.3k words long. I love writing the dorm leaders so damn much <3 Besides, there’s been a long wait for this one, so I hope I make it worth it! You might see some favoritism shine through, but I did my best to keep it even. Hope you all enjoy!

Tags: @kierancaz @danchann33 @arashrita @the-ace-reader @akiyamasmizuki @kitsun369 @bloomstruck (I think I got all of you)

First Years

Ortho Sebek

Second Years

Third Years

-Okay so, I know we’re all wondering, how the hell do you get away with hiding your gender for so damn long?

-Firstly, those ceremonial robes do great at hiding the figure. The only tell would maybe be your hair, but feminine men aren’t unwelcome at Nightraven College, so you mostly get a few questioning stares and that’s it.

-Secondly, Crowley wants to save his own fucking ass. He already has to hide from the press that he has a MAGICLESS student from ANOTHER DIMENSION here, he doesn’t need the fact that you are a woman ALSO on his plate. So, obviously, he helps you hide your gender from others.

-Grim knows, of course, and he keeps his mouth shut for a few yummy cans of tuna (and threats of being expelled from Crowley <3)

-Even when you were just a janitor, he couldn’t have the rumor that he put a “helpless” young woman to work. (Like it wouldn’t be expected.)

-So how do you two do it?

-Baggy ass uniform. Crowley gave you at least three sizes too big.

-Your figure is completely hidden. Sure, you look completely homeless, but at least you’re hidden.

-For your voice, you simply deepen it. After some point, you blackmail Crowley into giving you a potion to help with it, since it's so taxing on your voice. (Or maybe your voice is naturally deep!)

-Sam provides you (for an unfairly pretty penny (not too different from your original world…)) any feminine hygiene products you might need.

-Honestly, you’re set for being cared for, but it’s the adjustment period that’s the hardest part. 

-Truly, it’s very jarring to suddenly be thrown into both a magical world and be isolated in a man's world with nowhere to hide.

-At least in your world you had other women who could understand your struggles. Here though? You’re completely alone.

-You notice how… messy some of these guys could be. How some of them smell… really rancid. -How rough they were with you and each other.

-Honestly, it’s kinda eye-opening. The way men show affection to each other is oddly refreshing to watch and experience!

-Ace and Deuce specifically are a good… trial run.

-That’s not what we’re here to talk about though…

-For the most part, it's incredibly easy to hide yourself for the first while on campus. Everyone on campus is so self-absorbed that they don’t bother questioning you.

-Your only real risk factor is Savannaclaw, but it's easy to avoid those guys (minus Jack, of course).

-However, you can only hide your gender for so long… It’s mentally draining to keep up this facade all the time around people you care about.

-So… how do they find out?

Riddle

-Riddle is the last student in Heartslabyul to find out.

-It’s not like he did anything to you for you to hold off on telling him (you know, other than the whole almost killing you that one time thing), it’s just that you don’t feel inclined to tell him. 

-Simple as that.

-He also really has no reason to question your gender. 

-Riddle didn’t have must interaction with people his own age until he came to night raven college, he doesn’t have the same social ideologies as other people do.

-Nightraven college is really his first touch with society outside of his mothers very watchful, conservative eye.

-So, excuse him for not picking up on stupid little gendered norms that the other students do.

-In his eyes, you dress like a man, you act (sort of) like the other male students, and you prefer he/him pronouns. 

-There’s nothing more to it then, right? If you identify as a man, he has no reason not to treat you as such - nor should he suspect you would hide your gender like that.

-Besides, this is an all boys school! Crowley wouldn’t allow you to attend here unless you were also a boy… right?

-He is aware there are exceptions — and you are already QUITE the exception, but surely Crowley wouldn’t be so cruel as to force a young woman to attend an all boys academy.

-Ah, sweet Riddle, ever in denial.

-He isn’t STUPID though. He notices how brotherly Trey is to you. He knows (and has heard) your many “secret sleepovers” with Cater.

-He ignores these things and doesn’t comment on them simply because, well, he likes you!

-He helps to tutor you sometimes, and he’s gotten to know you through that, and he really does come around on enjoying your presence.

-So, he ignores Trey and Cater’s odd behaviors for your sake.

-You keep him and his dorm members in high spirits, why would he want to shoo something like that away?

-He doesn’t really questionthings until he… overhears a conversation between Deuce and Ace. (A rather loud one, for how supposedly secret this topic was meant to be).

-One of them had gotten in trouble with a professor, and he was going to give them a stern scolding when he overheard what they were talking about.

-“Deuce, dude, you’re gonna want to sit down for this one.”

“What is it, I’m busy trying to finish my potionology homework.”

“Seriously this one is crazy, you’re not ready for for it.”

“Ace, if you’re just messing with me I’m going to leave.”

“Dude, the prefect is a girl.”

“…What?”

-Riddle did not bother the two after that. In fact, he just walked back to his room to sit and think about what he just overheard.

-It DID make sense. You didn’t quite fit in with everyone else for reasons outside of your otherworldly origin.

-You acted differently than the typical guy here at NRC, and you seemed to get along with the peers that were more ‘traditionally feminine’ best.

-It would explain Trey’s coddling and Cater’s secretiveness.

-Still, he didn’t want to assume. This was Ace and Deuce, and Ace could just be messing around with Deuce.

-So, at your next tutoring session, he broaches the subject as politely as possible.

-“So, prefect, I have… overheard something that I wanted to ask you about.”

“Oh no, am I in trouble because of Ace and Deuce again.”

“Not… technically… I did, however, overhear them talking about… you being a woman.”

“…I’m gonna kill them.”

“I could collar them for you, if that would help.”

-The confirmation was reassuring for Riddle in multiple ways. 

-1) Ace isn’t as terrible of a person as the thought he was.

-2) He wasn’t crazy in noticing the slight differences in you and your other peers.

-Now, you and Riddle aren’t exactly super close by any means, so your interactions with each other are limited to when you’re either being tutored or with friends in Heartslabyul.

-However, he is notably more nervous than he usually is.

-He doesn’t have some super secret crush on your all of the sudden, he just… never really had a chance to interact with women before.

-His mom kept him very sheltered from the opposite gender, so he has little to no experience with them.

-On top of that, because of his mother, he does have a slight fear of women. He’s afraid he’s going to upset you and you’ll blow a fuse on him or something.

-You have to assure him that you don’t bite and you won’t suddenly start screaming at him for no reason, and then he begins to relax a bit.

-Still, he’s very sweet and gentlemanly to you.

-If you need help with anyone around campus, you should come to him and he will have them dealt with accordingly.

Leona

-Leona “Respects Women” Kingscholar.

-Leona has SLIGHTLY worse smell than Ruggie, but he also knew immediately upon your arrival that you were a girl.

-In fact, he knew you weren’t a trans man, because they smell distinctly different from the typical woman.

-There aren’t many trans people in the Savannah though, so Ruggie not being able to pick up on that doesn’t really shock him.

-Leona, however, has smelled and seen plenty of trans people in his life time — you aren’t one of them.

-He won’t lie, he’s definitely interested in you. Women where he comes from are big and strong and proud, you’re just kind of plain.

-He keeps his ever curious eye on you though, because he’s interested in how you might navigate this whole thing.

-Now don’t get it twisted, he doesn’t care about you, he’s curious about you. 

-If you were to ask him for help on something, he wouldn’t offer it. (Not that you would, you seem particularly averse to him).

-However, if he were to see some creep trying to… well… creep on you, he’d chase them away without ever having you know he did.

-He was your secret bodyguard who wouldn’t admit it even if you held a knife to his throat.

-Still, he stayed out of your way and you stayed out of his. 

-A symbiotic relationship that you weren’t even aware existed… until you got in his way.

-Like Ruggie, when you start getting a little too involved in his ahem business, he gets pretty damn annoyed.

-You’re not exactly a threat to start, but you are a little trouble maker. If you find out what he’s up to, you’ll ruin his plans completely, and he can’t have that.

-However, he’s not exactly comfortable “taking care of you” like he is his male peers.

-He respects women, okay, you can’t blame him for not wanting to purposefully hurt you. (If his mom and brother found out, he’d never hear the damn end of it)

-He sends out Ruggie to scare you off, explicitly telling him he can’t hurt you on purpose.

-He knows Ruggie already has an idea of what’s going on, so he doesn’t have any qualms with telling him to be careful with you.

-Still, despite all this, he doesn’t really broach the topic until he’s forced to.

-He’s made it known to you, at this point, that he knows your secret. 

-He hasn’t caused you any extra trouble since his overblot, and he keeps his dorm members off your back, so you have no reason to interact with him… until, again, you get yourself into trouble.

-This time it’s YOU dragging him into your mess, despite him wanting nothing to do with it.

-You are convincing, though, so he gives and allows you to stay in his dorm room — rent free! Isn’t he so nice.

-Jack offers himself for protection if you need it, but you can see that Ruggie is quite bemused with the whole situation, so you decide to turn him down.

-Leona hasn’t tried anything yet, and he really could if he wanted to.

-You decide you can trust him. (You have to trust him).

-Then presents the issue of sharing a bed.

-Leona isn’t a weird pervert, okay. He isn’t absolutely leaping at the idea to be in bed with you — he’s so sorry.

-Honestly, it makes him a bit… uncomfortable.

-Sharing a bed is something you do with family or someone you’re involved with, not the weird magic-less kid who’s at least three years too young for you.

-So, Leona, ever the women’s rights activist, approaches you with a proposition.

-“Listen, I know you’re a woman and I know you know that. We’re not sharing a bed, there ain’t no way that’s happening.”

“Oh, so would you like the poor helpless homeless woman to sleep on the floor? How cruel can you be Leona.”

“Shut up, I’m not gonna do that to you. Listen, you can have the bed all to yourself and I’ll sleep on the couch, so long as you promise not to tell a single soul about this.”

“I promise.”

-You immediately tell Ruggie the next morning, and he is sure to make sure Leona never forgets it.

-Living with Leona for the short period of time that you do is very insightful!

-He’s actually pretty funny, much smarter than he lets on, and almost brotherly to you. Which does not fit the M.O. you built of him in your head.

-He’s gruff and pushy, but he does it out of genuineness.

-You end up getting really close to him because of it. 

-His quiet and laid-back demeanor are a break from the chaos of everyone else on campus, and he doesn’t make a big deal out of anything so you can just complain and he nods along unbothered.

-Only thing you notice that upsets him is when you bring up guys who bother you.

-Those guys tend to stop bothering you shortly after. How strange…

Azul

-Azul is hands down the last person on campus you want knowing about this.

-Riddle, Ruggie, Trey, Cater and pretty much everyone with half a brain tell you to stay as far away from him as possible.

-You see him in the halls sometimes, and he doesn’t look to bad. Unapproachable, sure, but he’s a rather pretty guy. Well put together and seemingly very smart from what you’ve been told.

-He helped to subdue Grim in the opening ceremony, so you know he’s magically capable. He’s also a house warden, so that goes unspoken, I suppose.

-He seems interested in you, from what you can tell. He always waves at you when he does see you in a sort of fake friendly kind of way. 

-You’ve seen him and his little (large, very large) goonies admiring ramshackle before.

-You’ve also politely asked them to not do that when you moved in, because it freaks you out a lot. To which they all gave you very eerie smiles and walked away.

-They remind you of a very small mafia, and you decided to heed your friends warnings because of that.

-You do so successfully for a long time too. Other than the few previously stated interactions, Azul seems un-inclined to bother you, and you don’t want to catch his leering eyes.

-Little do you know, Azul has a much more watchful eye on you that you initially thought.

-Sure, you don’t have much to offer him magic wise, but you have ramshackle. Oh, how he wants ramshackle.

-You are key to obtaining it, he just… has to find something on you first.

-You’re so painfully average. Perhaps a little more pretty in the face than his other peers, but you sacrifice that with the atrociousness of your uniform. 

-Truly, nothing about you is different.

-He almost gives up until Grim delivers him an opportunity in a pretty little bow.

-You agree to his contract out of the goodness of your heart, just like he knew you would. So sweet and kind are you, to practically hand him the deed to ramshackle on a silver platter.

-He notices, however, that Jade grows a very… sudden fascination with you.

-Sure, he told both Jade and Floyd to keep and eye on you and keep you in like, but for Jade to be so interested… very odd.

-Then, shortly after, Floyd’s own interest is piqued. Alright… less odd than Jade, but to have both of their eyes on you must mean he’s missing something. (I know I previously said that Floyd found out after Azul, but I was stupid and wrong and you should never listen to me when I’m talking about Floyd).

-He tries to get it out of them by any means, Asking, blackmailing, manipulation. He really does try, but their lips are sealed tight.

-It frustrates him to no end that they know something he doesn’t, and that he can’t figure out this very big secret.

-It stumps him for so long, because he’s looking in all the wrong places for the answer.

-Meanwhile, you know that Jade and Floyd know and you are TERRIFIED waiting for Azul to use this against you.

-The suspense starts killing you and making you anxious enough that its affecting sleep, so you decide to bite the bullet and arrange a meeting with him.

-Azul is honestly delighted, because he was just going to outright force the truth from you at this point.

-“I’m glad you set up this meeting, I’ve been meaning to talk to you.”

“I know… I’ve been pretty nervous about it since Jade and Floyd started pestering me.”

“Before I talk about what I want to, I’d like to hear what you have to say. I’m a good listener after all.”

“Too good, if you ask me. Uhm, anyway, so I know that Jade and Floyd to you that I’m a girl already, but I’m really hoping you would just leave me be. You owe me after all.”

“…You’re a girl?”

“Did they not tell you…?”

-what. What? WHAT?!?!?!

-How could he not tell, he feel so incredibly stupid. Its so obvious now that he thinks about it.

-No wonder Jade and Floyd wouldn’t stop teasing him about it.

-He agrees not to let the secret out — he DOES owe you his life, after all. This is a minor trade.

-However, he does not mentally recover from this revelation for a while.

-He doesn’t treat you very different, I suppose. He’s more gentlemanly with you, and is generally more friendly, but those things come from saving a persons life regardless.

-He is, surprisingly, willing to ensure your whole gender thing doesn’t get out so long as you work a few hours at the monster lounge.

-Probably the best at keeping it to himself and making sure it doesn’t get out. You wouldn’t expect any less with Azul, though.

Kalim

-You and Kalim don’t really have much of a chance to interact.

-He seems sweet enough, and you know he’s much kinder than the rest of the dorm leaders, but you don’t really have any reason to interact with him.

-Kalim also doesn’t think too much of you. 

-You caused a ruckus at the entrance ceremony, that’s for sure, but you kinda blend into the background.

-Besides he’s a party animal — constantly hosting these huge parties at his dorm just because he can.

-As someone trying to keep out of trouble and hide such a huge secret… yeah, parties aren’t exactly your forte.

-So, when you get roped in to coming to Scarabia over winter break, Kalim is pleasantly surprised!

-He’s always excited to make a new friend, and you’re pretty infamous around school, so he’s extra excited to get to know you.

-Kalim has no reason to question anything about you, like most other people would.

-However, he isn’t stupid. He has plenty of younger sisters, and he picks up on social queues better than you’d expect.

-He definitely suspects something is off, but he figures you would tell him if something was up. 

-You actually find him quite easy to be around. He’s someone who makes it easy to let your walls down and just relax with.

-Despite his sudden mood shifts, he always makes sure that you’re happy and healthy and doing the best you can be in your position.

-However, you run out of the magical potion that deepens your voice pretty quickly, and you have to go back to dramatically straining your voice.

-You sound sick, honestly, and it makes Kalim worry. 

-He figures that you’re forcing yourself to deepen your voice so you’re still perceived as a man.

-Instead of asking you directly, as Kalim does, he goes to Jamil.

-“Jamil…”

“What do you need, Kalim?”

“Don’t you think somethings… off with the prefect?”

“Off? What are you talking about, nothings off with them.”

“No, I mean… do you think they might be… a girl?”

“…Kalim, that’s very rude to say. You need to be more respectful.”

“…You’re right, I’m sorry. Could we get him something to soothe his voice though, it sounds rough.”

-Kalim is a lot more watchful of you after that. He just… knows something is wrong, but he doesn’t want to be rude.

-It’s actually you who comes to him when no one is around for help.

-“Kalim, uhm, I need your help.”

“Sure, what’s up?”

“So, I’m pretty sure you know, but I’m not a guy… I’m a girl, and I really need help hiding it. The longer I’ve been here, the harder it’s been on me.”

-Sweetheart he is, he promises to both help you and keep your secret to himself — and he does both surprisingly well!

-He offers his private bathroom to you so you can shower in peace. 

-It’s honestly the best bath you’ve ever had with all his sweet smelling oils. Your skin feels so smooth and renewed.

-Still, even with this, you still don’t feel safe with anyone else — plus the fact that Kalim has random and horrifying mood shifts. You have to flee.

-And yet you still get dragged into more trouble with the octatrio. You still get exposed to the whole dorm by a crazed Jamil, and now have to deal with the horror that they’ll tell everyone.

-Kalim feels awful, and thus shows his forgiveness in the best way he can: giving gifts.

-You get tons of apology gifts from him in the coming months. Baskets of the best shower stuff you’ve ever had; a new, better fitted but still innocuous uniform; enough tuna to keep grim satisfied for years (and sweets that you happily keep to yourself).

-It’s so nice, but you start to feel bad. It feels like you’re taking advantage of his guilt, when you’re not really upset at anyone involved anymore.

-You’re welcome at Scarabia any time. None of his dorm members will ever cause you any trouble, and you can dress and act and sound however you want within Scarabia’s walls. 

Vil

-Miss beauty queen himself. We love Vil, we Stan Vil, we adore Vil… 

-Oh my god he’s a pain in the ass though, especially for you.

-He sees through you in an instant.

-Truly, Vil finds you to be more of a little pest than anything.

-You are constantly in trouble, you are magic less, and you decided to needlessly hide your gender.

-The last one is the worst offense in his eyes.

-Vil is someone who does not value gender, but expression. Your gender does not matter as much as your expression, therefore you hiding your expression irks him.

-He’s understanding enough in the fact that he knows you might be doing this to protect yourself, but he finds it stupid and useless, because you’re easy to see through.

-He avoids you, and you avoid him. Simple as that.

-Unfortunately for Vil, you’ve caught Rook’s eye, which means he must sit through many hours of Rook rambling on about his “findings” about you.

-When you tried out for the VDC, he was simply going to turn you and Grim away, but Rook convinced him to give you a chance.

-Rook wanted him to help your reveal your “inner beauty”, though Vil wasn’t sure if you had any of that.

-You wore baggy, horrifically ugly clothing up until winter break. Your hair was constantly a mess. Your skin was poorly taken care of, and the bags under your eyes were as dark as night.

-It almost made him feel bad for you… so despite his better judgement, he decided to invest time in you.

-Vil makes it very clear that he knows what your whole secret is.

-“I am aware of the fact that you are a woman, however, I will continue to use your preferred pronouns since it seems to bring you comfort.”

-He’s very insistent that you allow him to do your skincare AND your makeup whenever you give him the chance.

-Especially when he moves into ramshackle temporarily, he’s very insistent on maintaining your skincare routine.

-He essentially makes your entire nightly routine himself, and is right there over your shoulder making sure you do it right.

-Despite how overbearing it is, you actually make good friends with him through this.

-Being stuck alone in a room with no one but him to talk to forces you two to talk.

-You get to learn why he cares so much about appearances, and he gets to know why you hide to protect yourself.

-“It’s just… easier to pretend, because guys will bother me less that way.”

“I can’t understand why they would bother you. You’ve done nothing to them, so why would they want to do anything to you.”

“That’s the thing, I don’t know either. I just know it’s scary, and I don’t want to deal with it.”

-You move him, honestly. You’re strong even though you’re scared, and that’s beautiful. Thats what true beauty is.

-He helps you embrace your inner self and express that, while still helping you to hide your gender in a way that feels safe.

-You are always welcome at Pomefiore, and you can come to either him or Rook if you have any issues at all.

-It’s like having a big sister, almost.

Idia

-Idia has eyes everywhere.

-Every inch of that campus is (illegally) being monitored by his watchful eyes. 

-When he’s bored in class, he flicks through the cameras to amuse himself — maybe he’ll see someone slip and fall on their ass. That would be funny.

-He’s not really interested in you in particular.

-In fact, he’d like to keep a very far distance between the two of you.

-You’re… intimidating. You’ve fought some of the most powerful mages on campus and won.

-Total final boss energy, not something Idia is interested in being around.

-What he IS interested in is that wittle kitty you’ve got following you around.

-When he’s bored in class, he goes searching for Grim, and where Grim is you are sure to be.

-So, despite his aversion to you, he ends up spending a lot of time watching you.

-He starts to notice… things about you.

-He notices that you seem to put on a tough guy persona around… well… other guys in your class.

-When it’s just you and Grim though? You’re the softest softie he’s ever seen.

-It’s top tier cringe watching you try to being all macho, so he much prefers your more quiet and relaxed self you show in private.

-Seriously though, you’re a TOTALLY DIFFERENT PERSON when you’re alone with certain people.

-EVEN YOUR VOICE CHANGES!!!

-It’s so uber creepy, it’s like a jumpscare every time you drop that fake deep voice.

-If he’s being real, you’ve got a pretty voice. Honestly, you’re really pretty period. Too pretty to be a guy honestly.

-…

-….

-…..HOLY SHIT!!!

-He has to check your medical files to be sure — which he obviously has access to, thanks to having access to everything Ortho has access to.

-Blah blah blah allergies, blah blah blah horrific injuries from overblots, blah blah blah- AH HAH!

-Next to gender you are listed as… transgender man.

-He doesn’t wanna be that weird transphobic incel, but from what he’s seen? He highly doubts that.

-From what he’s seen in his (invasive) watching, you’re definitely doing the troupe of hiding your gender to better fit in.

-He feels like he’s in an anime or something.

-He doesn’t really want to bother you about it — but from watching you, you seem like someone he’d really enjoy being around.

-Ortho also insists that he’d get along with you very well!

-…It’s worth a shot right.

-He tries several times to “bump” into you, which always ends in him skittering away in fear.

-He psyches himself out every time. “They wouldn’t even wanna hang out with a loser like me.” “They’re way too cool for someone as lame as me.” 

-It’s not until you invite yourself to one of tabletop club’s meetings that he’s forced to interact with you.

-He’s really banking on the fact that you’ll be too busy talking with Azul to notice him, but then Azul leaves and its just you and him.

-Him and you…

-Both of you… in total and complete silence.

-…yep… 

-“Uhm, Idia…?”

“yES!?”

“I came here cause I wanted to talk to you, sorry for being so underhanded about it, I just couldn’t get you alone without you running off.”

“AH— I mean, ahem, okay. My bad.”

-You totally cornered him like an evil villain.

-All because you wanted to… be his friend?

-Is he dreaming, going insane perhaps, did HE get isekaied into an alternate universe where he was likable???

-Nope, Ortho just talks him up a lot, and you think his hair is cool. Huh. Kinda lame compared to what he was thinking.

-You guys talk a LOT after that. You exchange numbers and you text him about all sorts of stuff — and he’s actually interested in it!

-You learn that he’s been watching you and Grim for a long time, and while you scold him.

-You think it’s pretty funny that he’s embarrassed about his love for cute things.

-“If you’ve been keeping your eye on me for so long, you must’ve figured out that I’m a girl, right?”

“Yeah, you’re not great at hiding it. That macho guy act is suuuuper lame, you look like a noob lol.”

“Hey! I’m just copying what Deuce told me to do!”

-You guys don’t really see each other face to face very often, but like I said you text a lot.

-Sometimes he’ll text you shit like ‘I saw that, saved it for blackmail.’ After you biffed your shit on the pavement or something.

-When Idia gets more comfortable, you two spend hours on call whenever you get the chance.

-He lends you some of his precious manga, and even gives you an older TV he had laying around so you can watch stuff at ramshackle.

-Sometimes he invites you over to play video games with him and Ortho, and he gets all cocky and proud when you gush about how cool all his tech is.

-And, yeah, Idia definitely forms a little crush on you — but he would do that regardless of your gender. 

-He just likes you a lot, and you can feel safe on campus knowing he’s watching over you when you need it. (Mostly watching Grim, tbh.)

Malleus

-We know that Malleus enjoys… creeping outside of Ramshackle.

-He spends quite a lot of time on your front lawn, therefore, he’s usually in proximity of you.

-However, he is very intimidating!

-As a young woman in a magical world that you are not from, a very tall man with horns is the exact opposite of what you want to be around.

-Besides, you’ve heard the rumors about him — how powerful he is, and how scary he is.

-Malleus, on the other hand, is admittedly curious about you.

-He finds humans in their own right incredibly interesting, but you are not just a regular human.

-You are a human who has no magic and is from another world entirely. 

-You are something he has never once seen in his whole life, so excuse his childish curiosity.

-Still, you’re sort of cleverly avoiding him at every chance you get, and he just can’t quite find the time to talk to you.

-Until one night, you come back rather late and you find him in your yard… again.

-You send Grim in by himself and decide to confront him by yourself, because you are tired of being afraid to fall asleep at night.

-“Hey, you, could you maybe not stare at my house in the middle of the night!”

-Oh. You are quite feisty, and very bold to approach Malleus Draconia with such an aggressive tone.

-“I’m unsure what you mean, I’m simply admiring the architecture.”

“I don’t care WHAT you’re doing, you’re freaking me out! I know you’re supposedly some big scary monster guy, but I need you to STOP being weird outside my house.”

“…My apologies…”

-Malleus is pleasantly surprised at your spunk — he’s never been spoken to like that, he’s excited by it.

-After you yell at him, you let him explain himself, and you realize he is just… really, really bad at socializing.

-He wasn’t watching you, he just really enjoys silence and ramshackle is the quietest place on campus — even with you living in it.

-So, you give him the benefit of the doubt, because he really does just seem like he’s lost on everything around him 90% of the time.

-You don’t hang out with him during the day, but if you happen to see him on your lawn (as he usually is), you go out and hang out with him for a while.

-It makes Malleus happy, because you treat him like a friend. You give him cute nicknames, and you invite him inside for snacks, and you go out of your way to say hello to him when you pass him in the halls.

-He also gets to know more about you, and his curiosities about you and your world get quelled.

-He doesn’t really question anything about you, especially not your gender.

-Gender is hardly important for fae, and you seem confident in your expression, so he has no reason to wonder. Besides, there are far more thrilling things about you than your sex.

-So, you and Malleus start to grow close. So close, in fact, that you can confidently say that he’s one of your closest friends.

-At this point, almost everyone who you want to know about your gender knows. Everyone but Malleus.

-Initially you kept it a secret because you didn’t know how good he was at not talking, but now…

-Now, well, you don’t really have a reason.

-People usually question you at this point, or at least seem suspicious, but Malleus?

-Malleus shows not a hint that he thinks something is up. It’s odd to you, isn’t he supposed to be super smart or something. Maybe he’s just too respectful.

-Regardless, you decided to talk to him about it the next time you see him staring at the gargoyles around campus.

-“Hey Tsunotaro, what’re you up to?”

“Just admiring these gargoyles here, aren’t they fascinating? They were the first few installed in the school, if my memory serves me correctly.”

“They are very cool, but could I ask you something not gargoyle related?”

“What is it, child of man?”

“You know that I’m, uhm, a girl right?”

“Oh. I did not know that, how interesting.”

-He doesn’t understand why you would hide that, but it doesn’t really perturb him that much.

-The most you got was an eyebrow raise, and then he was back to his gargoyles.

-You were pretty satisfied with that, so you figured he wouldn’t tell anyone… and then you hear him loudly talking about it with his friends in Diasomania.

-Sigh… he means well, but he just doesn’t get the social stuff.

-You’re not mad, because pretty much everyone knows at this point, but it still sucks that he’s such a loudmouth.

[norris55s]

reputation - lando norris

pop star reader x lando norris social media au

part two - part three

a/n: lando did a very reputation-like helmet and the hamster in my brain started working. rep's songs are also very lando coded to me. faceclaim is soyeon from (G)I-dle

requests are open, but i may get to them late because uni is kicking my ass!

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f1waggossip

f1waggossip: McLaren’s golden boy seems to be newly single… at least that’s what the streets say, considering his last girlfriend, pop star Y/N L/N, has not been seen in months at the paddock following a very public fall out with her former girl squad, and consequent fall from grace from everyone’s eyes. They seemed in love. What do you think?

landonorrizz: honestly, i never understood the hype for her. she has always been a red flag and dramatic!!

mercedesgarage: i don’t get it lol i don’t follow her, what happened?

455chilli: basically she was friends with other singers, models and actresses and they have recently unfollowed her and exposed her for not being as great as everyone thinks

y/nforever: you mean she had a friend group who turned on her out of nowhere? lol what her ex friends have said is based on jealousy

landostareyes: it seems like they broke up but they were really cute together :// i kinda feel bad but she also seems to be the problem

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landonorris

landonorris: p2 cake babyyyyyyyyy

supremey/n: that is my y/n if i’ve ever seen her

formulaonegirl: so they’re still together

carlandocontent: it could be any girl tbh, it’s been months since lando has even mentioned her

papayaheart: it’s even worse if they’re still together and she just won’t show up to support him in races anymore lol

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y/nusername

y/nusername: Reputation. Out November 17.

Comments have been disabled.

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landonorris

landonorris: Are you ready for it? Reputation out November 17.

y/nlandodefender: nothing has ever been as iconic as a Y/N comeback special helmet i am in tears

landolove: reputation helmet to beat the breakup allegations wasn’t on my bingo card

supremey/n: I KNOW THAT’S RIGHT

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f1waggossip

f1waggossip: Y/N re-debuts at the paddock.

y/naura: ohhhhhhh i know some of y'all are MAD but my girl will stay thriving with the album of the year

softlylando: came back with a bang, goddamnnnn

mclarengirly: lando is definitely bagging a podium for her today!!

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landonorris

landonorris: i like her for her

y/nusername: Even in my worst times, you could see the best in me. 🖤

ferrariheart: shut up this is so cute

norrisreputation: mans really said we've been together all this time LMAO

babyfaceoscar: where is everyone who was calling her a red flag and saying her and lando didn't belong together?

dailylando: been real quiet since reputation dropped

magicy/n: i woulda stfu too after she released something like call it what you want, nevermind lando's promotion helmet LMAO

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y/nusername

y/nusername: The Reputation World Tour officially began and I can’t thank you enough for showing up for me, when I thought I couldn’t even show up for myself. I might make the same mistakes, burn bridges and never learn, but I know I did one thing right: have the best, most loyal fans. Also, it seems right to thank the man who inspired me to write way too many love songs for this album, the king of my heart, landonorris. 🖤

landonorris: i believe i was also called gorgeous and stuff

y/nusername: I am truly never complimenting you again

[lowkeyrobin]

Could I request, what dating sparrow!ben hargreeves would be living a peaceful life possible after season 4 (let’s pretend like it never happened) preference or one shot (you decide)

Peaceful life- like the plans he said to Jennifer in the car, moving away, etcetera

P.s I loveeeeeee your tua and descendants writing keep up the amazing work 🫶🏻🫶🏻



aweee stop this is so cute 💔💔💔 ; also yes went for hc cause no way am I figuring out how to oneshot that shit ; also thank you 🫶🫶 I appreciate it lol ; also if there's supposed to be an anon emoji down there I can't see it 💀💀 it's just an [obj] box, prob cause I have an android and we don't have the same emojis as iphones n shit lmao ; thanks for requesting, hope you enjoy! ; ps idk why I couldn't find that scene so I just kinda made some shit up lmfao

SPARROW! BEN ; runaways

summary ; your perfect life after running away with Ben except it doesn't end the world

warnings ; language

disclaimers ; no jail time for Ben / no s4 at all ig, reader isn't a brellie but refers to them as siblings + as kind of like an add on to them like lila

word count ; 363

masterlist

you and ben, after falling in love during the s3 era, decided you should just run away together

he'd taken a fond liking of you considering you were both so oddly peaceful when it came to just the two of you

the wedding at the end of the world really solidified it

and then you made out!

but after resetting the timeline and losing your powers, there was nothing to really stick around for

considering you wiped out all the marigold and sloane had disappeared (considering she would've never been born or was erased somehow) and your siblings had all gone off to live their lives, it was time you did too

you only knew Ben for like two weeks before you actually fell for each other so learning about one another was really fun

you packed up your bags (or what remained of them) and headed to wherever the back roads could take you

in the car you learned about each other's music taste and your hobbies, and all the sights you wanted to see around the world

the road took you to south carolina

you stayed on the beach for a week and it was honestly really nice

thank god you were able to steal thousands from sparrow-reggies secret stash lol

there you discovered Ben's hatred for water...

but after a week or so you packed up again and headed west

you drove around the country for about three years just sightseeing and living the most you could considering the two of you never really saw anything outside of home

but after a while, you had to settle down somewhere and make a proper life for yourselves

you both craved to be normal people, to pay bills and taxes and hold down jobs, maybe even make a family, as fucked as it was

I mean, trillionaires son moves to the middle of nowhere to live like a normal person? kinda crazy

you built a house on some old farmland on the outskirts of a little town, surrounded by forest and acres of empty land

you call around the family every once in a while, wanting to know how they're doing and what they're up to

ben couldn't really care tho, he only rlly cares for you, the others weirded him out

you couldn't blame him tho since he barely knew them and they knew a different version of him

when you're on the phone, head tilted as both hands are occupied by biscuit mix that you were mixing up, he stands by you with a soft smile on his face, helping you morph them into balls and put them on the tray

think a 90s type of house, very brown, window seats, etc

you live such a sweet ass life man

you sit on the front porch swing and drink coffee while you watch the sunrise

and in winter you cuddle up by the fireplace and watch shitty hallmark movies

you even started a YouTube channel for shits and giggles where you watch awful movies on cable TV and commentate over them because it's funny

you have a calico cat named sorbet

you have a strawberry garden in the backyard that surrounds the porch

and you go out to eat every friday

so many hugs from behind from the other when one is cooking

sweet kisses on the temple as well

so cavity causing sweet

[thecousinsdangereux]

i just recently discovered your soulmate au and i loves it so much. so incredibly intriguing and well written and damn is it hot 🔥 thanks so much for sharing with us. in your mind, does it have a happy ending for them?

also wanted to ask if you'll be checking in to see the big warrior nun announcement coming tomorrow?

Ahhhh thank you! This ask is kind of tragic now given how everything with Warrior Nun ended up going, but I thought I'd use it as a way to share my ideas for the rest of a beggar in the morning, if anyone is interested in learning how it was going to go. Long story short, it was going to have a happy ending. :)

Here's a full outline for what I had in mind for the second half of the fic. Under the cut because it's very detailed in the parts that I'd started writing. Also in case anyone cares about spoilers? At the moment, I don't plan on finishing this fic, but I do plan on returning to writing in general, so guess there's a non-zero chance that I could come back to it. Stranger things have happened.

Beatrice keeps looking for the recipient of the Letter she's been trying to deliver and starts taking trips out into the countryside. She takes Ava's advice and takes to enjoying the journey - stopping into small cafes for lunch rather than eating in the car, taking the long way when it means she can enjoy a new view, etc.

During one of these side quests, she's told about a man who lives way off in the middle of nowhere who has the last name of Reis (the last name of the Letter recipient: Lara Reis), and she tracks him down. He had a sister who had a child with someone who was not her Match. I wanted to go more into what this looks like (and how the church is still anti-abortion in this world, because they think this could potentially ruin a future match, cue eye-roll) but in this case, the woman was basically run out of town. The man directs Beatrice to an orphanage where the child was raised.

This trail eventually goes cold because the orphanage has no records of the girl. They only know she left when she became of age.

The end of chapter six is basically Beatrice being frustrated and taking some 'advice' from Lilith to find someone to fuck hfkjshlk so she goes to the bar and ohhh nooo Ava is working that night, filling in for someone. Ava gets jealous, Bea does some shots, and it's basically a rehash of the lemon drop scene from the show, but hornier. Eventually, they make out, and decide to be friends with benefits.

Chapter 7 was honestly just going to be porn. lol. It's actually some of the first stuff I wrote for this fic - just a page of porn. Beggar came out of a Secret Santa fic exchange, and my friend Alex asked for lots of sex and a soulmate au. So... Chapter 7 was the payoff (part 2). Here's a few disjointed scenes, in case anyone is interested in reading some unedited very E-rated stuff.

A few months go by and all the nuns visit Beatrice for her bday and they're like huh so what's going on here and Beatrice has to pretend that it's not that serious with Ava (lol). I also wanted to do a conversation between Shannon and Beatrice where Shannon talks about the whole Mary thing and loving someone against the will of god (or at the very least, in the very gray areas).

The end of chapter seven is Ava finally talking about her past, which is that Ava doesn't remember hers. She woke up in a hospital without her memories and then spent the next decade traveling around trying to find something that felt like home.

In chapter 8, a lot of time passes, and the fucking continues. Beatrice is kind of losing it, poor girl.

I hadn't exactly decided what was going to happen next, but Ava was going to overstep in some way (or in some perceived way) and Beatrice was going to panic. Either Beatrice was going to have a brief thought about being in love, they were going to have reallyyyy soft sex, or something like that, but either way, Beatrice was going to have to admit she has deeper feelings for Ava than what's allowed allowed, so she goes back to Spain and ignores Ava's texts/calls/etc.

Eventually she realizes she owes Ava closure. She comes back and kind of explains why she's reacted the way she has. She gets more into why she joined the church and it's not for God or the Church itself, but because she does genuinely believe that love itself is holy. She admits she's falling in love with Ava, but she can't break her vows. She believes giving into her feelings would be putting herself above the whole history of love... the sanctity of the entire universe... and to be that selfish would be monstrous.

There's a callback to their early game of three questions, and how Ava still owes Beatrice one answer. Beatrice nearly asks if Ava loves her, but pulls back because she's scared of the answer. They basically break up, but Ava tells Bea to let her know when she's ready to ask her last question.

Beatrice takes it HARD. She buries herself in her work and starts visiting hospitals in various towns. She finds a Spanish doctor and he recognizes the number (or rather, the system behind the number) that is on Letter Beatrice is still trying to deliver. He tells Beatrice she's not looking for a hospital in Portugal, but rather in Spain - one in a small town in Andalusia. He mentions a patient who was in a coma, who woke up without her memories.

At this point, Beatrice obviously knows and she flies to Spain in daze. She visits the hospital, gives them the number, and asks for the name of the patient. When they'd brought the girl in, no one knew where she came from, she didn't have an ID, memories, etc. Nothing except for an old receipt from a restaurant in Portugal. ("Beatrice braces herself for what she already knows, but doesn't want to face.") The nurse at the hospital tells her they used a generic Portuguese name for the girl and it stuck: Ava Silva.

Beatrice visits Cat's Cradle because what else is she supposed to do? How is she supposed to deliver this Letter to Ava, who she's obviously in love with. She talks with Mary and we get the other side of the whole Mary/Shannon thing, and Mary is kind of like, okay, the Letters matter but they don't Matter. Beatrice asks Mary what she would do if she got a Letter (since Mary isn't a nun and could get one, but Shannon never could) and Mary basically says she would throw it away without opening it because she wouldn't want to give Shannon a reason to go self-sacrificial.

Of course, Beatrice doesn't really think this is her call to make. She's going to deliver Ava's Letter. There's this whole scene of her very dramatically and angstily getting ready for the delivery in the Official White Habit, then walking through the town she's come to associate so completely with Ava. And chapter 9 ends.

When Beatrice walks through the doors of the bar, Ava looks up, but doesn't seem surprised, even says 'oh, finally', which is pretty much the last thing that Beatrice expected, but then again, maybe it should have been the first, because Ava is always surprising her, and shouldn't she expect it by now? She asks Ava if she'd known that she was the person Beatrice had been trying to deliver to all along and Ava looks confused at this, like she hadn't considered that at all. "It's not that. I just knew my Letter would be coming because I'd already met you."

Beatrice is like, no no no. That's not how this works. It can't be me. I've been carrying this Letter with me this whole time - before I met you - and the Letters are only sent to a person when they've met their soulmate. And obviously, Beatrice is a nun and can't have a soulmate, etc. etc.

And then Ava says something like this: “Maybe every once in a while, God -- or the universe or whatever it is -- knows that it’ll be really hard to make two people meet organically, so it fudges the rules a little bit. Makes one girl a nun, makes another one hard to find, and sets up the dominos really early on."

And when Beatrice says she's being ridiculous/it's impossible, she says, "I know what’s in that letter. It’s you. I don’t need to open it to know it's you." and "Maybe it’s like some people say and god arranged it all. Fine. Then god chose me for you. Simple. He made me in this exact way, down to my hands and toes and whatever, so that I was perfect for his favorite creation in all of the universe. Because that has to be you."

And: "Or maybe it’s like what those other people say. You know - the past lives reincarnation stuff. Fine, then in our first lives we fell in love and then I found you in the second and third and the five hundredth. I found you and I picked you and I wanted you every time. Or okay, fine, maybe it’s what the the pseudo science people say. Even if those guys are right, I still know. It’s you because at the very start of the universe - at the very beginning of everything - we were the first two bits of something. The first two tiny little sparks. One of those was you and one of them was me. And even when we split off into a million trillion billion infinite pieces, the core of one was you. And the other one was me."

And: "In every religion or in any theory, the world exists so that I can find you again, and the world will do whatever it takes - bend the rules in whatever way - to make sure that at the exact right time, we would meet. And maybe it wasn’t perfect - maybe it was stupid hard for us to get to this point - maybe there was an easier way to make it happen - but I don’t care. Because it worked and I found you and I fell in love with you and I would do anything for that. So yeah. This Letter is telling me that I’m for you. That’s easy. It’s not faith. It’s just a fact.

And: "Besides, whatever’s on that paper? It’s going to be you. If it’s a picture of a butterfly, then it’s going to be you because of that time we went to the dam and one landed on your hand and you said “isn’t the world beautiful?” and that’s when I knew I loved you for the very first time. If it’s the notes to the first bar in At Last, then it’s you, because we used to play it all the time in the bar and I always thought it was fucking stupid to think you'd know like that right away, before everything, but it was the song that played in my head anyways when you walked in the bar that first night. There she is, I sort of thought, a dream that I can speak to."

"It could be any single word or phrase or letter and it would be you, because I love you and I love you so much I see you in every part of this entire world. I love you and I want to keep you with me always, and so you’re always there in my thoughts, slipping over and into everything else and I love it. It makes me love everything I see a little bit more, because it reminds me of you. It makes the world more beautiful."

"So, no offense, but I don't really give a fuck about the Letter. I already know it's going to be you. But I think you need to see it. So you know you’re not as selfish as you think you are."

And Beatrice admits that she wants to be with Ava anyways. Even if it makes her selfish. (Even if it makes her heretical.) Love is holy and what she feels for Ava is holy too, even if it's a sort of holy no one else will ever understand.

I went back and forth about whether they actually SHOULD open the Letter. lol. But I think I eventually settled on that they should, and that when Ava does open it, it's a blank page with like, 7 little dots and Beatrice is like??????????????? But Ava recognizes it instantly and it's the freckles on Beatrice's cheeks, the ones she's always tracing, and she does that again, following the ink on the paper.

Beatrice had been ready to give up her religion for Ava, so getting to keep it, maybe, suddenly is a LOT. She can't quite believe something divine would do something like this for her. But maybe she can believe that something divine would do something like this for Ava.

Later, I wanted Beatrice to have a conversation with Mother Superion. I thought it would be interesting to get into the philosophical bits of it. To debate if Ava could actually be right in her ideas about how this could be, and still fit into what they know about god/Letters/religion. I liked the idea of the conversation ending with neither of them really knowing, and Mother S being like, look girl, you'll never know for sure, but that sounds like faith to me. And Beatrice says no, no this is different, capital F Faith is for the divine. This is just trusting that Ava isn't lying about the freckles thing, or won't get tired of me, or won't find someone else. Etc etc etc. because it's panicking time for Beatrice, suddenly. And Mother Superion just raps her knuckles sort of in the most gentle way she can manage and says "That's love, Beatrice." in the way way someone might say "That's pussy, babe."

Beatrice does leave the church (though she eventually goes back to 'consulting' kind of like Mary). And when she does actually physically leave as well, Ava is waiting outside on a bench. Beatrice asks why she didn't just come inside, and she says something about being a little afraid of churches these days. She did steal god's favorite, after all.

And then they walk off into the sunset, with Beatrice being like wait a second, I thought you said this was all God's plan. And Ava shrugs and says that she would never willingly give Beatrice up, so god might come to her senses and change her mind.

I was going to end it there, but I did consider doing an epilogue as well. Early on in planning I had this idea where, years later, all the nuns regularly come over to the Silvas (because Ava does keep her 'second' name, though she does start to learn more about the Reis family, and meets her Uncle - the dude Beatrice learned about the orphanage from). And on one of these occasions, the nuns are all in white, and they're delivering Beatrice's Letter, which is addressed to Beatrice Silva. In the end, I decided against this, because I liked leaving it more open-ended, but nothing had been set in stone at this point, of course.

So yeah, that was going to be a beggar in the morning. lol. I plotted most of it out before I even started writing, because it wasn't the sort of story you could make up as you went and still tell it well. And I did want to tell the story well! There's a part of me that's sad that I wasn't able to, but I do think it was worth writing what I did. I really loved seeing people realize that Lara was Ava, even as early as chapter 5! And I also loved people coming up with theories about how Avatrice would be endgame. Some of them were honestly really good and maybe better than mine fhdskjhfd I had one person be like PLEASE let Ava's Letter be for someone else so they can metaphorically spit in god's face and honestly that was valid.

I don't know if anyone is going to bother to read this very, very long reply to an ask that doesn't actually ask for any of this, but it honestly just feels nice to put all these ideas together and 'complete' the story. Even if I've done it in the most half-assed way possible I am so sorry fhadskjlfhldsj

[sugarlywhispers]

s.sanemi x reader (fem) | time-travel!reader x hashira!sanemi

a.n; it's placed somewhere before the confrontation with Muzan lol honestly, probably a lot of things are OC cuz i’m still catching up with the anime and i haven’t read the manga, sowy 👉👈🥺 — but i had this idea in my head that’s bugging me and i had to write it lol a.n2; this MONSTER was split into two 🙃 — next part will be posted next week. 😉 i decided to cut it there cuz next part is gonna be DARK and sad, probably not for everyone. so if you just like fluff, you can enjoy this part no worries~ next part is for the babies like me who loooove some tearing, ugly-cry angst with characters' deaths😜 (not Sanemi tho, that man will not die in ANY of my writings💚)

It’s been several months. Months since you appeared out of nowhere in this world. 

Nobody knows why, but you haven’t been the only one. Alongside you, two others appeared. A little boy of six years old, named Riko and another boy of seventeen years old called Minato. None of you have ever met before you three appeared in the middle of the woods, right in the middle of a drawn pentagram on the ground.

You didn’t understand what was happening or why, yet your instincts screamed for you to protect them. And that’s what you did. The moment the monster appeared –of course, at the moment you didn’t know it was a demon– your body moved to stand in front of them to protect them, even though you didn’t know what to fucking do.

To sum it all up, the altercation ended with you pretty harmed, dangerously wounded, and in high levels of pain. For a moment, you thought you were in a dream –actually, a fucking nightmare. But the pain was too real for your mind to fake it. You lost consciousness holding the two boys in your arms.

When you finally woke up three days later, you were in what looked like a hospital gurney. Your wounds had been taken care of and the pain was low considering what you have been through; but still there, making you grimace here and there when you tried to move. The two boys flew their arms around you in a hug when your eyes opened and you smiled, glad and relieved that they were okay.

A man with black shoulder length hair and a scar running down from his forehead til under his eyes was standing a few meters with another one next to him. This other one looked bigger, taller and muscular, with spiky black hair and a prominent scar running horizontally across his forehead. Both of them looked… strange. They weren't looking anywhere specifically, but you knew their attention was on you three.

That first man introduced himself as Ubuyashiki Kagaya and he explained what had happened. Including why, or better explained how you came to be there. I mean, their way of dressing and talking said much. He also explained what the term Hashira meant, introducing the guy next to him as one named Himejima Gyomei.

The demon that encountered you and the two boys was considered an Upper Rank demon, still not part of the Twelve Demon Moons, but just as powerful; able to manage time and dimension. That way it could bring humans who didn’t exist in this era and eat them, smartly going completely unnoticed by the Hashira.

“There hasn’t been a demon able to do this for centuries… I’m glad we were able to put an end to his harm, before Muzan got more interested in its power. And that’s mostly thanks to you,” Ubuyashiki had said to you with a small bow in your direction; the other guy, the Hashira, also followed suit with a bow, lower to show his respect.

The girls standing close to the door in silence gasped at the action of the men, following and bowing even deeper.

You weren’t that stupid to not comprehend that what was happening was something important.

What he explained next was that thanks to something you did, another of the Hashira was able to find where you were and helped you three just in time. What exactly you did to make this happen was not quite clear to you. Or more specifically, Ubuyashiki didn’t detail it willingly. For now.

He explained everything else quite thoroughly, patiently even when Riko would ask something more than twice. He looked like a smart kid, but you could perceive how difficult it was for him to assimilate the fact that this was another world, another time period. Truth is always hurtful. In addition to that, there was no way of going back to where you three belonged. You couldn’t avoid caressing his head each time he asked again something, trying your best to comfort him. He hadn’t cried yet in front of you, and you were preparing yourself for when it happened. You wanted him to feel that he wasn’t alone; by the way Minato also patted the kid’s back and held your hand, you knew he felt the same way.

That same night, when the three of you were alone, you did have a talk with them. You had to make it clear for them to understand the main theme here: You three were in another universe, another world. And there was most likely no way back home.

Minato, being the eldest, understood. He looked of course a bit down, but he accepted the circumstances. Riko, on the other hand…

“So… I’m not goin’ to see my mommy again?” His question broke your heart.

Both your hands cupped his cute chubby cheeks, thumbs caressing in comfort, “I’m sorry, buddy.”

The tears were there in your eyes, yet you refused to let them free. Minato though had to look elsewhere to not let the kid see his tears.

“So… If the three of us are here together, does… Does that make us friends?”

“Oh, sweetheart…” You picked him up, sitting him over your crossed legs and hugged him, “Of course we are! We can even be family if you’d like.”

“I would like that…” His little voice broke and you hugged him tighter, rocking him side to side. Minato sat closer to you and joined the hug. 

“We are going to be okay.”

It was a promise. You didn’t know if it was possible to promise something like that, but you did. You didn’t say it out loud, but you promised you would take care of them with all your being.

This is how your life in this new world began.

So, after a month, you have already settled in the Butterfly Mansion, helping Aoi, Kanao and the other girls with the injured demon slayers that came from time to time. You decided you have had enough with just one encounter with demons –thank you very much. Instead, you preferred helping the ones who needed after those encounters. It hadn’t been your choice completely, but after one boy called Kamado Tanjirou came pretty wounded, with burns around his body that no one knew how to treat due to the infection they had –not even Shinobu– you decided to step in. Your grandma had taught you a lot about herbal medicine, her also being a certified doctor specializing in dermatology contributed to the knowledge. It took you two days of constantly cleaning and applying the ointment you have prepared for his burns and staying by his side to control his fever and symptoms. He woke up on the third day and everyone hugged you in thankfulness. After that, Shinobu asked you to help her to run the manor alongside the rest of the girls. Of course, you said yes.

By the time Tanjirou woke up, you had already been told all about who the boy and Nezuko were. Their history was kind of harsh and admirable too. And after meeting the other boys that joined too, Agatsuma Zenitsu and Hashibira Inosuke, it didn't take much for Minato to follow their steps of becoming a demon slayer.

You were a bit worried if you’re honest. Riko and Minato had become the closest thing to a family, little brothers, in this time for you. Even though Minato was agile and hectic, you couldn’t avoid feeling worried and afraid something bad would happen. The topic even brought a discussion between you two that ended in him yelling at you, “You are not my fucking mother or my sister!”

It hurt. His words had hurt you, however, you could see the regret in his eyes after he said them. He was still a teenager, you could understand his swing moods.

“Apologize, now!” Tanjirou yelled back at Minato just as he entered the kitchen, where you and Minato were discussing. “She might not be related by blood to you, but she almost died for you when you appeared here. She has cared for you and Riko more than anyone since you have been here... Y/N might as well be like your sister by now.”

The moment had been tense, yet Minato accepted Tanjirou’s words and apologized with his head hanging low before leaving the room. You nodded in Tanjirou’s direction thanking him and then sighed. 

That same night you spoke with Minato, both more calm, while sitting outside watching the night sky.

“It wasn’t my intention to–”

“I know, Y/N. It was my mistake. I shouldn’t have yelled at you like that… or said what I said,” he admitted, playing with a little ball in between his hands. He wasn’t looking at you, but you could sense his regret. “Tanjirou’s right, you know… After everything we went through, you are like my sister. You are the only family I have now.” 

You felt your eyes fill with emotional tears at his slightly broken voice and one of your hands flew immediately to his shoulder and squeezed it in comfort.

After a moment of silence, and with all the worry swimming at the mouth of your stomach, you said, “If… If being a demon slayer is what you really want to be… then you have my support.” Minato looked at you, face all lightened up with shining eyes that showed how excited he was. “Only one condition…”

“Yes, anything!” He interrupted lively, kneeling next to you and holding your hand.

You looked at him directly in his eyes, before saying, “There’s nothing braver than admitting when is time to fight and when is time fly. Promise me you will choose what’s braver.”

He looked down for a moment, assimilating what your words truly meant, and when he looked back at you he nodded, firm and sure, accepting your condition. You patted his cheek lovingly before he stood and ran inside, probably excited to tell Tanjirou, Zenitsu and Inosuke the news.

You stayed there for a few more minutes. You couldn’t shake the bad taste off your mouth at the idea, still, you took a deep breath to calm your nerves. When you finally got up to walk inside and turned, you saw Shinobu standing at the doors with a smile on her face that made you smile back.

“It will never go away…”

“What?”

She put a hand over your shoulder, reassuringly, once you stood in front of her, “The feeling that he’s on the verge of death.”

Her crude words made you recoil a bit, not expecting them at all. But she kept talking.

“With this mission we have, of fighting against demons, we can’t promise anything. We never know what might happen and would be just cruel to do so, for us and for our loved ones. Yet, you didn’t make him promise that he would be back alive. You made him promise to choose braver,” she smiled again, closing her eyes, showing content. “I think that’s a loving way to ask someone to choose life quite wisely… and unique. He will remember that now every time he is on that verge. He will remember you, and I think that’s the only comfort for you to hold onto to subside that feeling and breathe. He will choose braver.”

The tears ran down your cheeks freely and the squeeze on your shoulder suddenly turned into a hug.

Shinobu has become one of your closest friends since then. Sadly, she wasn’t around often, she is a Hashira after all. But when she was around, you enjoyed it the most. Shinobu taught you many things about what she did and her techniques, but always left you wanting to know more.

You also watched Tanjirou, Zenitsu and Inosuke train some days, now joining them too was Minato. Each of the experienced three boys had their own styles and their own techniques. But none other caught your attention quite intently as much as Tanjirou’s. With some sways of his katana, they would change colors. It was almost imperceptible, but you could see it. Sometimes, they were blue and white, which reminded you of water waves. Other times, they were a mix of deep red, yellow and pink; almost as if there was lava dancing around him and his katana. You became pretty curious about those particular moves. But you didn’t dare to ask him, so you kept to your work.

Now it’s been six months, and by this time, you’re considered a great healer. Especially after a huge attack that left you taking care of and healing almost half the Hashira men.

It had been chaotic that morning. Aoi came running to your bedroom, profusely apologizing for waking you up so early and begging for you to hurry towards the infirmary section. You dressed as quickly as you could and sprinted.

Three of the Hashira men, alongside other demon slayers and corps, were being treated by the girls, Shinobu included. She barked orders here to there to everyone as she tried to hold down a convulsing big man. You recognized him immediately. Himejima Gyomei.

“What happened?” You quickly acted, helping her to keep him still, or at least to try not to let him fall from the gurney.

“A fuckin’ demon is what fuckin’ happened! What sort of stupid question is that?!” A guy yelled from the gurney next to Himejima.

That’s the first time you met Shinazugawa Sanemi.

You were surprised by how tall and muscular he was, the gurney looked too small for him –just like for Himejima. Yet who of the guys wasn’t? Almost all of them were big and bulky. Yet Shinazugawa somehow looked different to you. He had spiky short white hair that made you think not everyone could pull that look and still be considered handsome. Everyone but him. And he had large almond-shaped eyes with purple irises that, for a split of a second, left you out of breath. Well, that could have been more thanks to the force you were using in trying to maintain Himejima as still as possible for Shinobu, right? However, it's the amount of scars on his face that got your attention. He looked like he had done this job for years. And when one of the girls helped him out of his bloodied haori and shirt, his body said so too. Plus the new ones. That was kind of… sad.

“Let go of me, idiot! I’m fuckin’ fine! Go help the others!”

Yep, no, he was a douchebag.

You choose to not answer him back and focus on immobilizing one of Himejima’s arms so Shinobu could finally inject him with some antidote and he stopped thrashing around. Of course, all of this under the yells, protests and insults of the guy on the adjacent gurney.

Once the big Hashira was calmed, Shinobu sighed tiredly looking at the guy behind you, who was protesting quite loudly. She looked at you, shrugged, and turned to help the other hashira, Obanai Iguro.

“Fuckin’ let go!”

You turned around to face him. Shinazugawa Sanemi was half standing from the gurney, pulling back and forth his own haori with the little –and completely terrified– girl who was only trying to do her job and heal him. And at that, you completely lost it.

“Enough!” You exclaimed firmly at him, catching his immediate attention. And everyone’s. “Fucking listen to me, we are trying to work here and your yells are distracting and annoying. You are bleeding profusely from your shoulder, which means you’re going to pass out at any moment now if you don’t fucking stop moving around and get stitched up. So, I suggest you shut the fuck up and leave so we can do our job in peace. Or shut the fuck up and let the poor girl heal you so your stupidly annoying ass doesn’t die and can get the hell out of here. Either way, stay fucking quiet before I put you to sleep!”

Silence. No one said a thing or moved for a whole minute, expectantly. Of what exactly? You’re pretty sure of Shinazugawa’s answer and reaction.

Your eyes were directly connected to his, both sets firing daggers at each other, trying to win a battle just the two of you were part of. It’s heavy, the energy around felt charged and ready to explode at any second. And you were ready for it. This was your place, your job, and he was being a problem to everyone with his annoying remarks. He had to understand that you were the boss here.

And he did.

Everyone was witness to how Shinazugawa Sanemi sat back down on his gurney, grumbling under his breath, but didn’t say any more as he let the girl finally attend to his wounds. Two seconds later, he lost consciousness. You rolled your eyes, approaching and helping Kiyo with the hot-blooded Hashira.

After that day, everyone showed deep respect towards you. You have tamed the Shinazugawa Sanemi, the stubborn and wild Wind Hashira, and that by no means was something small. The word had even spread towards the Master, Ubuyashiki Kagaya, who Shinobu told you had laughed so hard over what happened that he cried.

Therefore, from that moment on, every time the hashira gets hurt after confronting some powerful demons, you are the one sent to heal him.

Because you’re the only one he doesn’t protest against or yell at when you’re treating him. He doesn’t even speak to you more than necessary. He went from insulting your guts one day to not even looking at you on the other. It is weird, but quite honestly you preferred it that way.

Even after several years have passed, he still hasn't said more than necessary whenever you treat him. Only informing you of his condition for you to do your job. But the moments only the two of you share during his healing are spent in silence. However, there is one time he actually says something different.

You are applying an ointment on his forearm due to a burn pretty similar to the one you once treated on Tanjirou, very concentrated on your actions. Gently, you hold the inner side of his forearm as your fingers from the other hand apply the cool and fresh ointment over the burn in slow, tender circles. Shinazugawa never moves or makes any sound when you are healing him, which you find weird considering the deep wounds he sometimes appears with for you to heal. But even though he mostly never reacts, you still treat him with gentleness. You know his wounds must hurt.

You have been like that for a couple of minutes, doing your job while he stays silent. Until he speaks.

“H-happy birthday,” Shinazugawa suddenly mutters, making you look up at him surprised. You then look towards the old clock hanging high on the opposite wall, which marks the end of the day and the beginning of the new one. It is indeed your birthday.

Your eyes travel back at him, but he is looking the opposite way, his typical grumpy expression on his face. You smile slightly.

“Thank you.”

He simply answers with a “mmh”, acknowledging your thankfulness, and proceeds to not say anything else. You try not to smile more than the small curve of your mouth, knowing fully any other sound will cause another argument with this temperamental man. He was leaving with your permission in the morning due to an important mission. Of course, under strict conditions, he would have to travel with the ointment and apply it at least four times a day. He agreed, so you were actually showing him how to use it. The few small pots with the ointment were ready wrapped in a cloth over his bed.

After telling him to send Sorai in case he needed some more, you bow slightly goodbye before leaving the room.

The next morning when you wake up, you find a red benibara flower on your bedside table. Somehow, you know it’s Shinazugawa’s birthday present for you and you can’t help but smile throughout the whole day.

The worry though is still latent.

It’s been years already and the worry you feel is still ineluctable every single time you have to treat any of the hashira or the demon slayers. But especially with Shinazugawa. He is a freaking Hashira –and one of the strongest in your opinion– which means he goes on the most difficult and dangerous missions. He wins mostly every time, but he also breaks his own body with each of them.

You always worry for Shinazugawa, you can’t avoid it. It’s almost like a string always pulling you towards him. Whenever something big happens and everything is chaos around, your body moves on its own and doesn't stop until you find him. Sometimes he’s alright; when your eyes find each other he nods, a sign that he is okay and that you can go and attend to others. Other times he’s a mess; gravely injured, bleeding profusely til he almost loses consciousness. Those times your whole being only focuses on him and you don’t leave his side until he’s completely out of danger.

You don’t know how to explain it. You feel… like you need to protect him every time you look at him.

Is this… some kind of… love?

You snort, sipping carefully from the little cup of red tea you decided to enjoy in the manor’s garden. It’s barely morning and everything is quiet and peaceful. Mornings like this help you analyze things in your head you mostly don’t speak to anyone. Shinazugawa Sanemi is one of those.

How could this be love when you barely speak to each other? Clearly, it’s just infatuation, right? The man is hot –you have eyes, for god’s sake. He is a man who walks with a purpose, filled with a confidence you have never seen before. That’s very attractive.

Now, he opens his mouth and he turns into an ugly ogre. It makes you want to slap your forehead in disbelief. He’s always yelling and bad-mouthing at someone, right in their face. Always threatening to kill, destroy, and many other harsh threats. It completely infuriates you when he treats the training corps –who are too young in your opinion, just kids– like that too.

Even so, he never treats you the same way. Shinazugawa hasn’t even raised his voice at you again since that first encounter where you yelled back. Why? Why does he never treat you like the others?

“MISS Y/N! MISS Y/N! Master Sanemi is in need of your attention! Hurry!” Sorai crows loudly at you, appearing out of nowhere after the first shine of the rising sun appears on the horizon, catching you by surprise just when you are about to walk inside the manor.

“What?! Where? There isn’t any–”

And just as you’re about to finish what you’re saying, Shinazugawa falls from the air. His stane is as cool as always. One leg stretched behind him while the other flexed, his forearm supporting himself after the fall in that one as the green residue from his technique disappeared with the wind he brought. You frown, he doesn’t look injured, his clothes aren’t even thorn or bloody. You could have even bet he just appeared like that and in that position just to brag about his skills.

But he doesn’t move from his position nor look up, which makes you feel something’s weird. “Shinazugawa?” You look more intently, eyes really focusing on his persona, and then you see it. The controlled and almost imperceptibly trembling in his whole body. Oh, his breathing technique is actually what is keeping him so still. Meaning, something’s definitely wrong.

You drop your cup of tea and run towards him when he lets his katana fall to the ground and his body sways a bit to the side, almost losing his balance. 

“Go find someone inside!” You yell at Sorai, who obeys you immediately and flies inside the manor.

Your arms surround the hashira’s torso when you approach him, helping him stand by putting his arms over your shoulders. You realize then how actually big this man is and as he stands, he towers completely over you.

“Hey, I got you,” you whisper, looking up at his face with both of your bodies impossibly close.

His eyes look down and find yours, but they look quite disoriented, and you know he’s minutes away from losing consciousness.

Shinazugawa lets a smart snort out of his nose and a crooked grin flutters on his face for a split second, which, if the action hasn't made you realize the blood inside his mouth and worry, you would have thought that expression was sort of cute, attractive even. But fucking blood is coming out of his mouth!

“You got me?” He whispers softly, tenderly even. He’s clearly in some sort of delirious state and that worries you even more.

“Yeah, I do,” he nods at your answer, his forehead then resting over yours and closing his eyes for a moment; but you decide that’s a bad idea when his trembling legs and your weak strength make you both sway back and forth, unstable. “Hey, no, don’t. Don’t close your eyes. Look at me.”

He obeys instantly, taking a long deep breath as he stands straight and more firmly on his feet. It’s clear his technique is the only thread that keeps him conscious enough. His eyes now look more direct at yours, after several consecutive blinks that help him focus.

“Good, good,” you repeat, putting all the strength you can around his torso as you press him against you. A smile then spreads on your face after looking down at your bodies stuck together. “You look like trash,” you joke looking up at him.

He lets out a breathed laugh followed by a grunt of pain and another sway in both your stances that almost makes you both fall, “Don’t– Fuck! Don’t make me… laugh…”

“Sorry, sorry… I’m sorry!” You cry worried, cursing yourself for your stupidity. He’s barely holding up and you go and joke about it.

He moves one of his hands then to hold the back of your head and makes you hide your face in his neck. It feels… odd. The tenderness in which he moved you. You could swear it’s his way of telling you to not worry. However, you think he’s doing it more for him, to ground himself. You then feel his chin rest over your head.

“Breathe, Sanemi. Breathe…”

You feel him take another deep inhale of air and hold it for a moment, before slowly releasing it in very tiny puffs of air.

“That’s it. You’re doing great,” you praise, and the slightly more firm grip from his hand on the back of your head is answer enough that he’s listening to you. “You’re okay. You’re going to be okay…”

You promise. Even though you didn’t say it out loud explicitly, you did promise.

And, after eight days of constant attention during the day, sleepless nights sitting next to his bed and caring for his wounds very thoughtfully when he finally wakes up, you can’t help but really cry.

You have fallen asleep, sitting in that rough wood chair next to his bed, body bending forward with your arm used as a pillow over a small space on the side of the bed, right next to his hand. It is what actually woke you, his big hand patting weakly and softly on your head. You sat back uptight, eyes opened wide as he blinked several times, adjusting to the daylight entering the infirmary.

Shinazugawa then looks at you, a tiny curve on his mouth resembling a smile on his face, “You do got me, huh?” His voice sounds hoarse, painfully thick.

And that’s all it takes for you to start sobbing and weeping like god damn kid. You hide your face in your hands, letting everything out as you bend over again towards the bed. His hand goes back to patting your head softly, comfortingly. He never asks you to stop crying; in fact, his touch feels more like he’s encouraging you to let it out. And you do.

Relief finally settles in your body… just as that other feeling that warms your chest and makes your body shudder with goosebumps at his gentle touch.

Is this really… love?

[love-byers]

can you speak more on your experience becoming a byler cos this always fascinates me, especially when it's people who were once milevens thanks!

absolutely, i love talking about this lol

so i watched stranger things 1 when it came out in 2016 & i was 12. my media literacy wasn't great at the time, and like most people i liked mike and el's little romance. but i did think their kiss came way too fast and kind of out of nowhere. wasn't a fan of that. i thought it would've been better if they didn't get to kiss and made both the audience and mike and el wait. and i was like "uhhh how does she even know what a kiss is" but whatever

then s2 came out, i was 13. i LOVED mike and will's relationship, maybe even more than i liked mike and el's. when mike grabbed wills hand i VIVIDLY remember thinking "they would be such a good couple, but they'd never do that. oh well!". at this point in my life i was realizing my sexuality and was super into queer media. i say that just so you know i was receptive to queer representation and enjoyed it. but to me at that time, i saw stranger things for the massive success it was, famous enough that they'd never have a main character be queer. it just wasn't a thought in my mind that it could ever happen.

i loved the snowball scene and thought mike and el were super cute. i remember thinking "wow their bond must be so deep and they take each other very seriously. it's them against the world"

i was 15 and BEYOND pissed when s3 came out and it was clear mike and el were reduced to comedly relief. i wanted their relationship to be lovable like it was in s2. i hated how mike became so unlikable when he was with el when he was previously shown to be so loyal and caring. and above all, i hated how it was like mike and will's relationship in 2 never happened. i remember thinking "wtf mike?? do you not remember how protective you were of him before?? how close you were??" at the time i thought it was bad writing and it honestly turned me off of s3 and i didn't finish it for like 2 years.

when i finally did i was a bit confused. i remember watching the rain fight and thinking "wow that felt more like a breakup than mike and el's actual breakup" it just struck me how sad it was compared to the breakup. but my heteronormativity towards stranger things was so strong that i didn't even clock will being gay until someone pointed it out for me. and i definitely didn't clock that will was in love with mike. i remember noticing how mike and will were always together and positioned next to each other like jancy and lumax were. but for some reason, and i really don't know why, i just didn't really absorb it.

what really surprised me was the s3 finale, like the final goodbye scenes. during mike and will's i saw mikes reaction to will saying "not possible" and i was like.....hm. he sure seems happy. but whatever

mike and el's goodbye scene just confused me. i didn't understand why mike acted like he didn't know what she was talking about when he spent all season trying to say i love you, i didn't understand why mike didn't close his eyes or kiss her back when he spent all season trying to say i love you, i didn't understand why el walked away and winced, i didn't understand why mike looked like that when she walked away AFTER HE SPENT ALL SEASON TRYING TO SAY I LOVE YOU, and i didn't understand why the music sounded so happy as if NONE OF IT HAPPENED. and when mike hugged karen i was like, why does he look like he just realized something??? wtf is happening???

i didn't realize there was any romance between mike and will until s4. actually, i heard people saying will was gay and in love with mike and i was like "pshh no way". then i saw the trailer where el says will likes someone and i was like "oh my god they did make him in love with mike". but again, for some strange reason, i felt like it was a decision made solely for s4. VERY stupid of me.

here i go more in depth about my specific reactions to s4 scenes but theres one i didn't mention and it's the way mike looks will up and down when he says "cool". i was like "uhh that was kinda flirty..."

but i finished vol 1 thinking about byler a little more. i heard there was a masterdoc about them so i read it, and for the first bit of it i didn't really believe any of it. then i saw the eyewitness parallel and i was like HHHHWHAAAAAAAT???????????????????? i VIVIDLY remember thinking "how is this possible?? didn't this come out of nowh--" and then it ALL hit me in the face. my jaw literally dropped. it's like i rewatched all of st in 3 seconds and everything made sense. the eyewitness parallel finally made me accept the writers would have gay characters and romance, and that was all it took. i never went back. mike and will's bond in s2, the decline of mike and el's relationship, mike and will's tension in s3, mikes reaction to not possible, mike reaction to el saying i love you, all of it made sense. at that point i was like 17 and my media literacy and love/skill for writing had grown a lot. the very first tiktok i made about byler was about how it doesn't make sense for the writers to build this up for so long just for it not to go anywhere, because it doesn't at all. and things just grew from there. i bled blue and yellow and i still do!

it was almost entirely heteronormativity keeping me from seeing byler earlier, so i talk about that a lot. because once you remove that, EVERYTHING makes perfect sense

[scribbleseas]

in love & in war: the one where he meets you

Description: Join Ciel, the Earl of Phantomhive, as he embarks on one of the most difficult challenges of his professional life: getting you to fall in love with him in order to become the next chairman of TransAtlantica— your father’s vast shipping empire.

Warnings: The reader’s opinions are a bit old-fashioned, and they don’t reflect my own! Besides that, I’m sure there will be some explicit content down the line, but honestly, this story is much more romcom than our usually scheduled programming. It’s just a silly palette cleanser in season for Valentine’s Day.

Author’s Note: Hi! You guys expressed that you guys like more frequent posts, and I’ve reached a bit of a roadblock on my main Ciel fic right now. I thought I would write up a quick beginning to a potential drabble series! If you guys are interested in this premise, let me know! It’s fun to write such chill stakes content for once lol. Also, this isn’t based off a particular request! I’m still playing with my ideas from those, and at this point, I can confidently say you guys are getting either a one shot or a 1-3 part series based on one. Thank you all for submitting, and feel free to keep them coming.

Happy Reading!

- Dan

| NEXT DRABBLE ⇒

MASTERLIST

In Conference

Late May, 1895

Your life was nowhere near as easy as it seemed.

Perhaps, the average onlooker might see you and presume that the expensive jewels wrapped around your neck and your fingers were the most burdensome aspect of your privileged life. Or perhaps they might have thought it would be the pinch from your stately heels or the strain from a brilliant, yet strategic, permanent smile.

Your business smile. Your future-Countess-of-Richmond smile.

But they couldn’t have been more wrong.

This very moment was exact proof of that— you were in the midst of your world collapsing. The abject shock rattling through your mind was akin to a nightmare. Your eyebrows pulled together in a contentious pout, the horrified look you used to get away with your most childish crimes from your parents.

“Marriage? Simply not.” You begged, alreadying feeling your will to fight waver under your father’s tired stare, your mother’s pained grin. “I’m only—”

“Of perfect age to begin looking for a potential partner. 22 is well past ready, I would say,” your mother answered for you.

“I would be— but—” you sputtered like a fish out of water only to inhale deeply through your nose. You needed to collect yourself. Negotiate thoughtfully and logically. That was the only way to get yourself out of this.

“Speak with intent, Y/n,” your father interjected boredly, retraining his attention on the business reports he was reading. He fixed his glasses, pushing them further up the bridge of his nose.

Speak with intent. You knew those words well. They were your solace, the lighthouse in the storm that came with childhood temperament. Your father, no matter the cause of your distress, would answer: Speak with intent.

“Right,” you cleared your throat apologetically, glancing down at your hands as they sat clasped in your lap. “Sincerest apologies, sir.”

Your father hummed, eyebrows jumping a fraction of a centimeter. He picked up his pen and scribbled his signature at the bottom of the report. Your mother’s hand fell on the nape of his neck to make him turn his gaze back up at you. He hesitated before doing so, waiting to click a stamp onto the signed report.

“I do not wish to marry,” you enunciated your words carefully, confidently. “At least, not yet,” you added, now catching your father’s attention for the blunder. “I’ve yet to meet someone I love,” you felt your face redden, a desire to run back to your room threatening to overtake your fortitude. You were only so strong under your father, the Earl of Richmond’s deliberation stare. It struck fear into the other side of conference tables, lecture halls, and courtrooms. And now, across his desk at his only daughter.

Before your father could remind you that love wasn’t the most important aspect of a successful marriage, your mother interjected gently.

“What about the Duke of Clarence’s son, Antonio? He seemed to like you,” she prompted. Wrongly. You’d danced with Antonio at the Summer Solstice gala that the Pembroke family threw annually. The man opted to use the waltz’s entirety to brag about his family’s Italian vineyards and his love for agriculture. And, of course, his admiration for your father’s entrepreneurial genius. His shipping empire, TransAtlantica, had just successfully fortified shipping systems in all of the states; a step forward from simply cycling through all major ports along the east coast.

“He doesn’t love me,” you complained, “he loves TransAtlantica. He’d much prefer to marry our family corporation!” Antonio was suitable. He was decent, but that’s all he truly was to you. It’s all he ever could be.

You met your mother’s eyes pleadingly, and she pursed her lips, fully knowing the next words out of your mouth. You had a deal. From a young age, you knew the Richmond family, the Y/l/n line, respected contracts more than all else. Since you turned 17, you had one signed by all three parties and dated.

Your mother sucked in a breath through her teeth. “I remember the deal,” she said, taking a moment to consider her own words. The corners of her lips twitched as if she was attempting to hide her amusement with you. She understood— her own father, your grandfather, was just as militant, stiff with professionalism. Promises were negotiations with terms, signatures, and stamps. There were no arguments this way. “Dearest,” she addressed your father, the hand that was on the back jumping to his shoulder, “you do as well.”

“Do you?” You challenged, indignantly crossing your arms. “I request you restate the terms, mother.”

“If we are to pressure you into marriage before you feel ready, you must consent to the courting party,” your father took the liberty of answering gruffly. He squared his shoulders, regarding you purposefully— equal parts exhaustion and respect for your endurance. He cultivated it, after all. It was a fire that burned in your family for generations, as sacred as a temple flame.

“Yes,” you affirmed, “and so, I must choose the man I wish to be with.”

“With respect to your titles— no one below your station. And he must be chosen by the end of this courtship season,” your father added, negotiating. He tilted his head, analyzing your next move.

You knew of the first term since you were a child. You even remembered the exact day you learned them. You were a young girl, a little younger than seven. A young commoner boy had attempted to hand you a rose. Your maid at the time had scolded him for standing in the way of a noble family, since he had stepped out in front of you. It was a discernible moment, truly.

As for your father’s second term… you were unconvinced such a thing could be done.

“The end of the courtship season is in four months,” you replied, frowning. You were sure you met most eligible men in your social class. How were you to form a genuine connection in such little time? Even if you couldn’t find love per se, you still wanted to find someone you were compatible with.

“If we reach that deadline and you find no one, we can talk about it,” your mother answered. “And, you must allow me and your aunt to fix you on outings with suitors we like.

“Fine. Only if Daphne joins me,” you replied, knowing fully well that you weren’t allowed anywhere without your handmaiden present.

. . .

Next week

Your mother was sure not to waste any time in beginning to schedule supervised outings with a different well-educated and ennobled man that was within the appropriate age constraints. You’ve never had such a boring week, brutally torn away from the studies you adored so much.

“—And we’ve got another vacation home down in Tuscany, I think,” the Viscount Lineford’s son concluded, taking a peremptory drink out of his tea. He was dressed crisply in beige trousers that rolled up past his ankle and low leather shoes. His sterling watch sparkled in the spring sun.

You fought a building yawn that tempted the back of your throat, determined to hide your exhaustion with the man. It was a good effort, but you certainly weren’t impressed.

“That must be incredible,” you answered absently. “It must be such a lovely foreign getaway for the Lineford family,” you grinned diplomatically, blind to the horror that twisted his — you didn’t care to remember his name, unfortunately — face.

“Foreign? Excuse me Lady Y/n, but my family traces far back into Italian culture that we are practically Roman…” he started, only for you to interject.

“Will you just excuse me, please?” You struggled to keep the desperation out of your face, calmly searching for your supervisor. She was meant to be sitting at a table nearby, merely ensuring that your outing remained within polite societal constraints. More importantly, Daphne served as your escape when your potential suitors proved most unbearable. All you needed to do was subtly tilt your fan to your left ear and the woman would always scramble over to you with an excuse to steer you out of any scenario you found distasteful.

Such as this one.

Daphne never normally left your side, a realization that allowed worry to creep into your tone. “I’m unsure where my maid went, and I would like to fetch her,” you replied, standing and shouldering your small day bag over your shoulder.

“I’m sorry?” He asked, chuckling with bitter disbelief at your rudeness. Ladies were supposed to be demure and polite. You were impatient and honest, a product of an Earl knowing that his daughter was the object of his legacy. Your father trained you as he would a son, and your tutors followed in suit. “Surely you’re joking; this is the middle of our tea.”

Her pocketbook and her sweater weren’t even sitting on the chair she had been occupying, causing you to blink at the empty table in disbelief.

“No, I’m not. I think something might be wrong,” you shouldered past the man, stepping between other individuals sitting at the common tables in the park.

“Fine, you aren’t worth it anyway!” He called at your back, but the words hardly registered with you.

The area was rather common for courting pairs to visit in the early spring. However, it could also be populated with…criminals. “Excuse me,” you mumbled, quickly walking down the paved pathway through the greenery to the main sidewalk, the London pavement heavy with pedestrians. The streets were perhaps more crowded with carriages and sweating horses.

You couldn’t be alone in the city! As a woman of your stature, it simply wasn’t done. Never. Ever. It was an affront to your teachings, and it was unsafe. You needed your friend, not some stranger.

“Where is she?” You mumbled, rapidly attempting to discern every face that passed you. Surely it wouldn’t be long until someone recognized you— you were one of the most photographed families in the country. In fact, you were fortunate no one had offered your location to the press while you were on this outing. You never would have heard the last of it.

Some took hold of your handbag and darted off, using your distractedness to his advantage. He ran to the end of the block and crossed the street, weaving through pedestrians once the crossing guard allowed your side to walk over. If your hand hadn’t been tightly clutching the strap as you walked, you never would have noticed.

You did your best to pick up your speed and chase him, yelling out.

You cried out, glancing down at your long springtime dress. Your short heels were nowhere near efficient enough for you to make a chase out of the robbery, nor should have needed to! Even still, you lunged into the street — without looking.

In fact, if you had committed to your step, you would’ve been flattened by an oncoming carriage, given that the crossing guard had ordered pedestrians to stop passing moments prior. The only reason why you didn’t make the life-ruining step seemed to be… a tall young man with a serious face and staggering presence. He only had one exposed blue eye, the other was concealed by a black eyepatch. His grip tightened around your arm, pulling you intimately into his chest.

You breathed heavily, tearing yourself out of his arms. A flair of irritation caused you to glare at him as you righted your stance and smooth your dress. However, he did save you from a potentially life ending situation. His immediate insurance of your safety was more meaningful than a misaligned gown that you fixed in seconds.

In fact, the moment truly was a bit theatrical. The man was handsome enough to make you smile with uncertainty, your irritation melting. “Thank you for that,” you said, relieved that the sidewalk seemed to clear, the crowd dispersing from the main street. “I could have been killed.”

“That would have been quite a shame,” he replied, locking eyes with you. The man made a thin attempt at returning your smile. He was enchanting, regal… your heart skipped a beat, considerably flustered.

…Until he spoke again, completely distorting the immediate magnetic lure you felt from his sharp features: “Rather careless of you, my Lady. You ought to be smarter than that.”

You frowned. “In case you failed to notice, that man stole my handbag and essentially disappeared,” you snapped impatiently. It had your identification, emergency notes in case you needed to purchase something, the current novel you were fixated on…how were you meant to return to the estate now?

“You weren’t catching him, I don’t think,” he noted astutely, watching you as you stepped past him to go in the direction you came from. Perhaps Daphne circled back to the park in search of you. You absolutely needed to find her.

“Thank you for your help. Good day,” you answered brusquely, continuing to walk. However, he remained in stride with you, still unabashedly smug. It quickly absolved you of any former gratefulness you had toward the man for pulling you away from oncoming traffic. Perhaps it might have hurt less to have collided with a horse and a carriage over the velocity and mass of this random man’s ego.

“What, don’t tell me you going to go chase him,” He said patronizingly, a sardonic pull infecting what you thought was initially a careful smile. No, the man was just another arrogant bastard, it seemed. “In those shoes, especially,” He perused, causing you to stop once more and regard him.

“I am a noble woman, you will not speak to me in such a manner no matter what line of—“ you caught the sapphire family and silver crest rings around two of his fingers — “mediocre destitution you come from!” You jabbed purposefully, undeserving of his rudeness and his condescension, no matter what title he occupied in your class. You were the partial inheritor of TransAtlantia; you trained to run the company to some degree since you could speak. Few could step to you.

“I believe I said good day, kind sir,” you added poisonously, daring him to continue to test you before speeding back towards the park. You needed Daphne, you needed an officer…anyone besides this pompous— you ended the thought before you could further infect yourself with such unladylike curses.

It really wasn’t so easy being the daughter of an Earl.

CIEL PHANTOMHIVE

“I’ve planned things so Lady Y/n’s maid is off helping a little girl find her mother; I separated the two by distracting the girl with a kitten. Y/n will panic without her maid being within her immediate reach, drawing her out to the street. I will cause her to put herself in harm’s way by distracting her at the corner of 89th Street and Arthur. Be ready by the street post. I’ve made the new paralegal late to his case, he will have instructed his butler to drive quick. You will need to pull her away from the street. If you miss, things may end rather…unfortunately for the young woman,” Ciel Phantomhive’s butler, Sebastian Michealis, outlined.

Sebastian was Ciel’s head butler, his head chef, head landscaper, tailor, tutor… but most importantly, the Earl of Phantomhive’s contracted demon. The supernatural being was at his disposal and his bidding; his new role being the most interesting one of all: matchmaker. He fabricated a scene for Ciel to meet Y/n Y/l/n, and ideally, make her love him.

It was simple, really. Ciel needed a wife; Y/n’s family needed a competent businessman to run that prosperous giant of a shipping enterprise; and most importantly, the woman seemed to be rather competent. The only danger to his strategy was, of course, Y/n’s foul storybook idealism, apparently. Ciel knew Y/n was highly educated and well graced in ettiquiete, but she seemed intent on finding some happily ever after of sorts.

She wanted a husband— a bloody love match. No— she needed an actor to convince her that she was worth marrying beyond the incredible status she represented. There was no asset greater than a title and an economic monarchy to inherit, and securing such a prize meant that Ciel needed to woo her.

“My Lord, you must be considerate, but not too kind. Though you should also refrain from acting too smugly or the lady may take offense,” his butler had offered some horrifically embarrassing — and incredibly unhelpful — acting lessons for him to express the particular warmth Lady Y/n seemed to be looking for.

Love. A feeling Ciel hadn’t known in around nine years. Arguably, it could’ve been more. And yet, in order to stop being solicited by desperate mothers and unlikely candidates, he was securing his bride.

According to Ciel’s butler, that meant he needed to create a memorable foundation in the woman’s mind, an introduction that would leave her curious, impassioned. Wanting more. Something to make him stand out amongst the other faceless, classless mouth breathers who would be vying for TransAtlantica, now that word of her search for a suitor was widespread.

The company and Y/n’s hand were all one in the same courtship, and Ciel was sure the was going to win both.

The Earl of Phantomhive was never one to lose. He’d be remiss to start now.

[captainsophiestark]

Vigilante Book Club Part 2

Jason Todd x Reader

Masterlist - Join My Taglist! - Part 1 Part 3

Written for my personal fic writing challenge for 2024, Sophie's Year of Fic! Featuring a new fic being posted every Friday, all year long :)

Fandom: DC

Summary: After having an all-around terrible day, the only person who might be able to make it better is a certain book-loving vigilante.

Word Count: 1,562

Category: Fluff

A/N: This is the closest I've come all year to missing a Friday lol, but we got it done! Woohoo!

Putting work into an AI program without permission is illegal. You do not have my permission. Do not do it.

****************

I hummed to myself as I moved around the kitchen, dancing to the music I had on in the background while making sure everything cooked just right. I had a reputation to fix, after all, and I was determined to get it right.

After the Red Hood had broken into my apartment to return my favorite book last week, I'd convinced him to come back for a thank-you dinner and to talk about the book, which he'd been planning to read in the meantime. He'd also vaguely insulted my cooking, although I'd mostly forgiven him for that in light of him returning my book.

Tonight was the date we'd set for dinner and book-talk, and I'd spent the week preparing the perfect recipe. Even better, the kitchen currently smelled amazing, which had to be a good sign of success.

Right on cue, about the same time he'd shown up last week, I heard a knock on my door. I smiled, trying to ignore the way my heart sped up a little as I quickly wiped my hands on the kitchen towel and headed for the door.

I paused just long enough to look through the peep hole and, as expected, the Red Hood stood towering in my doorway. This time, instead of the whole-head helmet, he only had a red domino mask on. Thank goodness, since the dinner part of this whole evening would be ruined if he couldn't actually eat without revealing his secret identity. I swung open the door with a grin.

"Hi! I'm glad you came! Honestly, I was half expecting you to be at the window again."

He just grunted and shrugged.

"I wasn't sure you'd actually be home, or still up for this. Figured I'd come to the door and give you a chance to pretend not to be home."

"Don't be ridiculous," I said, waving off his concerns as I opened the door wide. "I've been looking forward to this all week. Unless, of course, you're here to hate on my favorite book. If that's the case, I think I'm going to have to throw you out."

He laughed. "Don't worry, I'd never do that. I know what a true favorite book means to a reader."

I gave him a little smile and a nod as I closed the front door, then headed past him into the kitchen. I gestured to the bar stools at my counter as I checked that everything still looked good.

"Have a seat. Can I get you anything to drink?"

"A water would be great."

"Sure thing! Coming right up." I filled up a glass for Red Hood and myself, then fixed him with a smile as I set his glass down in front of him. "So... notice anything different from the last time you were here? Anything in the kitchen, maybe?"

He hummed, pausing and pretending to think. I put my hands on my hips and raised an eyebrow, and after a moment, he broke and grinned.

"I'll admit, the kitchen's looking much more promising than the last time you said you were making dinner in here."

"Thank you," I said, smiling as I turned around to start plating everything. "I told you, last time you were here was just a record-breaking bad day. A cooking fluke."

I could hear him hum behind me, at least pretending not to sound totally convinced.

"Next time, I'll make something. Everything you've got going right now looks amazing, but I'm a pretty good cook myself. I wouldn't want you thinking I'm acting like a critic out of nowhere."

I hesitated a second before turning around, trying to get my ridiculous smile and racing heart under control. I technically didn't know him very well yet, but so far, I'd started to really like Red Hood. I loved the idea of making this a regular thing, and I loved even more that he'd suggested it. I took a deep breath, then finally turned around, my smile still massive but at least a little more reasonable.

"Deal. Next time, you cook."

****************

I laughed, closing my book and shaking my head as I looked up at Hoodie. He looked back over the top of his own book, one eyebrow raised.

"What?" he asked, leaning slightly towards me. I shook my head, smiling all the same.

"Nothing. I just know why you wanted me to read this book so badly now."

"Oh yeah? And why's that?"

I cleared my throat dramatically and lifted Hoodie's copy of Northanger Abbey, which he'd temporarily loaned me, before starting to read:

"The person, be it gentleman or lady, who has not pleasure in a good novel, must be intolerably stupid."

Hoodie grinned. "I'll admit, I may have levelled that quote at a family member or two. Although, I might widen the original to include stories in general."

I snorted. "And if one of those family members said they loved podcasts or movies or something, but not books?"

"No, they're the exception. They're idiots whether or not they enjoy a good story."

I laughed, and after a moment, Hoodie joined me. Since that first reading date, we'd made our unofficial vigilante book club into a weekly occurance. He always came over to my place, and we spent the evening talking about books, or reading together and then talking about books. We alternated who cooked, and this time, it was his responsibility. He had food cooking in the crock-pot, and the delicious smells had been temping me for the better part of the past few hours.

"So I take it you're enjoying the book?" he asked, laying his down in his lap. I nodded, mirroring his gesture and sitting up a little straighter.

"I am. I can't believe it took me so long to get around to reading it! I've loved all the other Austen I've read."

"Which is why we get along," he said with a grin. I nodded.

"I could never spend time like this with a man who didn't at least appreciate Pride and Prejudice."

"Of course not."

"But what about you? Are you liking your book of the week?"

He nodded, scooting a little closer to me on the couch.

"I've said it before and I'll say it again, you have good taste in books. I don't think you've picked one yet that I haven't liked."

"...Now I sort of want to take that as a challenge."

Hoodie just rolled his eyes.

"Be careful. I've read some shit I wouldn't wish on anyone, but I can and will use it as payback if I have to."

I laughed. "I don't know, I've read some pretty unbeatably bad ones..."

"Oh yeah? Well how about-"

He stopped short at the sound of a ringtone. I raised an eyebrow as he grimaced. Not once, in all the weeks we'd been doing this, had either of us let a phone interrupt the night.

"Sorry. Vigilante phone," he grunted. "Just a second."

I waved him off to let him know it was no problem, and he shot me a quick smile before answering. To my surprise, he held it out in front of him and put it on speaker.

"What do you want?" he barked without a hello. "I'm busy."

"Yeah, so busy that nobody's been able to get a hold of you all night!" came an exasperated voice that sounded much too young for that level of exhaustion. "We started prepping for Alfred's birthday-"

BOOM! A loud noise that sounded too close to an explosion for comfort cut off the rest of the sentence. My jaw dropped open at the same time that the kid on the other end of the phone shouted out at the top of his lungs.

"JASON! What happened? Are you- oh shit, I think that was on my end." A brief pause, some scuffling, and the sound of an alarm in the background as Hoodie—as Jason—and I sat frozen in place on the couch. "Just get back here as soon as you can to help!"

The kid on the other end hung up, leaving Jason and I in the ringing silence of my apartment. After a moment, the man on the couch next to me sighed heavily, and I decided to beat him to the punch on further breaking the silence.

"I am... so sorry," I said. "I know you probably didn't want that, like, getting out, and-"

"Stop," he said gently, reaching out to take my hands in his. I did, opting instead to chew on the inside of my lip as I looked at him with wide eyes. "Look, it's not exactly how I wanted this to go, and I wasn't expecting Timbo to use the vigilante phone to say my civilian name, but... I've been thinking about telling you for a while. I'm not upset that you know, and I've know you long enough now that I trust you to keep my secret."

My mouth dropped open a little as a thousand butterflies exploded in my chest. This was a major leap of faith and trust in the relationship we'd been building in our little book club. I squeezed Jason's hands, smiling as I leaned into him a little. He grinned back at me, then sighed.

"Now, if you hated Austen, maybe I'd have to be a little more worried about all this..."

I gasped. "I could never."

"Exactly. You're not somebody I'm worried about here."

We shared another, softer smile, and then I reluctantly dropped Jason's hands.

"Speaking of people you should be worried about... whoever made that call sounded like they could use your help."

Jason's eyes rolled back so far I couldn't see the pupils anymore.

"They're idiots who should never be allowed anywhere near a kitchen, but they'll survive without me for a little longer. At least long enough to do this."

For a split second, I expected him to lean in for a kiss, and my heart did a backflip in my chest. Instead, he reached up for the domino mask still sitting comfortably on his face, which somehow seemed more intimate.

Slowly, he pulled away the fabric, revealing the bright blue eyes it had been hiding. When he smiled, this time I could see the corners of his eyes turning up along with his mouth, and even from a few feet away I could see his gorgeous eyelashes. It took some actual effort not to swoon, even though his face didn't change significantly from when he'd been wearing the mask.

"Like what you see?" he asked, tone soft but joking. I huffed a laugh and let a smile make its way back onto my face.

"Yeah. I do."

"Good. Then... what do you think about going out? On a real date, with me, not Red Hood? No pressure if you're not interested, but-"

"I would love that," I said, my smile morphing to take up my entire face. "Jason."

He beamed back at me the second his name left my lips, the two of us gravitating towards each other until his vigilante phone started blaring again and Jason rolled his eyes.

"I better go. But I'll see you... this Friday? Pick you up at six?"

I nodded. "It's a date."

Jason grinned, his eyes darting back to me every few seconds as he collected his things. We agreed to just keep each other's books until Friday since we wouldn't get to finish reading them together tonight, making Jason the first person I'd ever trusted with my only copy of a book. Our goodbye took longer than it should've since he had explosions to deal with and we were seeing each other again in a few days, but neither of us could bear to part any faster. And when the front door finally shut, it was hours before I actually wiped the smile off my face.

Who could've guessed something positive would come out of one of my most obnoxious bad days to date, let alone someone as wonderful as Jason?

****************

Everything Taglist: @rosecentury @kmc1989 @space-helen

DC Taglist: @gaychaosgremlin @v1ckycheesue

[quietwingsinthesky]

Can you delete your bad fics or private them? I kudosed one and sent it to a discord but then i went to your orofile and found you ship incest in other fic. I dont want my friends to know that I read proship. Youre a really good writer. so you should delete it anyway more people will like you

okay okay holy fucking shit this is. one of the most anon asks of all time. let's break this down.

(1) "Can you delete your bad fics" <- this is like all that i could see on my phone notif which. you can imagine how wild that was to glance over and see out of nowhere. and then it just does not get more normal. "or private them" ????????

(2) "I kudosed one and sent it to a discord" so okay the existence of my other work or that i wrote them in the first place does not actually disturb you so much that you want to stop consuming the work that you do like. you just don't want there to be evidence that you liked my tainted work. how is this my problem.

(3) "but then i went to your orofile and found you ship incest in other fic." look on the one hand. yeah? we do incest here. i'm not going to apologize for my work. but also like that honestly isn't the most extreme stuff i write, why is it always the incest people focus on. i wrote about a guy getting eggs laid in him by a hellhound once. no one ever comes to me accusing me of being morally despicable for the hellhound egg fic, and it makes me feel very unloved. sorry, distracted. where were we.

(4) "I dont want my friends to know that I read proship." Do you know what's extremely abnormal, both on your end and of your friends'? For you to feel the need to do like. a fucking background check on me. before you even read completely unrelated fic??????? Look, I'm being a bit of an asshole to you here, I understand that, but you must see how unreasonable your message is (assuming you did not send it with malicious intent in the first place, we'll get to that.) But. Genuinely. Anon, this is not normal for you to expect of yourself or for your friends to expect you to do. This is extremely concerning control behavior. You are in a cult. If you're afraid of your friends turning on you because of something you didn't even read, just came into contact with accidentally by association, they are not your friends and you are in a very bad situation. Get the fuck out of there.

(5) "Youre a really good writer. so you should delete it anyway more people will like you" However, having said that, lol. lmao. The last bit where you go oh but you *are* good, you just need to do what *I* want to earn more attention makes me extremely fucking suspicious that you came here with ill intent from the start. If I was not, well, me. If I was, say, someone with a lot more need for that attention or praise, or someone who was more insecure in my writing, this would be a good fucking trap to lay, wouldn't it. And don't think I missed how you positioned your earlier situation as something that would be my fault if I didn't take my fics down, as if you or your friends' actions are my responsibility. Take your suggestion and shove it up your ass. I hope no one you've preyed on with that ever listened to you.

[asumofwords]

Smoke, Fire and Ash

Warnings: This fic includes noncon, dubcon, manipulation, violence, death, forced marriage, and inc3st. Tags will be added as the fic goes on.

This is a dark!fic. 18+ only. Read at your own discretion. Please read the warnings before continuing.

Summary: You are the eldest daughter of Rhaenyra and Daemon Targaryen. You are forced to navigate the difficult surroundings of your upbringing and the eventual disintegration between your family and the Hightower's relationship. What will happen when your older and estranged uncle suddenly takes a more sinister interest in you? (Dark!Aemond x Reader)

Masterlist

Characters: Aemond Targaryen X Reader, HOTD characters.

Note: I have been furiously writing this in my notes app on my work trip lol so please excuse any typos you may see ! I didn't want to starve you all after my birthday break. Love you all, enjoy <3

Chapter 68: Changes

When you woke the next morning, it was not to a cold and empty bed. The chambers were not missing an extra head of silver as they always were. Instead, you were woken to a kiss pressed to the side of your face, and large arms pulling you tighter against a very warm body. 

You stirred in his grip, the heat making you uncomfortably stuffy. Aemond’s chest rumbled softly beneath your head as he hummed, the sound crackling as he cleared the sleep from his voice.

“Zaldristos.”

Your eyes opened, blinking softly as you came to the surface from your rest. The room was light from the sun having risen, though the maids were nowhere to be seen. 

You had woken as early as Aemond always did. 

Images of the night before flashed in your mind, and instinctually your legs clenched together.

Aemond felt you stir beside him, watching as your hips moved back and your thighs rubbed together. He hummed an amused, yet kind laugh.

“Not enough time for that I’m afraid.”

You grimaced, thankful your face was hidden in his neck. You sat up, pulling the sheets up to your chest in an attempt of modesty, and looked about the room. It was odd to wake up at this hour, to see the table left as it was the evening before and the chambers empty of Aemond’s two handmaids. 

You turned your head to look back at your husband. 

He lay on his pillow relaxed, hair tangled beneath his head, with soft waves curling the ends. You had not seen his hair wavy like that since you were young. If the air was moist on a hot day, his hair would become frizzy, small curls and waves like his mother appearing at the back of his head. 

His eye was half lidded, and you were taken back to find the space where his sapphire orb sat to be empty. The gaping hole was shadowed by the light light of the morning, making it appear deeper than it was. Or perhaps it really was that deep.

You surmised that Aemond must take it out before he slept.

Sensing your gaze on the empty space where a violet eye once sat, Aemond turned his head to look at the table beside his side of the bed. In a small golden bowl, sat the sapphire eye. 

His hand moved to grab it, reaching across the bed.

“Does it hurt?” 

Aemond’s hand stilled, leaving the sapphire in the bowl as his hand came to rest on his stomach, long fingers rubbing the sheets between forefinger and thumb. The room was silent as you waited for his response.

Should you not have asked?

Would he be angered to be reminded of what was taken from him?

Aemond continued to watch you with his violet eye, more alert than he had been mere moments before.

“At times.” He finally answered.

You observed him as he kept his gaze on you, fingers continuing to play with the sheet. Not in anxiety, not in stress, just merely in thought.

“Does it hurt to wear it?”

He hummed.

“Do you sleep with it ever?”

The questions just kept tumbling out of your mouth.

And Aemond continued to answer honestly.

“No. It isn’t good to sleep with it in.”

“Oh.” Was all you could respond. 

You continued to look down at him, sheets held to your chest. And Aemond continued to watch you in return. 

His chest was pale, the lightest dusting of hair on his chest, crawling down beneath the sheets to where you knew it congregated around his pelvis. There were small pale slivers on his arms, and even some around his torso.

Tiny little scars that had healed a long time ago.

But then there was your addition. And that skin was pink, not milky.

Aemond’s hand lifted from the sheets and moved toward your face. You held still to not flinch. His thumb brushed against your bottom lip, pulling it from between your lips. You hadn't even noticed that you had been nibbling at it. He stared into your eyes as his finger rested on your mouth.

A knock at the door broke you both away from each other. His thumb sliding down your neck and onto his stomach. You kept the sheets against your chest as Aemond beckoned the maids to enter. 

The girls entered the chambers, heads down as they brought food in.

They moved the scrolls and tomes across to another table, cleaning yours to place down two sets of plates, bowls with fruit, and other steaming food. When at last the two maids had set down the drinks; water, wine, juice and tea, they finally left the chambers with a bow at the waist, eyes still cast down.

Aemond finally sat up behind you, letting his hand run down your spine. Your skin prickled under his touch, hairs rising on ends, before he moved himself slowly to the side of the bed. You watched him bend forward, still seated to grab his breeches and tunic. As his spine bent forward, you gazed at the way his muscles pulled taut against his sides and shoulders. Aemond's body was built tightly from training.

When he stood, you got a generous view of his backside. His ass was toned, waist slightly coming in where he had gained strength in his core. He pulled his pants on, and as if feeling your blatant stare, turned to meet your gaze.

Sheepishly you turned away, still clutching the sheet to you as you bent to find the forgotten chemise on the floor. You pushed each arm through the holes and stood, the sheets falling back onto the bed as the soft material rolled down your body. 

Upon a chair beside your side of the bed, was a deep red robe. You walked over slowly, feeling the soft silky material in your fingers, before threading your arms through the long sleeves, feeling all the more covered and cosier in the chambers. When you turned, Aemond had already pulled on his tunic and was making his way to the table. His head pulled to the side, hair falling down his shoulder as he cracked his neck. 

“I am surprised you are awake so early.” He mused, pulling his own seat out to sit in as you watched from beside the bed. 

You came to join him, pulling your chair out and sitting opposite him. The table was piled with the usual, except in the middle of the table was a steaming leg of ham. Your eyes locked onto Aemond. 

For all your times with him, he seemed to have an aversion to pig, yet this morning, he served himself a large serving, pulling some warm soft bread on the plate beside it. 

Another contradiction. 

You moved to serve yourself after him, taking some ham and two eggs onto your plate. A bowl of fruit sat beside it, grapes and mango, melons of all kinds, and on the very top, as there always was, sat a bright yellow star fruit, ripe and perfectly shaped. 

“I slept well.” You replied, plate full of food.

You began eating in a comfortable quiet, ever so often watching your husband across the table, finding his gaze already on you. His seeing eye was relaxed, and the sapphire orb already in its place. He would have put it in as you had robed yourself. 

You took some bread for yourself, eating it with your hands.

“Are you to be with the King all day?” You asked.

Aemond put down the goblet he was sipping from and swallowed.

“I am. Though I shall break my day with you to eat again.”

He was to have lunch with you. 

You nodded and gave him a lopsided smile. 

“Will you be in the Gardens all day?” Aemond asked, cutting some ham delicately as he kept his eye on you. 

“I will. But I don’t think I will be reading anything about Celtigar.” You grimaced at the thought, “I don’t know how you read that.”

“With great difficulty. Quite a stale Lord.”

Was that a joke?

Did Aemond just make a joke?

You let out a small huff of a laugh, though it sounded more like a grunt. Aemond’s lip twitched into a short lived smile.

He was making a joke. 

His eye drifted to the star fruit in front of you.

Every day since you had arrived back in Kings Landing, there had been a star fruit waiting for you. And every time you have tried to avoid it.

But today, you didn’t. 

You reached forward to grab the fruit and placed it on your plate, opting to cut it apart with your knife and fork rather than using your hands. You looked at the fruit, not daring to meet Aemond’s hopeful gaze, who watched in anticipation. 

Sway him.

Make him believe. 

Juice leaked from the fruit below on the plate as you cut it apart, and you slowly brought a chunk up to your mouth with your fork. As soon as the flesh touched your tongue you felt a whirlwind of emotions, predominately grief.

You thought of your father, and felt your eyes sting. You kept your head down as you chewed, blinking away the tears. 

Do not cry. 

Do not cry. 

Do not cry.

You swallowed the bittersweet fruit, enjoying its taste, but dreading its reminder before you looked up at Aemond and gave him a small smile. A small thanks. A small acknowledgement that you could see he was trying. That you could see that he had done this for you.

Aemond’s lips spread widely and you could see just the barest hints of teeth at the front. 

He continued on to eat his breakfast as you ate the star fruit, begging the storm to rescind within. You reached for the tea on the table in front of you to wash it down. After you poured yourself a cup, you reached for some honey to stir into it. 

“Would you like some tea?” You looked at your uncle.

He shook his head softly, “No, thank you.”

You brought the tea to your lips and sipped.

Despite the generous helping of honey you had stirred into it, there was still this bitterness that lingered. You scrunched your nose slightly as you drank it, before adding more honey.

The only redeeming quality of the tea was the minty-ness which you loved.

“Whats wrong?” Asked Aemond, watching as you put two more thick globs of honey into the tea, stirring. 

“Just bitter is all. Probably boiled the leaves too long.” You mused, sipping the tea again, relieved to find the bitterness masked by the sweetness of the honey. 

“I will have a word to the maids.” Aemond responded, brow suddenly drawn.

You gave him a weak smile, “It’s okay. Nothing that honey cannot fix.”

You did not wish for the maids to deal with Aemond any more than they already had to.

Aemond stared at you longer, obviously deliberating whether or not to berate them for burning your tea.

“Aemond,” You began, “It's fine. I promise you, no harm done.” You gave him a wider smile, and in show, drank the rest of the tea in your cup. 

The Prince nodded his head and resumed back to his eating. 

It was odd to see him like this.

To see him not put together, the image of propriety. Instead you saw a new side of Aemond, which made him seem more human, if he could be that way at all.

His hair was still unbrushed, little wisps sticking out here and there, the waves more apparent the more you looked. The tunic was crumpled, and his posture was relaxed. For him anyway. 

It was as if last night a layer was pulled back, revealing a part of the man you sat opposite of, that you had not seen before. And then this morning, yet another part revealed to you.

A glimpse of a man who you thought would never tire or be seen unkempt. A man who seemed more man. More natural. More the boy you knew. 

It was jarring. 

Aemond noticed your starring, and dabbed at his lips with his napkin. 

“Would you like to eat in the Gardens at noon?”

Eat.

In the Gardens.

Your special place. 

At noon. 

With him?

It was as if he was courting you. 

Swallowing you mirrored his movements, bringing the green napkin up to your lips to dab at the corners before responding. 

“I would like that.”

Aemond gave you another soft smile, and you had to remind yourself that it was not sweet. It was not a show of kindness. He was not a changed man. He was still a kinslayer. He was still a rapist. He was still your handler.

He was still him.

A soft knock at the door came and the maids entered without being beckoned. They bowed and bid you both a good morrow, before moving to collect your plates and cutlery. Aemond stood as they moved about the chambers and came to stand beside you.

He towered over you as you looked up at him. 

Your heart raced in your chest. 

The man stooped down and placed a kiss atop your head, before moving to have himself dressed. You watched on as one of the maids brushed his hair and pulled it behind his head in the same simple style as he always did. 

Test him. 

“Aemond,” You called out across the room, watching as he lifted a hand, commanding the girl to stop as he turned to face you, “Why do you always wear your hair like that?”

Ask.

Test.

Sway.

“I have always worn it this way.”

There was an edge to his tone. 

You stood, pulling the red robe around your waist for comfort as you walked over to him.

“I know. I just…” You paused, thinking of how to speak your mind without truly doing it, “Are we not as Targaryens seen to have braids? Are we not closer to Gods than all others?” You tilted your head as he watched you silently, the girl beside him shifting on her feet, “You’re a Prince, and yet you style your hair like a commoner.” 

Aemond’s gaze darkened.

Fuck.

“I only wish to see my husband looking his best. Being his best.” You scrambled, anxiety shooting through you, “I sometimes think of what you would look like.”

Aemond watched you carefully as you clutched the robe against you. 

Had you gone too far?

Had you ruined an otherwise perfect morning?

Had you broken the bridge you had begun to carefully build?

Aemond hummed, and to your surprise nodded, before looking at the maid, who scrambled to undo the simple style and begin to pull the sides back into an intricate and yet still simple braid down his back.

The rest of his hair laid flat beneath it, the waves brushed out, and the silky straight strands sitting as they always did. 

You watched the maids hands as they worked, and once completed, Aemond turned to look at you. He stared at you for some time, still seated until finally you understood.

He was asking for your approval. 

“You look handsome.” You said quietly, watching as his gaze lightened, “A Targaryen Prince.”

Aemond hummed again, nodding at the girl in approval.

She moved away, going to prepare his attire. Aemond stood, looking down at you as a small smirk wound its way on his face. His hand reached to touch your face, cupping your cheek. His head tilted to the side. 

“You’ve changed.”

Fuck. Fuck. Fuck.

Your heart raced in your chest. 

“As have you.” You breathed.

Aemond hummed, before moving away to dress himself. The younger maid came to join you and sat you down for her to brush your hair and braid it. You struggled to keep the panic within you at bay, breathing shallowly as the girl pulled the tangles from your locks, and began to braid it behind your head. 

You could feel Aemond’s eye on you, and soon enough he came to stand beside you as the girl finished. 

“A Targaryen Princess.” 

You let yourself smile up at him. Aemond’s hand came to touch your hair, fingers brushing the braids as he moved to place a soft kiss on your lips. You shut your eyes and exhaled through your nose. It was chaste and polite, and as Aemond stood straight, he let his hand drop back to his side. 

He moved across the side table to collect two tomes and some scrolls in his arms, piling them atop each other as he spoke. 

“I will meet you in the gardens when the sun has reached its peak.”

“I will be there.”

And with that he left the chambers, leaving you to sigh a breath of relief and have the girls dress you for the day.

It was another red gown with gold detailing, and the same gold jewellery around your neck and in your ears. However, the ring you held in your fist until the maids left the chambers, content with their cleaning. 

You turned the gold dragon in your hand as you thought. 

Was it obvious? Were you being too quick in your tests? 

Was Aemond suspecting something?

You swallowed the fear and stood, moving to pick up ‘The Fourteen Flames’ from beside your bed before leaving the chambers and making your way down to the Gardens. 

The Keep was bursting with life.

Lords and Ladies, servants and Knights, all walked about the Keep quickly to attend to their duties. You wondered what each and every one of them thought of the war. What they thought of the King. What they thought of your mother.

Were they loyal to the Aegon?

Did they see him for that he was?

Were they shocked by the usurpation? Or did they support it?

Did any see you as an ally? Or an enemy?

Were they happy?

You looked at the wives.

Were they free?

What were their lives like? Were they too, married to someone they hadn’t wanted? Did they find cruelty from their spouse? Or did they find love and kindness?

Did they find neither?

You knew that many of the Ladies often had tea together and gossiped, sometimes in the garden, sometimes in their own waiting rooms. Not once had you been invited, not once had you been offered a place to sit, a place to mingle, or socialise. 

Not once had you been spoken to. 

And not once had you wanted to. 

Meaningless gossip was not something you had the patience for, and most likely the women would skirt around anything of interest, and instead set their sights on prying into your own life. Or perhaps they would be too scared. Either way, it was not something you ever wished to be a part of. 

The day moved quickly, and soon enough the soft footfalls of Aemond took your eyes away from the book in your lap. When you looked up, you found him observing you. Aemond came to stand beside you and looked out at the water. You had not even noticed his change in attire today. 

He wore a deep green blazer with black detailing.

Tiny black dragons were embroidered on the cuffs of his sleeves and collar. His white undershirt was crisp and barely peeked through from his neckline. His breeches were black and his usual leather boots were on his feet. The style was far more relaxed than what it usually would have been, and you got the impression that Marba had made it for him.

In his arm, resting over the top, was his usual black leather coat.

Aemond felt your gaze and looked down at you. 

“You’re in green, not leathers.” You commented. 

“Hm.”

Aemond placed the coat on the bench beside you. Behind him, servants came to place a plethora of cheeses, tarts and pies upon the round table, where you had once sat with Larys, to eat and before that, Helaena.

The Prince held his hand open, gesturing to the table and you stood, placing the book down beside his coat. He pulled one of the chairs back, motioning for you to sit. Walking over to him, you sat and felt his hand trail up your arm to your neck, fingers touching the chain he had gifted you. 

Seating himself opposite you, he began to place a small pie and some tarts upon his plate, pouring the both of you a generous goblet of wine. You followed suit, and began to serve yourself a small shepherds pie and a lemon tart.

On the side of the table, as per usual, a pile of fruit with a star fruit atop. 

You broke the ice and started with small talk, a lesson you had learnt from the Septa.

“It is a fine day today in Kings Landing.” Mimicking Larys conversation starter, “How has your morning been?”

Aemond leant back in his chair and watched you, eye flicking across your face before he responded.

“Slow. Much to do for the realm to be kept in order.” 

You sipped on the honeyed Essos wine.

“What does Aegon have you doing?” You inquired curiously.

Aemond mirrored your movements and drank from his own goblet, “I fear it will bore you more than Celtigar.”

Another joke?

“I’m sure it’s not that bad.”

You were curious.

Aemond hummed. 

“I am to treat with the different Lords we rule over. Ask what they desire from the King and assure them that their needs will be met. A lot of politics, a lot of negotiations, and as I am sure you already know, a lot of reading.”

“Is that why you are always writing letters?”

Aemond cocked his head and took a bite of the cut up pie on his plate. You watched him chew in silence and worried for a moment you had asked too much, inquired too deeply. That you were mayhaps, pushing your luck.

“Mostly.”

Mostly?

The conversation fizzled out, and you felt that you could not ask much more, and instead began eating together in silence, sharing quiet stares and shy smiles.

“Ao jurnegon gevie tubī.” You look beautiful today, Aemond complimented. 

You felt a blush rise to your cheeks.

Why were you blushing?

“Kirimvose, valzȳrys.” Thank you, husband.

You didn’t know what to say, or how to continue the conversation.

“I am to leave Kings Landing again.”

Ice spread through your chest.

“What?” You put your cutlery down onto the table as you looked at him, “You have only just come back. For how long?”

Aemond’s lips twitched downwards and sighed.

“Six days, maybe more. Depending on if all goes to plan.”

“Where are you going?”

Aemond did not respond right away. The silence around you was suffocating, and you shifted in your seat suddenly feeling the weight of his gaze upon you.

Finally, he responded.

“The Golden Tooth, Storm’s End,” You shivered at the mention, “Oldtown…” He inhaled deeply before continuing, as if steeling himself to respond. As if he knew that the mere mention of the word would crumble the world around the both of you that had been crafted the night before.

“Harrenhal.”

You blinked.

He was right.

Harrenhal.

Harrenhal. 

Alys Rivers.

Back to Alys. 

You swallowed thickly looking down, anger and fear swirling circles around you like two sharks in the water, waiting for the perfect moment to strike and tear into your flesh. 

“I see.”

“I go where my King commands me to.” His voice seemed strained.

“I said I see.” You replied, tongue sharp.

Aemond sighed loudly, uttering your name. 

You straightened your back and forced yourself to smile at him. It stretched your cheeks painfully and felt foreign. But the smile did not reach your eyes, and although it sat prettily on your face, it was false. 

You took a deep breath.

Sway.

“The King has faith in your skills to treat with these Lords,” You began, the words bitter on your tongue, “And I should be proud.” 

Should be. 

If you were anyone else.

“But…” 

You looked at the man who was hung on your every word, slightly leant forward towards the table.

You shook your head, as if to clear the cloud of doubt, or fear, and forced yourself to smile at him again. This time only smaller. Your fingers fiddled with the ring he had given you atop the table, his eye coming to look at it briefly before back up at you. 

Sew the seeds of doubt, so that the roots may take their place.

“Speak what you wish to say.” Aemond urged you, tone flat.

“Will you be seeing her?” 

And for the first time that day, Aemond did not answer your questions verbally. Instead, he answered your question with his silence. 

Yes.

You searched his face as you felt anger and resentment rise to the surface, and fear simmering silently in the foreground. Giving Aemond a curt nod, you dabbed at your lips, not nearly finished with your lunch, but your hunger leaving all together. 

“When do you leave?”

Another non answer. 

More silence. 

Now.

“Right, well...”

You did not know what to say.

Aemond continued to stare at you, not offering any words of comfort.

He was leaving you for her. 

And he was leaving you alone again with him. 

“I bid you a safe journey and success in completing the King’s duties. I will see you upon your return.” 

You stood, pushing the chair behind you, Aemond’s eye narrowing on your form as you moved to push your chair back under the table. Aemond’s mouth pursed into a pout as he looked at you, something he did when irritated. 

“Thank you for the company.” You spoke, voice wavering in its tone from angry to calm. 

You could barely contain yourself. 

And Aemond could see it. 

He leant back in his chair as he watched you walk away from him swiftly, hands holding each other in front of you so tightly, your knuckles turned white.

He made you feel like a whore. 

Thats all you were to him.

You came along after Alys.

You may be wed, but he had given himself to her before you. 

Did she think of you that way? Did she see you as an intruder? As a whore?

As someone who was coming between them?

You moved through the garden, leaving your book behind, promising yourself that you would return to pick it up after the had left the Keep.

Alys and Aemond spun in your mind, and you realised, much to your horror, that she may be more of a threat than you had thought. You moved through the corridors, walking past Lord’s and Ladies with your mouth set in a tight line.

Ahead of you stood Lord Larys, conversing with another Lord of the court, someone you did not recognise.

The Lord bowed as you moved to walk passed the both of them. Larys watched with his keen eyes and opened his mouth to greet you, perhaps even invite you on a walk, but you had no patience for the man.

Instead you growled at him.

“Fuck off, Larys.”

Thanks so much for reading along with me, if you wish to be added to the tag list please let me know :) Likes and reblogs are greatly appreciated ! Enjoy <3

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[carriagetovolterra]

Enchanted ~ Caius Volturi One-Shot

~~~

A/N ~ this is probably my favorite piece I’ve ever written and I hope y’all enjoy it 💜 posting off moblie so I apologize for any formatting issues. Also this is dedicated to @felixschokehold and @mell1806-blog who helped hype me up to finally write something lol.

Word count ~ 1122

Summary ~ Your first kiss with Caius 💜

~~~

Caius had caught you walking home alone earlier in the night.

Again.

It had become quite a common occurrence for your roommate to leave you alone while she left different clubs and restaurants with strangers each night.

It did used to hurt your feelings getting left at various places, especially by her. But now you didn’t mind as much as it meant more time with your red-eyed creature who couldn’t seem to stay away from you. Just about every night he would find you, and walk home with you. Caius would gently loop your arm with his and scold you for how dangerous it was for a young woman to be walking alone at night. He never missed a moment to be alone with you, and tonight was no exception.

Sorta.

Demetri and Felix, who he described as his coven mates and in a way business partners were never far from his side. While they had been very polite in the few times you had met and gave you and Caius plenty of space, they honestly scared you more than you wanted to admit. But they were nowhere to be found tonight.

Thankfully.

Although deep down you knew they were close.

But as far as you knew, it was just you and Caius alone as you stepped into your apartment. A first time occurrence for Caius. As you showed him the small space he was quiet throughout, there wasn’t much to show. Two small bedrooms and one bathroom and then the kitchen that was connected to the living room. Caius was more curious about the space you occupied more than anything.

He curiously looked around your room as you got clothes for a needed shower, your voice filled the room as you randomly babbled about your day to him. His eyes scanned your bookshelf, which were mostly fantasy novels mixed in with various college textbooks. He ran his fingers over your unmade bed, along your notebooks filled with various subjects, and finally came back to your side to trace the bottom of your spine to the top. His cold hand made you shiver.

Setting your clothes down you turned around to face his direction. You couldn’t help but smile up at him. Eyes twinkled as you moved your hands to rest on his chest. “I’m really glad you are here,” You whispered to him.

Moving your arms you pulled him into a closer embrace. As his arms followed suit he replied looking down at you. “As am I, Mí Cara, you can learn many things about someone by the way they live. And you, for some reason, I cannot know enough of.”

Being so close to Caius almost made you dizzy. There was no heartbeat as your head rested on his chest. No warmth. Just his natural intoxicating scent. You had never been this close for it to hit you as hard as it is right now. You could stay here forever.

Thoughts of a shower knocked you out of the trance he had you in. You very reluctantly pulled away. “Let me take a shower and you can get to know me as much as you want.”

~~~~~

“It is quite rude to leave your guest waiting for too long.” He sighed, pretending to be annoyed as you sat down beside him. Caius lightly pulled you closer to his side, brushing a stray piece of hair behind your ear, before wrapping his arms around you. His amused smile came back as he looked down at your grinning face.

You couldn’t help but laugh. Time meant nothing to this creature.

“You’ve waited a long time for me, I figured a couple more minutes wouldn’t hurt.” You teased him back; Giggling as you pulled a blanket over yourself, and reaching for your phone to stream music on your TV.

Caius didn’t seem to produce any body heat or even retain heat, a blanket was definitely needed.

“Taylor Swift?” He questioned you. “I am not familiar with her music”

“Really? Never?” You were surprised, especially when he’s mentioned in the past he is a very old creature, with all that age, how could he be oblivious to her music?

“Well we will start out with my favorite song then.” Picking up the phone again, you put on Enchanted.

There I was again tonight

Forcing laughter, faking smiles

Same old tired, lonely place

Walls of insincerity, shifting eyes and vacancy

Vanished when I saw your face

All I can say is, it was enchanting to meet you

A small sigh escaped you as you cuddled against Caius, letting yourself enjoy the moment. With one hand you grabbed him and intertwined your fingers. They were just as pale as the rest of his body, and just as cold. The longer you gazed at them the more you noticed what seemed to be… bite marks? Scattered all over. You couldn’t help the sudden worry that came over you. Who would hurt Caius like this?

“Those scars are very old and long since healed mía cara.” Caius assured you. His voice lifted your eyes to connect with his. They were a brighter red than when you last saw them. Similar to a flawless Ruby, if they could even compare to his beauty.

“These hands have seen many battles, and will possibly see many more conflicts to come. But I can assure you these hands will never bring harm to you.” He continued, while holding your gaze. His free hand came up to gently stroke your face.

“You have not been scared of my presence the entire time we’ve been in each other’s company, I would like to keep it that way. Which will be more difficult the more you see of me and know of me. Just know Mia Cara, you are one I could never bring harm to. You have my word.” Caius promised you. His red eyes were intense with emotion looking into yours. Those words genuinely came from his heart. It left you speechless.

Speaking of hearts, yours felt like it was going a million miles a minute. You could feel every beat, every rush of blood to different parts of your body. The mix of his words and the close proximity to you had such an effect on you. And he knew.

Caius kept his eyes on yours as he slowly moved in closer. His hand which had been stroking your face, had moved downwards and rested on your neck. Feeling your warm skin and the thud of your heart underneath. His breath was cool and intoxicating as it hit your face. You couldn’t wait any longer.

You closed the gap that separated your lips.

All I know is, I was enchanted to meet you.

[therhythmafterthesummer]

I'm the anon who sent the ask about Pack Mum and her frustrations; your version is fucking top notch (I'm just a switchy bitch lol) and let's be real, don't we all need a bit of that in our lives? 😩😩😩 would love to see Chris' version of that too, whatever you write is going to be amazing either way 😍

previous ask for reference

fun fact, i have a handful of drabbles written for these two that have never left my google docs (some of them probably won't, ever), since i use them as practice. for this particular scenario i already had something written, so might as well share it with y'all. please bear with me, this is barely proof read sjkdfhsdkjf

Pairing: Werewolf!Chan x Human!F.Reader (one of the main pairings of my WereRoomies series, but you don’t really need to read any other instalments to understand/enjoy this one). | Word Count: ~2k. | Warnings: smut | established relationship · pet names · oral [F.&M.Rec] · edging · face sitting/fucking, all that good stuff · spanking

minors do not interact.

> Chris💕🐺: pretty baby  > howre u feeling today > ???

< You: hey darling < i’m very meh < but still standing so it’s fine < you? 

> Chris💕🐺: im having a really bad day > dont wanna get into details but god i just wanna be home

< You: oh no ): < can i help you in any way?

You saw the ‘Typing…’ text under Chris’ contact name pop up and disappear a few times before he finally replied.

> Chris💕🐺: actually… > maybe > u can say no btw > but > would u sit on my face and let me edge you for a long while when im back home?

< You: how long is a long while?

> Chris💕🐺: a really long while > as much as u can stand it > just wanna dive between ur legs > want to suffocate on your cunt and your thighs baby > so bad > fuck > had to come to hide in the restroom for a bit cuz im so hard rn just thinking about it

You couldn’t help but chuckle. But being honest with yourself, the proposition certainly gave you a similar reaction to Chris’. All you could think about now was having your boyfriend’s tongue between your legs, aided by his lips and his nose to bring you to that sweet, sweet edge over and over again…

Wetness was starting to pool at your centre, your thighs pressed together to ease some of that familiar ache, and you honestly had to make the conscious effort to remember you were still at the office, in a very public space.

Your phone vibrating again in your hand brought you back from your little day dream.

> Chris💕🐺: again > u can totally say no

< You: mmm🤔 < i’d love to sit on my alpha’s handsome face < would you let me grind on it baby?

> Chris💕🐺: fuck… yes > anything as long as u just dont come > not until i tell you to > or until u cant take it anymore > yeah? 

< You: yea 😇

> Chris💕🐺: fuck > ure so good to me pretty > seriously > im gonna make u feel so good love > hydrate yourself as much as u can > its gonna be so worth it > love u prettiest

< You: love you babiest

The rest of your workday was honestly a blur. All you could think about was the evening that awaited you. So, when you finally reached home–with your boyfriend nowhere in sight–you simply took a quick shower to get squeaky clean and got yourself into one of his t-shirts to ensure his scent was all over you when he came home.

As soon as Chris made it through the front door he gave you a quick kiss, dropped his belongings wherever, and made a beeline to the bathroom to take a shower–all as he discarded pieces of clothing on the way. A very delightful sight, you’d admit.

Now here you were, laying on the sofa and scrolling on your phone, waiting for him to come out.

The second he’d gotten out of the shower, barely even patting himself dry, with his hair still wet, Chris made his way to you.

Before you could even stand up, he was already hovering over you, kissing you deeply for a moment, only to finally trace a path of kisses to your neck so he could nibble at your pulsepoint.

“Been thinking about you all day, pretty baby”, he mumbled against your skin, licking the area and kissing it after. 

“Me too, darling…” A sigh of relief passed your lips, while you all but melted under the attention your boyfriend was providing to your neck. “You got me so wet”, taking a hold of his hand, you guided it to your core, where his fingers traced your folds, spreading your essence with a deep inhale. “So fucking wet just thinking about you, Chris”. 

“Fuck…You smell so fucking good…” Burying his face further in the crook of your neck, he sucked on your pulse point, just as he eased two fingers into you, making you moan in surprise as he diligently massaged your walls. 

You bared your neck, giving your boyfriend plenty of room for him to paint purple roses on your skin. Holding tightly onto his arms, you couldn’t help but squirm a little when he started to thrust his fingers in and out of you, once he started curling them to hit that sweet spot within your warmth.

“So tight, baby…” Chris mumbled as he eased a third finger into you, making you whine at the delicious stretch. “We don’t fuck for a couple of days and it’s almost like your cunt has forgotten me…” 

You shook your head, swallowing the saliva that had pooled in your mouth. “Impossible. She–she knows who she belongs to”.

“Fuck…” Pulling his fingers out of you, he straightened himself. “Come here, beautiful”.

Chris laid down, motioning for you to place each knee next to his head. You did as asked, staring at him between your legs as you lowered yourself, hovering just a bit while he caressed your thighs. 

“C’mon, baby”, Chris borderline whined, bringing his hands to your hips and holding you tightly. “Sit”. 

“I’m…baby, I don’t wanna crush you”.

This was a common debate when you found yourselves in this situation. Sometimes you didn’t even need to think twice about complying, but, as a heavier person, other times you were a bit unsure. Today was one of those days, clearly. And as usual, your boyfriend was quick to reassure you.

“Babe, we’ve been through this. I’m a fucking animal, remember? All that werewolf thing? You’re not gonna crush me”, he chuckled. “Sit on me, get comfy, and brace yourself, yeah?” 

With a deep inhale, you nodded, finally lowering yourself all the way. You couldn’t hold back the gasp that left your mouth as soon as you felt Chris’ tongue make contact with your heat. “Oh–”

His tongue running through your folds, teasing your entrance, licking your clit, sucking on it…Every single one of his motions had tingles of pleasure travelling up and down your spine, had your chest heaving, and quiet whines coming out of your mouth.

Bringing his hands to your thighs, he held you tightly in place, so tight you wondered if you’d see a mark left in the shape of his fingers later–something you were admittedly eager to see. He was groaning a lot, you were moaning a lot, and, in no time, he had reduced you to a whimpering mess.

Maybe it was all that daydreaming you’d been doing after he sent you those texts, maybe it was just how good your boyfriend was at working you up, but you were very quickly getting close to the edge, almost ready to tip over it.

“Baby…Chris, fuck, I’m…close”, your voice quivered a bit, and Chris simply hummed in response, finally slowing his movements. 

His hands roamed your body as his tongue flicked your sensitive nub, the pressure was light enough that the signs of your approaching orgasm seemed to be fading away. In all honesty, you weren’t sure if you were going to stand this at all. You’d try, of course, but you realised very quickly how badly you wanted your relief.

Kneading your breasts, Chris simply continued his motions, slowly licking your clit, or dipping his tongue inside of you for a taste. You couldn’t help but roll your hips, trying to get some extra stimulation. And whenever he licked at your entrance, his nose would bump your clit, and it had you pathetically whining as you ground your core on his face. 

When Chris finally opened his eyes to look at you, you stared right back. 

That stare-off had the fine hairs on the back of your neck standing on end, and you were immediately trapped in that undeniably predator look of his.

It was kind of amusing, how that look seemed to have the complete opposite effect it should have on you. It should’ve made you feel intimidated, scared, but after spending this much time with Chris, after giving yourself to him so many times already, the trust you had in him made it so that stare of his just made you want to be closer to him. It enticed you, it made you shiver, made you wetter, and, right now, just by looking at him, at that utterly primal desire in his eyes, you could feel yourself grow closer to your climax again.

You genuinely couldn’t tell how long you spent right there. You had already lost count of how many times he’d brought you to the edge by the fifth time. Your legs were starting to burn, your lower back hurt, and you suddenly felt like you needed something in your mouth. 

“C–Chris”, you tugged on his hair, gasping when he quickened the pace of his tongue. “Baby… Want–”

He squeezed your bum, one butcheek in each hand, surely bruising you with the strength of his grip. It made you dizzy, and you were sure you were dripping all over him by now. He released his hold on one of your buttocks, only to land a harsh smack on it after, urging you to speak, making you shamelessly moan with the action. 

Chris hardly ever spanked you–aside from a playful, mild smack here and there. He’d told you before that he felt like he already put your body through so much with everything else, adding that, too, was just unnecessary, and that it could possibly hurt you too much. But, fuck, if the sting felt good whenever he did.

“Need your cock, baby”, you finally sighed, trembling with your upcoming release. Chris gave you a curious look, not stopping his tongue for a second, so you decided to clarify. “In my mouth, Chris. Please…”

Taking a hold of your hips, he lifted you up a bit, enough to talk. “Turn around, pretty”.

Your legs were incredibly unsteady, but you managed to do it, finally laying on Chris with his tongue once again in its rightful place within your warmth. 

Saliva pooled in your mouth at the sight of your boyfriend’s cock. Incredibly hard, twitching, and with an impressive pool of pre-cum under his tip where it laid on his lower abdomen. He was clearly enjoying this a lot, and just the sight had you clenching with need..

When you took him in your hand, his thighs jerked a bit, and a moan muffled against your skin as he continued to feast on your cunt. You simply pumped him in your hand, once, twice, relishing just how hard he was. 

Wasting no more time, you licked a long stripe from his base to the tip, swirling your tongue around it for good measure. Until, finally, you took him in your mouth, eliciting a shared moan from the both of you. 

Chris’ hands dragged up and down your back, kneading your flesh as he went, moaning against your heat whenever you got him deeper into your mouth, whenever your nails dug on his thighs. 

All of a sudden, you felt Chris’ hand land harshly on one of your buttocks. The sudden sting made you moan around his length and clench around thin air. He did it again on the other, holding the supple flesh of your bum tightly in his hands right after in an attempt to soothe your skin. 

His length popped out of your mouth with a sinful sucking sound. With a hazy mind and a needy cunt, you were speaking before you could think twice about it. “More…”

Chris immediately complied, smacking one of your buttcheeks again, groaning lowly as your moans spilled freely out in the room without his cock in your mouth.

He repeated the motions a handful of times, all while you jerked him to the best of your now compromised motor skills. Your moans got increasingly more desperate the more he spanked you, and your whole body trembled with arousal.

“Pretty…” Chris mumbled, keeping you off of him enough so you could hear him, although you barely could, you were too far gone. “Put my cock back in your mouth, baby. Suck me off, and when I spank you again, you can come. Okay?” 

“Okay…”

“Good, good girl”, Chris pulled you back on his mouth, eliciting a shaky moan from your lips. 

You did as asked, taking him once again into your mouth and sucking him, rather eagerly, if you might add. Your lips caught on the ridge of his head time and time again, his tongue and his lips focused on your clit, licking and sucking harder and faster by the second, just how he did whenever he wanted you to come, and when you finally felt the sting on your ass again, you could hardly make sense of your surroundings anymore.

Before you knew it, your entire body shook with your release, desperately moaning around Chris’ length as pleasure tears fell from your eyes. It was so much, so intense, and when Chris held the back of your head in place with one of his hands and started to thrust up into your mouth you were sure you had already died and gone to heaven.

It felt like you were coming for an eternity, the sheer intensity of your release had you shaking and squirming in your boyfriend’s hold. The most satisfying part of it all, though, was when you vaguely registered Chris’ warmth flooding your mouth, making you moan once again just at the feel of his cum going down your throat, making you dizzy just by the blissed-out sounds that were coming out of his mouth. 

You swallowed it all, sucking on his tip until the very last drop of his release had coated your tongue, and as soon as Chris detached himself from your core, your body slumped, your vision clouded, and a ringing broke free in your ears.

“Baby? Baby, please. Talk to me”, Chris sounded so close. But how could he if your heads were in completely opposite directions?

“Pretty?” You felt his hands on your cheeks, and once you opened your eyes and saw the worried look on his face, you realised you were laying on the sofa, while he was crouching on the floor next to you. When did he move? He was just below you a few seconds ago. 

“Did I…Did I pass out?” You blinked at him, reaching for his hand on your face to softly caress the back of it. 

“Fuck, you did. For a few seconds. I thought I had choked you to death. Are you okay? I’m so sorry”, he was going into his Protective Alpha mode, and it made you smile. 

“I’m fine, baby. Don’t apologise. Give me a kiss”, you did feel a bit lightheaded, but you also felt light all over, as if your crushing orgasm had taken all the tension off of your body completely.

Chris sighed, pecking your lips, your nose, your cheeks, all over your face. “Fuck, give me a second. I’ll bring you some water”. 

You simply hummed, stretching your achy limbs and turning on your other side to face the backrest.

When Chris came back, you gulped the glass of water in one go before you gave it back to him so he could place it on the coffee table. 

You made grabby hands at him, and he chuckled, laying behind you and pulling you to his chest so he could press kisses on your shoulder.

“That was insane”, you mumbled while you caressed the arm he had wrapped around your waist. 

“It was, fuck…I got too carried away, you’re all bruised, love”, his fingers gently traced the curve of your bum, and you leaned into his touch. 

“Felt so good, though”, you sighed, content, further pressing your back to his chest. “So good I passed out, baby. That’s a new record”. 

Chris giggled, and you couldn’t help but giggle as well. 

“Do you feel better?” You asked, snuggling closer, relishing his warmth on your back, his warmth all around you.

“I feel like I won a million euros, a billion dollars, a trillion won…You get the point”, Chris nuzzled your nape, pressing lingering kisses there, all as he brought a hand to your belly to lightly squish your soft flesh. “Honestly just what I needed. For my pretty girlfriend to feel insanely good, and to blow my load in her perfect, warm mouth”.

You chuckled, taking a hold of his hand and bringing it to your lips so you could press a kiss on his palm, right before you turned around in his hold and cupped his cheeks, smiling at him. “I love you”. 

“Love you”, he repeated immediately, diving in for a kiss. When he pulled back, he held you tightly, pressing kisses on your cheeks. “You’re so good to me”.

“And you to me, baby”, you mumbled back, kissing him on the cheek before you tucked your head under his chin.

You both laid there for a moment, a moment of just your soft caresses on each other’s exposed skin. Until Chris heaved a satisfied sigh, pulling away from your embrace to stand up from the sofa.

“C’mon, pretty. Time to be pampered and cuddle in the tub”, Chris took you in his arms. A soft chuckle left your lips, and you held onto him, pressing tender kisses on his neck all the way to the bathroom.

© therhythmafterthesummer 2023. all rights reserved. do not repost or translate my stories.

figured i’d tag anyone that wants to be tagged in my wereroomies instalments. if you don’t want to be tagged in little ask responses like these let me know !

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[adorawasright]

Hello! I just saw ur post saying g hintlow is badly written in your opinion. Could you please tell me why you think so? I'm kinda curious?

I also didn't really like huntlow since it kinda came outta no where all of a sudden but what do you think??

*cracks knuckles* (just kidding lol)

Honestly, I just think H/untlow has several writing problems. I'll be pointing out the main reasons I think so under the cut. If anyone who follows me or comes across this post ships H/untlow, it's totally fine, just please don't send me hate for what I'll say here:

Hunter and Willow have nothing in common. The show forces the "half a witch" thing onto Hunter despite the fact he was never called that anywhere in the show, he's usually just called annoying or a brat. Besides, Hunter could be a metaphor for disability considering he doesn't have natural magic powers (until the show decided to kill off Flapjack, but I'll get into that later). However, Willow is not the case. She may not be good at abomination magic, but she's incredibly powerful with plant magic. But for some reason, the show treats these experiences as equals, even though that's a thing Hunter has more in common with Luz than Willow (and in this case I'm not talking through a romantic lens).

Hunter and Willow are out of character. Hunter, the prodigy and the emperor's right hand, becomes utterly pathetic and wimpy just so Willow can look like a badass girlboss. And Willow then just comes off as cruel sometimes. I appreciate Willow for being nice but also being a badass, but even then, Willow was never cruel prior to her meeting Hunter. She apologized to Luz when she realized she could've hurt her, and when Willow met Gus she was patient and understanding, teaching him a breathing technique to calm him down. I'm not saying Willow has to be overly nice, but she just randomly captures Hunter to make him join her flyer derby team. And at this point she doesn't even know that Hunter is the Golden Guard, so she just... attacks a random kid and scares him for no reason. Worse yet the fact that she drags him into the ground THE SAME WAY BELOS DOES in Hollow Mind. Even after Hunter tells her he's "half a witch", Willow isn't patient with him, she's just a brute again. Which is my next point:

Unhealthy power dynamic. Hunter refers to Willow as "captain", and it's honestly a red flag to me. I am NOT saying Willow is abusive. However, we have to remember that Hunter's abuser uses his position of power to mistreat him. Hunter looks up to someone who's not an equal to him and in turn, he does not value himself. And Willow never seems to realize it and explicitly say that she's not his leader, she's his friend. This pairing is basically the girlboss/malewife model, but not only does it not make sense, it's not healthy for Hunter to fall in love with someone who has power over him, and who might be paralleled to his abuser as I pointed out before.

Ruined character arcs. I think most of us agree that Hunter's character arc was unsatisfactory as he became another Caleb without ever processing it, but Willow was definitely done dirty as well. Willow never had her own episode, not even Understanding Willow was about her, it was more about Amity. Any Sport in a Storm also focuses more on Hunter. Even Gus had more character development than Willow, despite the fact he was also done dirty in the end. Willow's breakdown wasn't carefully developed, it was never hinted in Thanks to Them or anywhere before that. It came out of nowhere in For the Future, and in turn it just pushed Hunter's character (and Gus, literally) aside so he could save Willow. And this is yet ANOTHER point I hate:

Willow only reciprocates Hunter's crush when he gains powers. Seriously, for the longest time I didn't even think H/untlow was going to be mutual. Only Hunter seemed to be attracted to Willow, by blushing and being shy around her. Willow never seems to see Hunter in another light in the following episodes, not even in Thanks to Them despite them living with each other for months. That only happens in For the Future, which left a bad taste in my mouth. Like I said before, Hunter might be considered disabled, but his disability is "cured" with magic, and ONLY THEN does Willow fall for him. That contradicts the entire message of the show, which welcomes and celebrates disabilities.

And overall, Hunter and Willow never have a genuine emotional connection. Hunter has more connection and things in common with Luz, Gus, and even Amity (and sadly, his parallels with Amity were never really explored after Eclipse Lake). Hunter and Luz don't have magical powers. Hunter and Gus are both taken advantage of by others, and they have an identity crisis, not knowing how to trust themselves anymore. Hunter and Amity then, they were both raised in an abusive household and they're expected to be someone they're not, and they have to push everyone else down so they can be better. But Hunter and Willow don't share this kind of connection. They might touch on the "half a witch" thing but that never deepens. And in For the Future, it comes off as rushed, and Hunter has to push down his grief for Flapjack to save Willow. Not to mention Gus and Hunter never get to talk about Caleb - Gus always knew about Hunter's secret, and not even THAT gets a satisfying payoff because the show is more concerned in making H/untlow canon. But that would have to be its own post.

Sorry this got long, lmao. I have very strong feelings about how H/untlow was handled. I actually used to ship it at first, I think it COULD'VE worked. But they don't even seem to be close friends at the very least. It sucks because even R/aeda was written better despite the fact it had less screentime than L/umity. Sure, Eda and Raine were ex-lovers, but I thought their relationship was written very well for the most part. I don't know how the writers dropped the ball with H/untlow this way.

[violettaskies]

To Share A Kiss The Devil Has Known

(ch. 2)

Pairing: Eddie Munson x you // Eddie Munson x f!reader // perv!Eddie Munson x innocent!reader

Genre: romance, mild smut, Catholic trauma, religious trauma, friends to lovers, slow burn

Notes: thank you for all the support on the first part! there is one more chapter after this one (three in total) // Eddie is kinda pervy lol // he’s kinda dark but also not // i tried to write him to be as much of a consent king as possible // honestly, you can just read this without reading the first ch lol but that would help with tiny details!

Warnings: MINORS DNI, 18+ ONLY, NSFW // talks of religion, reader's parents are religious, light manipulation, pillow humping, humping, first times, dacryphilia, corruption kink, praise kink, masturbation // please let me know if there should be more added, thank you!

ao3 // chapter one // chapter three // masterlist // series masterlist

-:-:-:-:-

To say Eddie was ecstatic as he drove to your home, is an understatement. He had driven you there countless times after school or the rare late-night tutoring sessions, but he has never gone inside. There was never a reason to. Especially since you both were often only together during school hours and only meeting each other during weekends on the rare occasion you didn’t have a church obligation. 

How he longed to enter the holy house he passed by every few nights to see if you were still awake late into the evening after he finished band rehearsal. Eddie wondered what it is that you did when the light was on, but your shadow was nowhere near the desk next to the bedroom window. 

Little did he know, today was the day he would find out. 

“You seem a little too excited to work on an English project, Eddie,” you said once you noticed that you weren’t the only one in the car who was jittering in their seat. 

“Oh, I’m dreading the work, believe me,” he chuckled. “What I am excited for is the fact that I’m going into your sanctuary for the first time. Now I can find out your dirty little secrets.”

The raspiness in his both scared and excited you. “Hm?” You looked at him for the first time with wide eyes and a shaky voice. 

“Does this mean we get to go into your room too?” Eddie teased. 

“My room? N-no, we can’t go in there.” Inviting the muse of your sins into your home was one thing, going into your room would only make you feel God’s wrath ten-fold. 

“Oooh, she is hiding something, isn’t she?” Eddie wound you up again, keeping one hand on the steering wheel while the other tried to tickle your leg — you backed away again. 

You ignored his teasing, speaking to him in a barely audible whisper: “we’ll work in the basement where my father’s study is. He won’t be using it today since it’s Monday and it’s his day off.”

“Will you tell me what’s bothering you before we head in?” The Dealer said with a pout as he parked in your driveway. “Was it something a person did? Something I did?” If his perverted ways were caught, he wanted to find out now. “You promised you’d tell me, you never break your promises.”

The guilt was eating you up now. Lying, sinning, breaking commandments, and now you’re on the path to breaking promises. If you were alone right now, you would cry; instead, one tear escaped your eyes. 

“I promise, it’s nothing,” the lie came easily this time. “Let’s head inside, please, Eddie.” 

“Alright,” he didn’t want to admit just how beautiful you looked while you cried. 

Once Eddie had opened the passenger for you and let you lead the way into the house, both of your hearts were beating quickly. It became clear that the two of you were nervous about one thing or another – but, there was one consistent anxious thought: your parents were home. 

As you attempted to unlock the front door with shaky hands, the keys rattling a bit louder than what a normal person would be doing, Eddie whispered in your ear.

“I’ll be on my best behaviour, no need to worry,” his voice was husky, resonating through your body with every syllable, and his hot breath on your skin since he pushed your hair to the side without you noticing. It was hard to recognize things with everything going on in your head; so much so, that you didn’t get the opportunity to twist the lock correctly as you turned your head quickly to face him. 

Just then, the door opened, key still in the hole and your hand on the handle — leading you to trip slightly at the door frame. “Darling, you’re home early,” your mother’s sweet, but very confused, voice greeted you at the entrance. 

“Sorry I called earlier saying I would be home late, but then the library was full so we couldn’t work there,” you said meekly whilst taking a step away from Eddie to rid your figures of the compromising position you were just in. 

“Come inside, and tell me who your friend is,” the sheer nervousness in her voice was comedic. Your mother knew exactly who this was. Why you allowed him into this Catholic home, she’ll never understand. 

“W-well this is Eddie, he’s the one whose locker is right next to mine,” you stated, looking over at the boy who was nervous in front of you for the first time in your friendship. He must have felt you glance over at him, since Eddie tilted his head up to mouth: ‘you talk about me?’ before winking in your direction. The smiles that appeared on both of your nervous faces went away quickly. 

A loud cough shocked you, making you two break eye contact, and jump slightly at the sound as you were taking your shoes off. “Munson?”

“Yes, sir.” There were times Eddie hated his last name when older people used it — since they would automatically think of his father. 

“What are you doing in my house?” The anger in your own father’s voice was frightening. Yes, he told you to stay away from Eddie. But Eddie was always nice to you, always sweet and caring; never did you see him commit sins in front of you, so you thought. 

“We were assigned on a project together,” you cut off your own conflicted thoughts. “It’s due Wednesday. However, tomorrow we’re both busy so we wanted to finish it tonight,” the leg-bouncing came back again. “May we please use the basement, dad? You have lots of books in there we could—"

“No,” there was a fire in your father’s eyes that intensified your freight as he began a staredown with your project partner. The man was mad — the first time his daughter brought a friend home and it’s a boy, Eddie Munson for that matter. The boy was known around town for committing the sinful acts of the Devil. Now you’re asking to spend the entire night with him, alone in a dark room? Over his dead body.  

Your mother came to the rescue to ease the tension, “of course you can, I’ll even bring down snacks, and dinner too, since we were planning on ordering take-out tonight anyways.” She looked over at your father with threatening eyes, trying to make him notice that his daughter was on the verge of tears in front of a guest.

“That’s alright, I can take care of—”

“Oh, she’ll be taking care of me alright,” Eddie said in your father’s direction with a sinister smirk, then looked to your mother sweetly. “But, I don’t mean to intrude. I can grab dinner on my way home.”

“Nonsense, you two head downstairs and I’ll bring some water and the strawberries that were new at the store today.”

Eddie couldn’t help but notice the sweet similarities between you and your mother. On the other hand, he really loved pissing off your dad — if all the old man could see was the spawn of Satan, then Eddie was going to give it to him.

“Thank you, ma’am. Now, why don’t you lead the way, Angel?” he said while casually placing a hand on your shoulder, then leading a trail to your neck to loop his fingers through your silver chain. Eddie made sure that he glanced in your father’s direction, when you slightly whimpered at the tug and looked up at the long-haired man. 

“S-sure, it’s this way. See you guys later then,” you were a stuttering mess, trying to speak to your parents while guiding Eddie through your house. 

The only thing you hoped was that once you were alone with Eddie again, your mind would focus on the work; not the intensifying feeling of guilt which made your heart and legs ache. 

-:-:-:-:-

Once the backpacks were on the floor next to the sofa, the contents of your pencil case spread out on the large table your father had in the basement, and a lined sheet of paper with a brainstorm of scratches all over it — the project was well on its way to be completed. At first, since Eddie barely cracked the book open, you two needed to read the assigned chapter. He mentioned that he wouldn’t be able to focus unless you took turns reading it aloud, so that’s what you did. At one point, your mother came down and set some fruit on the coffee table, where you would take a bite of a strawberry whenever you were not reading a page — Eddie did the same thing. 

In truth, he was barely listening to the story, only staring at how your lips became more plump and pink as each paragraph was read. The Dealer hoped that you wouldn’t notice how he inches closer to you on the couch slowly. So that by the time the final page was finished, your knees were touching. 

“Such a pretty voice,” Eddie teased when you stopped reading, nearly whispering it in your ear. Now you started to tense up again. 

“Yours is nicer, I guess it’s because of all your Dungeons & Dragons games,” you awkwardly giggle whilst moving to the left. 

“Maybe you should play one day, but I don’t think you want more of the Devil inside of you,” he chuckled to himself, not realizing how the words made your heart drop. 

“W-what do you mean by that?” your eyes went wide with guilt as you responded. 

“Oh, you know,” Eddie elongated the final syllable momentarily. “I can tell you’re keeping secrets from me. You said it was nothing someone else or I did that’s bothering you. That must mean it’s something you did, huh?” 

His curiousity was always something you enjoyed, it led to your imagination to grow in return. But now, this tendency of his was only making you more nervous if he found out what you did.

You wouldn’t be his good girl anymore.

“We should work on the project now,” you said sternly, ignoring his question. 

“Whatever you say, sweetheart.” He flashed his signature smile and wink, then stretched his body from the couch. Then with a tap to your shoulder, you followed him to the large table. 

After three hours, the report itself was done. Mainly you did the majority of the analysis while you asked Eddie what he thought about your points. Luckily, his creativity ran wild so you could just build on what he would say to make his profound words sound professional. Then, as you two were grabbing construction paper and poster board from your mother’s craft stash in the basement, she came down to give you both a simple take-out container of Chinese food. 

Truly, she had been checking up on you two every half-hour. Even going as far as taking you to the side to whisper: “don’t do anything unjust or sinful with that boy. He has a reputation and your father is just beside himself with fear as to what the Munson-child will do to you.” Although she had been the polite host to Eddie, she was always the Catholic housewife who cared more about people’s virtue than anything else. 

Not that your mother had anything to worry about tonight. Thus far, you were so focused on the task at hand that you barely had any unsavoury thoughts about your friend. Like how when Eddie would put his chin on your shoulder as you wrote down what he would say in your ear, making sure that he rubbed your back as he was doing so. You didn’t recognize that whenever you responded to him with a ‘yeah,’ it came out in a whimper sometimes. Even when The Dealer had gone on a tangent explaining something, and he flailed his arms in the air, only to land them on the table — leaning forward and stared intensely into your eyes; you barely noticed how your thighs squeezed together at the tingling feeling between. 

But Eddie noticed, he noticed everything and was loving it. He knew that the project would take your mind off of what was bothering you, so he went back to his regularly scheduled programming. This time though, instead of your sweet smiles and giggles to his antics — you were biting your lip, crossing your legs tightly, and blushing while you laughed. As you two ate dinner at the coffee table while sitting on the floor, Eddie couldn’t help but glance down at the skin of your thighs peaking through the bottom of your skirt; especially how you didn’t fix it like you usually do. Something really was going on with you today. 

“Do you wanna play some music while we work on the presentation part? What type of music does your dad have in here anyways?” Eddie asked while eyeing you suspiciously and eating an egg roll. He was going to try and make you talk about something other than school for the first time in four hours. 

“A lot of gospel music.”

“Seriously?” He looked at you with wide eyes and an even wider smile of disbelief. 

“Yes, he likes listening to that type of stuff, I do too,” you said defensively.

The man walks up to your father’s record player and the shelf of records that are lined up behind it. You were right. “Not even The Beatles or The Rolling Stones? Your old man probably has something.” 

“I’ve never heard him listen to that before. Your uncle has them though, right? We listened to them when I tutored you last year. Those songs were really nice to listen to.” You stood next to him and as he graced his fingers on the spines of the cardboard cases. 

“That’s right, my smart girl.” Eddie groaned and chose one of the records that mentioned it was only instrumentals. It would be better than nothing, so he gave it to you to start playing. “We should put this on, because I’m sure that any of this Christian music will make me burn up,” he emphasized his words by pretending to be burned with holy water, like in the movies. “I’m a sinner, baby,” he chokes out. 

He was just joking around, you knew that. But you stood there with the record in your hand, frozen in place for a moment, before quietly saying: “I think we should finish up this presentation, Eddie.” Then passed the vinyl back to him to input in the record player. You quickly walked to the large table with your silver crucifix between your fingers, while Eddie stood with gears turning in his head. 

That was it. 

Just from mentioning the word ‘sin’ and you were shaking with a fear he has never seen from you since that one time Eddie showed you his tattoo of a demon. Only this time, your fear looked like it traumatized you. 

What could have happened to make you feel this way? Did you sin and your Catholic guilt was eating you up? — the questions plagued his mind as he went over to your fidgeting figure sitting at the work table again. 

-:-:-:-:-

It was nearly eleven o’clock when Eddie and yourself were almost done with the presentation. Whichever teacher in the staff room thought that this project could be done in two days was probably delusional. It took you two almost nine hours to do the bare minimum. Alas, as you and Eddie stood at the table, adding paint and construction paper to the biggest piece of poster board your mom hoarded, it was close to the finish line. While there were instances where your guilt would reappear more often now than before dinner — your mind was still focused on the project.

That was until your father’s voice echoed through the basement’s halls for the first time tonight. He stood at the stairs, still being able to see you and Eddie nearly climbing the table to finish the poster. Still, there was fire in his eyes. 

“Are you two almost finished, yet? It’s pretty late and you both have school in the morning,” he said sternly, but only staring down the young Munson. 

“Almost, dad, we just need to wait for this to dry up and practice the presentation with it,” your voice was quiet as your eyes went from your father’s crossed arms to Eddie’s sinister smile. 

“When will you be going home, Munson?” 

“Oh I don't know, whenever she finishes,” he knew that your father understood the innuendo; however, you stood there tilting your head in confusion. 

Your father scoffs loudly before giving Eddie one last threatening look, then turns to you. “Wrap it up whenever you can. I’m heading to bed, but your mother will be upstairs, so no dilly dallying.” You’re pretty sure that comment was meant for the boy standing with horrible posture next to you, but it still registered as a threat in your head.

“Goodnight, dad,” you nodded, looking up at him with big eyes as he began to walk up the stairs. But, a slightly taunting voice made your father stop in his tracks. 

“Sweet dreams, we’ll be having lots of fun down here,” Eddie said with his smile getting wider with each word. You thought he was just trying to make your father laugh a bit before leaving — with a sarcastic tone towards the school project. But it looks like the scoff your father made, indicated that it didn’t go through; in actuality, your father could see the new innuendo the young man was doing, but decided not to be the overbearing father for once. 

As his steps became fainter, you looked towards Eddie who was now putting a cigarette in his mouth, “what did you mean? When you said, ‘whenever she finishes.’?” you asked. He tried his best not to let his lips curl upwards at his joy of seeing you so innocent to the sexual joke.

“U-uhh nothing.” 

“Good, because. I’m not doing all this work all on my own, we’ve been doing this as partners this whole time. Let’s finish together.” The amount of times he has imagined your voice saying those last three words in his ears was unfathomable — he would memorize this snippet for the rest of his life. Eddie was so enthralled by your words that he didn’t notice that you took the cigarette out of his mouth and was speaking to him again. “You can’t smoke that in here.”

“Your old man smokes.” 

“That’s different, he only smokes cigars and they smell nicer.”

“Tell me where they are and I’ll have my first one tonight,” he winked at you with a smile. 

In an instant, he took the stick back from your fingers and placed it between his lips again. “Eddie, I don’t want you getting in trouble,” you sighed in defeat. “Do you promise to finish the title on the poster while I write up the script on cards, if I let you finish that one cigarette?”

“You could always share it with me so I can finish it faster,” he teased. “Or do you not want to give in to the Devil’s temptation again?”

“A-again?” you stuttered.

Eddie stayed silent for a moment, lighting his cigarette then picked up the letter cut outs to start applying glue on them. “You feel guilty for something, don’t you? Did you sin, sweet girl? You’ve been dodging the topic all day and the only time I was able to read the thoughts behind your eyes was when I brought up the word ‘sin,’ you’re even shaking now just like you did a couple hours ago.” 

He was speaking so nonchalantly. You couldn’t take your eyes away from Eddie’s fingers as they move quickly on the paper, then up to his lips to hold the stick between them. Guilt was eating you up quickly now. No matter how long it subsided, it always came back. Now, even more so since the muse of your sins is starting to figure you out. But then, you remembered: “f-fine, I mentioned that I would tell you after we finished, so m-maybe I’ll be ready t-to tell you then.”

“Looks like you better finish up those cards fast, because I’m ready to hear it all, baby.”

This was it. 

The beginning of your end. 

As you let Eddie use the table, you moved over to the couch, wanting to be far away from him for a little while. Trying to calm your nerves, think of the words to say, whether you would tell him the truth or not, theorizing what he would think of you if you did decide to confess: they were all reasons to stay apart. Especially so The Dealer didn’t see your shaky hands finish up the cue cards. 

Eddie is going to hate me — the words repeated in your head every few moments. You were his sweet girl, the one who read the Bible as often as he read the Lord of the Rings books, the one who needed him to explain dirty jokes to you that people said around school. You weren’t supposed to unknowingly sin for weeks on end with his voice being the imaginary guide to help you find the most relief. After hearing condemnation from your friend at Bible study and your beloved priest right afterwards, you weren’t so sure how your heart would take seeing Eddie’s disgust with you. At this rate, the cue cards were going to be ineligible when you two needed to glance down at them on Wednesday. 

Even from a few feet away, Eddie swears he could hear the gears turning in your head, alongside the continuous pattern of leg shaking. He felt bad, truly. You were always one to be so kind to everyone, so giving and polite. That no matter how much he wanted to know the dirty little secret that was causing you so much pain, what he really wanted to do was just take it all away. Eddie hoped that if you did decide to tell him the truth, that you would feel better afterwards. But, you wouldn’t be able to tell him anything clearly if you were full of anxiety. So he lit another cigarette, making sure you were still busy writing on cue cards with furrowed brows, and walked towards your father���s record player. The selection was absurd, but the soft instrumentals might help soothe your soul. 

In a way, The Dealer regrets teasing you so much about it. You were fine when you were distracted by the project, but now that it was almost over and you were amping yourself up to confess something – you looked like you were about to cry like you did this morning. It was both cute and caused a strain in his heart. Eddie thought back to seeing you first thing this morning and how much has happened to lead up to this point, as he sets a new record to play then jumps on the couch next to you. 

“Almost done, princess?”

“Y-yeah, this is the last card. But it’s messy since my hand hurts and I’m sleepy,” you try to lie a bit to see if he would mention you should sleep instead of having a basement confessional.

The lying was coming to you easily, you really were trying to hide something from him, Eddie thought. “Well then, I would call this an extremely successful night. We’re gonna ace this.”

“Hopefully, weren’t you failing this class because of the last test?”

“Yes, but now because of you, my little Angel, I’m gonna get my grades up,” he winked at you as he continued inhaling cigarette smoke and exhaling it behind him. 

“Please don’t call me that,” you said, putting down the cue cards on the table and then squeezing the fabric of your skirt out of sheer nervousness.

The way your heart was beating out of your chest was hurting you. It felt the same way yesterday when you walked to the confessional at church — and that didn’t turn out so well. So why would it be any different if you tell someone else your sins?

“You’ve been hot and cold all day. If it’s a serious problem and you don't want to tell me about it then maybe you should tell your parents.” 

You were so entranced by your own beating heart that you didn’t notice that Eddie put out his cigarette and sat right next to you in the middle of the couch, while you were leaning slightly on the left arm. 

“I couldn’t possibly tell them, Eddie. I’m already too scared to tell you,” you gasped with tears welling up in your eyes. 

He cautiously reached an arm around you, unsure if you would accept it or not — now that you weren’t distracted by the project, Eddie feared the aching feeling that occurred whenever you pulled away from him throughout the day. This time though, you welcomed it as he started to stroke your skin with this thumb. “It’s probably not as bad as you think it is. Hell, I’ve probably done a lot worse in the past three days,” Eddie chuckled in your ear. 

“Do you like sinning, Eddie?” It’s now or never, you decided to blurt out part of the thoughts lingering in your head. 

“What?”

“The things you do, the things you’re known for. My parents say it’s a form of sinning. But that doesn’t make you a bad person.”

You said your words nearly into his chest, as you went to face him but didn’t have the courage to look him in the eye. Eddie thought it was endearing, “do you think I’m a bad person?” He wasn’t sure if he wanted to know your answer though. 

“No,” you exclaimed. “Not at all. It’s just— 

“If you’re uncomfortable, you don’t need to—” he tried to cut you off, but your quiet voice took over the room. 

“If sinning is so bad, then why does it feel so good?” You finally said aloud the questions that were haunting you. “Why are you still the nicest person I know, when everyone else says that you could be a bad influence on me?”  you looked up at Eddie now, shivering at how close he was to your face. 

“On Sunday, I saw you walk out of the church,” things were starting to click. 

“I went to confession that day and —”

You sobbed, not being able to contain the conflicting emotions you were feeling. The guilt of your sins, and how you wanted nothing more than to do it again.

You’re going to Hell. This confessional is just going to seal it. 

“You don’t need to tell me if you don’t want to. But it may make you feel better.” On the other hand, Eddie wants nothing more than to know your sins, and figure out why you wanted to keep it a secret from him. 

Judging by the way you’re continuously clenching your thighs together, he has an idea what it could be. 

“I shouldn’t,” you say nervously. Just then, Eddie unwraps his arm around you and you whimper at the lost comforting feeling. He kneels in front of you instead. His touch never left you though: placing a trail from your shoulder, to your back, then down your right arm to ultimately grasp your hands. As he held both your hands in one of his, the other stroked your thigh lightly before joining all four of your hands together. 

 You didn’t want to admit that it felt really good. 

“Trust me, anything you did that’s making you feel guilty, everyone else has probably done a million times worse,” Eddie said with a grin. 

“Promise not to tell?”

“Promise,” he tried to soothe your shaking legs by pressing his arm down on your thighs momentarily.

“A-and you won’t judge me?” You try to confirm it. 

“Never.”

You quiet your sobs for a moment, not even breathing, in order to hear if your mother had started getting ready for bed. She has, since the television in the living room was turned off and there were no sounds of footsteps in the kitchen. So you look at Eddie again, tears still escaping your eyes. 

Although he loves the vision of you shedding tears in his arms, he wipes some away with his sleeve. Then places his hand back down to your left thigh, stroking it slowly to try and calm you down. It works, but at the exact same time, it doesn’t. The town nominated the man in front of you as a pawn to Satan — and to you, he was just as bad as the snake in the garden of Eden. He’s the reason why you’re in this predicament. It’s his hands, lips, and tongue that you picture every night as you sin without guilt. Well, until this weekend. 

“Sometimes when I go to bed, it’s hard for me to fall asleep because there’s something bothering me. Like my body doesn’t want to sleep until I t-take care of it.” You try your best to not stutter as you whisper the genesis of your guilt. Eddie knows exactly where the words are leading to. It takes every ounce of strength in his body not to push you too hard for his perverted agenda. 

“What bothers you?” He asks while stroking your clenched hands with his left hand’s thumb. While the fingers on his right are circling your thigh in tiny patterns, inching closer to the hem of your skirt, but never going past it. 

“Everything,” you croak out. “Like I needed a massage on every inch of my skin.”

Eddie chooses his next words carefully, trying to get you to say what he wants to hear: the confession. “If massaging your back and neck makes you feel this guilty, I could always do it for you,” he smiles with a small chuckle, causing you to follow. 

“That’s not –”

“Then tell me,” he said through a smile. 

You clench your legs together out of nervousness. Only to notice that Eddie had placed his fingers atop the middle of your thighs, right where they met. Your thighs had accidentally squished the calloused digits – nearly causing you to want to whimper, but you spoke instead. 

“U-uhm, well,” you paused, “at night when I can’t sleep, there’s no need to massage my neck because that’s not the place that’s bothering me the most. It’s m-my–” Eddie’s eyes widen to urge you to continue.

“Remember, I promised not to judge you,” he says while stroking the skin of your hands in his. But you let your left hand leave the warmth, and moved it slowly to the silver crucifix at your neck. After a moment you made a trail down to the side of your hip — too afraid to point at the other spot that ached more. 

“Here, right here.” The way you bite your lip makes you think it’s about to draw blood. “I feel like I need to move my hips back and forth. S-so I do.” 

Eddie smiles, he’s getting there. It will only take a few more seconds until he hears the full confession, he can feel it. “That’s it, sweetheart? That’s not so bad, I’ve heard and done worse, trust me,” The Dealer says, trying to emit a competitive spirit within you to see if that will push you over the edge.

“No, the part that makes it a sin were my thoughts and what I did to them. You see, I–”

“There we go,” Eddie begins to massage between your clenched legs to try and pry them open so he could start stroking upon your inner thighs. Your body lets him before your mind has the opportunity to tell you otherwise. Your thighs are only an inch apart, but it’s enough room for Eddie to tease the sensitive skin.

“I get a pillow and put it between my legs. At first, I thought that maybe my muscles were stiff so that’s why I did it, honest,” you quietly exclaim to prove your innocent initial thoughts. 

“Don’t worry, babygirl,” he lifts the hand that’s holding yours and kisses your knuckles sweetly. The action makes you whimper. “Pillows are soft, they’re nice. I don’t see any sinning yet though,” he says deeply as a response to your story and both of your bodies tonight. 

“Then, I started to move my hips slowly because the rest of my body felt stiff. So I did, and it felt really n-nice,” you continue your story while barely looking him in the eye, but still following the movements of his hand on your thigh. “I kept going and going until I rolled over onto my stomach to get the ache from my muscles to go away from another angle.”

Eddie knew exactly what you were doing, and he prayed for the first time in a while to keep his hardness hidden from your beautifully tear-filled eyes. “Now that, my darling, is dirty. Tell me more.” If he wasn’t able to do anything with you tonight then at least he was going to memorize this story to replay in his imagination later. 

“The Devil took over me, the priest said the other day. He didn’t hear anything from me after what I just told you. But he was right, Eddie. My body moved on its own. There was this throbbing feeling that kept getting stronger.”

“Where was it doing that?” He asked with feign-innocence in his voice. He knew what you were going to say next, so Eddie lifted your skirt slightly so his fingers could make their way closer to your core. 

“You’re close to it now,” you can’t even say it out loud, so you squeeze his left hand out of nervousness – hoping that what you said is enough to satiate his curiosity. 

Eddie chuckles a bit at your innocence. “Oh, right here,” he places his right hand over your skirt now, laying it above your mound so you could get the picture. You nod hesitantly before he continues. “Did the throbbing feel good though?” he teases you with the question, and you nod again. “Words, sweetheart.”

“Y-yes, Eddie, it felt so good. At one point it was so strong, then it would go away.” There was a sense of sadness in your eyes as you pouted. “But, then I would do it again until I was sleepy.” 

His hand that’s holding yours, lets go for the first time so that he can hold your face with both hands.

Damn the Church for making you feel that way about your pleasure. If he had the chance, he would show you every single way the human body could reach its climax. That would be a real miracle that would make him believe in God. 

“So this is what has put you in such a mood for two days, huh? The words your priest has told you stuck in your head.” He wipes away the abundance of tears from your face so that you stop involuntarily swallowing the remnants of your emotions. 

“Well, it started Saturday, after Bible study. I was talking to my friend about it to see if she knew what I was talking about. She gasped so loud and told me it was sinning because of how I did it to myself and didn’t stop.”

“She doesn’t know what she’s talking about,” he tried to ease your tension.

“But, Eddie,” you exclaimed a little too loudly. He even placed a finger on your lips to hush your tone— scared that you would wake your father up. “She is right. I did that every single day for weeks and weeks. With different things too. Like my stuffed panda, different pillows on my bed, and that towel you let me keep –” 

You’re not completely sure why you were confessing more to Eddie than you did to your own priest. Let alone confess one part about him. But it felt nice to get everything off your chest tonight.

“Look at me, making my cameo in your dirty fantasy,” he giggles before placing a kiss to the side of your mouth. It made you blush to feel his soft lips on your skin, you craved more. “What I’m understanding is that you haven’t been able to do this activity for three days now?” you nodded at the question, too scared to respond vocally because you might let some more slip. 

Eddie took a moment to think about what to say next. This was more difficult than writing a song or doing a math test. Plus, if the strain on his jeans was any indication of how badly he yearned to help you, then the dam was about to burst. 

Every single day for weeks and weeks, the words repeated in his head. 

That means every time he has sat next to you in fourth period, every time you talked to him at his locker, or whenever you sat with his club at lunch — Eddie was talking to an innocent Angel who masturbates and brings herself to multiple orgasms every night without even realizing it. If the man had known, he would’ve invited himself over earlier so he could assist you in your beautiful fantasy. Maybe so that you didn’t need to use his towel to get yourself off, but him instead. 

He continued, “why don’t I help you? That would make it better, won’t it?”

“B-but, that means you’re sinning too,” you squeak out quietly. Not sure if the tears still running down your face are from relief, guilt, or both. 

“I already always do,” he says with a smile. The Dealer keeps one hand on your face while the other places a trail of featherlight touches from your neck to the tops of your thighs. Once it’s there, he massages circles, causing you to rub them together unintentionally. “And you said it was a sin because you did it to yourself. What if I helped you and did all the work? That’s a loophole since this pretty little pussy you have won’t need to do anything.”

Hearing the word out loud made you shiver. Eddie had said it in a way that made you throb in the same way you did all those nights prior. “When you put it that way –”

“We don’t need to do anything you don’t want to. Seriously, this can stop any time whenever you hear the Angel on your shoulder scream at you.”

“I have something else to confess, Eddie.” One of your hands met up with his at your thigh, stroking the veins on his hands that you imagined so often. “You’re my Devil: the only thing that crosses my mind when I sin, tempting me to do so much more,” the words spill out of your mouth quickly, since you feel comfortable enough with this confessional with him — he deserves to know what you’re thinking of. 

“Oh my God,” Eddie groans, squeezing your thigh and rutting against the couch so he could relieve some tension of his hardening member. He really thought he was going to be doing all the seduction tonight, but he was oh so wrong.

“Why do my sins make me feel so good, if they’re so bad?” you pause at the question you've asked about for the second time tonight . “If I’m damned like they say I am, then that means I’m going to Hell,” the quiet voice that emits from your throat is full of guilt and nervousness. 

“Then let's be damned and burn in Hell together, baby. You’re gonna love it,” Eddie says. 

Your Devil, your vessel of temptation, the one person who made you cross the line from being pure to the second-biggest sinner you know — leans forward to capture your lips with his, and oh how you loved it. 

-:-:-:-:-

taglist: @bbyhargrove // @delightfulwinnerdiplomatpalace // @littlemrsmunson // @lolalanaie

[shaunashipman]

Hi. We don’t know each other, but I follow all your 911 posts, and so far you’re one of the only people I follow who is approaching this bullshit breakup storyline with the same level of anger as I am lol. Everyone else I’ve seen just seems heartbroken, which is their right (and I am too tbh), but I have not yet seen the same level of rage from anyone else that I feel like this shit deserves. Because what the fuck was that. You mean to tell me this show lovingly built up this relationship with a decent amount of care and decorum, only to ruin it in one scene with a level of cruelty I have not seen in tv in a LONG time? Probably since my House Md days when they had him drive a car through Cuddy’s house after they broke up. Talk about a slap in the face. Like not only was it bad writing, it was just plain mean. There was practically no warning. Felt like starting to fall off the edge of a cliff, seeing someone next to you, reaching your hand out to them and watching them reach back, only to have them snatch it away at the last minute. Jesus Christ.

Also. Those comments by Oliver, who had been trying to ‘do right’ by the storyline (or whatever the fuck he thought he was doing) and bisexuality as a whole, were like kicking someone when they’re already on the floor. Maybe he didn’t mean them badly or didn’t realize how they sounded. I’ve already seen people saying that he can’t be biphobic because of everything else he’s said, or that they themselves as a bisexual didn’t find them biphobic. Idgaf. As a bisexual I found them biphobic. We are not a hive mind. What is offensive to some is not offensive to all. And maybe he isn’t actually biphobic. The man is cryptic and inscrutable at best and I don’t know him, so I can’t say anything definitely. What I DO know is that while he has said nice things about bisexuals, he has not really said a single nice thing about his bisexual storyline. He has also not said a SINGLE WORD OF DEFENSE of his SCENE PARTNER IN A MAJOR STORYLINE who had been receiving DEATH THREATS (and apparently any other love interest either, but those were before I started paying attention to this show so I have no first-hand knowledge and can’t speak to them.) The lack of tact is one thing, but to also lack a spine?? Hoo boy. I can’t defend that. He has no problem talking back when he or his friends are in the line of fire. Not speaking up at all, for anyone, even to be like ‘hey. They’re just doing their job and acting in a storyline that was written for them. It’s just a tv show’ is pretty cowardly tbh. And he can take his bullshit apology-that-wasn’t that he has ALREADY DELETED and shove it up his ass. I no longer care.

I doubt they will, but I hope their ratings tank for this honestly. The general audience probably isn’t as hurt by this and there won’t be any actual repercussions for this nightmare of television writing, but GOD I vindictively hope that something happens to show them that actions have consequences. Either way I’m done.

Thanks for opening your inbox to venting. Hope you have a good weekend while also continuing to be as mad about this as I am lol ☺️

I don't know how to get sad without getting angry. that's just who I am. my sad button and my rage button are connected.

this was exceptionally shitty writing. they foreshadowed nothing. they built up nothing. this came out of nowhere, in the show itself and in the actual episode.

and oliver is on my shit list forever. I will never watch another show by tim minear and I will never watch oliver in anything ever again. he can fade into obscurity when this show hopefully dies after this season, go back to britain and work in a cafe where he can also let his co-workers be abused by customers and not say anything.

I hope he deletes his insta just like his twitter. actually I hope he throws a little fit first, I hope he has a tantrum about all of the righteous anger he's seeing, and acts like even more of a cunt before deleting. really let everyone know he's a self-centered twatwaffle who can't handle ppl not kissing his ass.

after today's work I have a whole week off to be pissed, and I'm not censoring myself. the only shit I'm not putting on my blog are the violent thoughts I'm having towards oliver and tim, because despite this I'm still a decent human being.

[dracoflaco]

Waiting for you // Chris Sturniolo

Chris Sturniolo x fem!reader

contains: fluff, stressed out reader, use of y/n, flashbacks (in italics), 1.2k words

a/n: its been so long since I write so if it looks cranky, don’t blame me. Idk honestly 🤷🏻‍♀️ (no summary cuz I'm lazy lol)

I reach for the box under my bed, it has been covered in dust meaning it has been down there since forever. Bumping my head in the process of taking the box, I let out a wince, “ouch, this damn bed. I’m throwing you away one day I swear,” I muttered, rolling my eyes. I wipe the dust away to see the hidden words under those dust. ‘Love’ was written on the lid of the box, “I don’t remember having this before” furrowing my eyebrows, trying to remember anything. 

The song from my playlist continues to play, starting a sad tune. I turn to where I place my phone, confused as to why there’s some kind of sad song and to be precise Taylor Swift? I shrug it away and stares at the box in front of me, I’ve been cleaning my room since this afternoon and without noticing the time, the sun has started to set. Plopping on my bed, I take the lid off. My smiles starts disappearing just how he did…

~

I laugh at him when he starts cracking some jokes out of nowhere. We’ve been walking for 30 minutes after our date night. Both us close to each other, my purse in his hand. “Also Nick face was literally covered in it, we had to make a TikTok,” Chris laughed, swinging my hand with his softly.

~

“Happy Birthday my pretty girl. I’m sorry I had to! It was the plan, baby,” he winked, handing me the flower lego to me “my love will last just how this flower last” I laughed at his cheesy pickup lines, rolling my eyes playfully “I really thought you forgot about it, Chris. You better don’t do this again” I squint my eyes at him. “We’ll see princess, we’ll see.” He said, shrugging his shoulder making the ‘who knows’ face. I slap his arm playfully, he eventually starts laughing and bringing me closer into his arms, “I love you, y/n. Even the world can’t describe it” 

~

“This is so good, baby. Cook more often please please please” he begged, chewing the food I made for him. Chris stands up from his seat and walks towards me “Thank you, baby” He hugs me from behind and lift me off from the floor to twirl me. I laugh lightly “Chrisss, put me down” I whine playfully and he set me back on the floor, giving my face all the kiss it needed.

~

A solemn tear fell down my cheek, snapping me out of it. I blink my eyes a few times to stop it but the tears keep flowing down my face like a river escaping a dam. I try wiping it away as the door of my room creaks open, someone just came into my room. Luckily my back was facing the door, giving me times to prepare myself and turns around once I think I’m presentable enough. Nick stood there at my door frame, concerns could be seen on his face, “Nick? Hey, what are you doing here? Should’ve tell me before barging into my room,” I chuckled, eyes avoiding his

“You’ve been crying.” Nick stated, heading towards where I’m seated. One look of the things in my hands, he knew it straightaway. “Missing him? Everyday I passed his room, I could hear him sobbing his heart out. He still loves you, you know? Let him in again?” He suggests, rubbing my shoulder softly. Bringing me closer to his side, laying my head on his shoulder. I stare at the necklace which happened to be in the box, being on the top of the other.

“How? How, Nick? He was the one who ended it, I got no time to stop him from doing so!” I cry out, burying my face in his shoulder. My whole body is shaking from the amount of tears and sobs coming out of me. “Yet you still cry about it, y/n. It’s been what? Almost a year and you two still mourn for each other. I never believe you when you said you moved on from him. It was and still is in your eyes.” Nick whispered into my ears, his hand never stops rubbing my shoulder. 

“It hurts Nick, I still want him but God knows how my brain despise him when he said those words to me but my heart says the opposite” I sobbed, pouring my heart out. Nick only nods and comfort me softly, whispering sweetness to me till I slowly calm down from all the loud sob, non stopping flows of tears. My fingers taking the necklace from the box and turn it around. An engrave of ‘I love you - c.s’. I let my thumb stays on the engraving.

Minutes of staring it, I unclasp the hook and place it around my neck. Nick only observe my movement, saying absolutely nothing. I sigh lowly, resting the necklace on my collarbone. Sounds of a phone ringing starts to play, Nick take his phone out of the pocket of his trousers. The caller ID shows that it was Chris. I nod towards the phone, telling Nick to answer the phone call.

His thumb lingers on the decline button but finally pressing the green button, “Chris? Why’d you call?” He ask, talking to the phone. I shift away from Nick to give them both some privacy. I search for my phone only to be met with the battery logo. Grabbing the charger on the bedside table and plugging it in. “I’ll give you two some times but don’t ask again after this. You better not missed anything or even mess this up again, or I’m killing you myself.” The call comes to an end.

I walk back to my bed and peers at his phone, “what happened?” I asked, picking up the box from the bed and move it into my closet. “Nothing, Chris just asked about the juice from yesterday.” Oh. I nodded out of disappointment and settle down beside him. “Whatever happen, just let it flow naturally. Do not push it away. You better hear me out this time, y/n.” He said, looking into my eyes with seriousness. 

My brow furrows softly, confusion starts to spread on my face, “okay? Anyway why did you come here all of a sudden?”

“You weren’t answering the text I gave you and all my calls went straight to the voicemail. You expect me not to panic knowing you” He said, crossing his arms. “Anyway I’m gonna go buy some takeout with Matt, you want the usual?” 

“The usual I guess?” I shrugged, “up to you though, I don’t mind” 

Nick wave at me and left me alone in my room with my clouded thoughts. Sighing, I rose to my feet and drag myself to the bathroom to wash my face. My eyes are a bit red and puffy after the crying session and all. The sound of my door bell rings all over my house, I dry my face quickly. Rushing down the stairs to open the door. Time seeming to slow down, feeling as if I can hear my own heartbeat. There he stood, My Chris or what used to be. The tears in my eyes threatening to fall, “Chris…” I whispered-

-to be continued-